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A Man Apart

Summary:

Taking place sometime during season 5, A Man Apart introduces Dr. Gaven Ore. Ore is a mysterous humanoid alien stuck under the Federations thumb. On Deep Space 9 in order to help create new strategies to combat the Dominion, Gaven is a man torn between the memories of a homeworld and life he can never return to and the challenges of maintaining his integrity as forces beyond his control try to press their will and conflicting agendas upon him.

Notes:

I'm looking for a beta reader interested in giving these chapters a once over. Comment encouraged.

Chapter 1: Enter, An Unhappy Man

Chapter Text

ACT I

Chapter One: Enter, An Unhappy Man

 

Doctor Gaven Ore.

 

The alias was not particularly comforting to Gaven since he felt it was misleading to pose as a Federation doctor when he wasn't one. But given the testing he'd undergone to measure his aptitudes; a medical doctor and researcher was the closest equivalent to his personal and professional capabilities and something that Starfleet was confident he could carry out provided his tasks were monitored by an accredited doctor.

 

Gaven was uniquely capable of identifying and treating people’s ills. Being a biological empath had unique advantages built into his standard skills and it was believed that his unique insight would prove to be especially useful among a diverse alien population. Nevertheless, he had made it clear to Captain Benjamin Sisko that he preferred to keep his hands off unless there was an emergent situation involved. That is what he told himself.

 

emotionally. He had been traveling for nearly three weeks and was already thoroughly sick of the relentless and lonely darkness of space. Besides his short few months as a galactic refugee on Vulcan and wherever he had been held shortly after when he'd been taken hostage for several months by some nameless human, Gaven hadn't been on solid ground in more than eighteen months. It was a far cry from the fifty-some years he'd enjoyed on his reclusive and obscure homeworld of Oum.

 

Gaven sighed deeply. His fingers rubbing gingerly along his face and scalp. He still wasn't used to it. The obvious changes to the topography of his face. The now small, reconstructed human-like ears. The semi-permanent lenses over his eyes to hide his brightly colored and oversized irises. His suppressed skin pigment gave him a pale if more human parlor. Not to mention the clothes which clung too tightly to his broad frame and to sensitive places along his abdomen where his differing anatomy was less concealable.

 

Gaven was supposed to appear like a human but he certainly was not one and he mourned the necessary masking of his alien features which had been done at his insistence in a feeble attempt to uphold his Oum obscurity. Ever since being forced from his homeworld mourning seemed to be the only consistent emotional state he had and once more the perfect memory of his lost mate swam in front of his vision.

 

 Lopel Ner's face had been ghastly alert as if death had come as a surprise when he'd fallen senselessly from the cavern wall they'd been scaling. The thought caused fresh thick tears to well and slowly stream down his face. It seemed as if grief was all Gaven was good for anymore.

 

Reflecting on everything he desperately wondered if choosing to survive his expulsion from his homeworld and resulting exile in space really was better than what the alternative had been. The Oum had not seen one of their kind leave the planet surface in over a thousand years. The Oum were isolationists and had long ago turned their eyes away from the wonder of the stars. And yet, when Gaven had been facing his death rites fore he had been bonded in servitude to his mate and thus his life should have been rendered forfeit when Lopel Ner had abruptly died; Gaven had chosen the one means of death that held an obscure possibility of survival.

 

If he had known then, what he knew now, he might have chosen to die a more conventional and assured death on Oum. His mistake of course had been his honesty once he was plucked by bizarre chance from space as he orbited the outskirts of the planet’s gravitational pull and questioned. But those reflections were not chief in his mind.  For now, he felt only misery, confusion, and fear of the unknown.

 

What he did know was that there were people in the galaxy who were desperately interested in where Gaven had come from and his seeming unprecedented connection to the Changeling species. Had he known ahead of time the scope of the oppressive activity by the modern-day changelings in the quadrant he might have held his tongue, but the Vulcan’s had come to the knowledge on their own through their ability to see transparently through his mind and feelings. What they had done with the information and whether it connected back to his kidnapping and torture, he did not know. But it was his species' ancient relationship with the changeling culture that had fascinated his captor for months before Gaven had been abruptly released as if nothing had happened. At the vivid memory of these experiences, he rubbed absently at his wrist where faint scaring was detectable under his fingers where his binds had hurt and chaffed.

 

Since Gaven had been made aware of the appearance of the Dominion, Starfleet had been putting pressure on him to join the cause in finding ways to repel them. No doubt Starfleet wanted to try and utilize his cultural knowledge and unique expertise to help develop strategies to combat the Vorta and Jem'Hadar if not the Changeling Founders themselves someday.

 

While Gaven sympathized with those opposing the Dominion based on what he had learned about what was happening in the quadrant, he didn't agree with using biological or genetic warfare to achieve those ends. But as the threat to other intelligent cultures increased, he wasn't sure how long he could avoid compromising his principles. The more desperate the Federation of Planets got, the less choice he knew would be afforded him if he continued to live and work in the Federation's shadow. He'd also learned firsthand that Starfleet and others outside of them had ways of leaning on him that could ultimately force him to relent. He was still a refugee after all. A man with no homeworld to advocate for him and no one who could claim him as their friends.

 

For the time being, it seemed that Gaven was merely being asked to be open to the Federation's requests while he continued his work out on the frontier. In exchange, the Federation was prepared to allow him access to Starfleet's resources and protections as a Federation asset which afforded him a meager means of consistent support and a handler designated to see to his needs. What better place to keep an eye on him than a remote, if strategically placed, space station out on the edge of the frontier of Federation controlled space?

 

One thing he was happy about was that by all accounts Deep Space Nine was said to be such a melting pot of humanoid species. During his time with the Vulcans, Gaven had read about and studied the common species represented among the Federation of Planets. It would be an undeniable opportunity to live among such a diverse population and that, at least, gave him some amount of personal satisfaction.

 

It was nearly dinner time on his final day en route when Gaven arrived at the station.

 

Since both Jadzia Dax and Doctor Julian Bashir were away on Risa vacationing with their respective partners, the uncomfortably pregnant Major Kira had agreed to rendezvous with Gaven and get him situated until the others returned and he could enjoy a more expansive introduction to the other officers on the station.

 

Personally, Kira was glad of the assignment. Pregnancy wasn't proving to be her favorite state of being, and although she was gracious about carrying the O'Brien's human baby for them despite being Bajoran, she imagined that she would feel tremendously better once she could put the experience behind her and get back to her normal life.

 

Arriving in the docking bay just as Gaven was gathering up his carry-on things, Kira quickly took the Doctor’s appearance in since there had been an unusually small amount of personal information in his file to inform her about his character. Gaven was tall, dark-haired, and handsome. Kira decided there was a decidedly severe edge to him that made his defined sharp features look more imposing than his temperament was. He was dressed conservatively in a dark monochrome uniform without any identifiers. Kira noted a plain black armband on his left upper arm with a white circle upon it. Though its meaning, if any, was mostly lost on her. If she’d had to guess she supposed it meant he was in mourning. Of whom or what Kira didn’t know.

 

"Hello, Doctor Ore. Welcome to Deep Space Nine. I'm Major Kira Nerys. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Kira said once Gaven had straightened and turned in her direction.

 

"Hello." He said curtly nodding to her.

 

A man of few words, Kira noted.

 

"Well, shall I show you to your quarters first? I'm sure you'd like to settle in." She offered.

 

"I suppose that would probably be wise. Please, lead the way, and thank you." Gaven smiled at the Major in a manner that showed he was trying to be polite.

 

Kira and Gaven didn't speak again until they arrived at his quarters in the habitation ring near the infirmary.

 

"I hope you'll be comfortable here. The replicator is there for your use and if you need anything else or have any questions just let one of our people know. Here’s your datapad that has some basic information about the layout of the station. You’ve also been given full access to the general information banks and access to the infirmary’s non-classified files. That's pretty much it. If you want, I can give you the grand tour of the station before we meet with the Captain and the rest of the senior staff." Kira offered.

 

"That won't be necessary," Gaven remarked, sounding ragged and looking grave and travel-worn. “I’m quite tired.”

 

"Right. Of course. OK then." Kira was trying to be polite, but the truth was she found Gaven's somber demeanor a little off-putting.

 

"Thank you Major for your consideration. Before we go on with all this, I must say you look very uncomfortable right now. I was reading in the dossiers that Captain Sisko sent me about you and your fellow officers that due to certain circumstances the station's doctor performed an emergency fetal transfer and you are now carrying a human child on its parent’s behalf. Perhaps you'd like to sit down and rest for a while." Gaven offered evenly before putting down his things. “May I replicate you anything to refresh you?”

 

Gaven's unexpected concern for her comfort caught her by surprise, but then Kira reminded herself that he was supposed to be a civilian medical doctor and probably had some amount of experience dealing with pregnant women. It wasn't true, but Kira assumed without bothering to check for herself.

 

"You know what? Actually? I would love to sit down. Thanks. This pregnancy has kind of thrown me for a loop." Kira said, letting down her guard just a little. "And since you offered, I would love some…"

 

Before she could finish her sentence, a sneezing fit began to overtake her much to the Bajoran’s embarrassment.

 

"Here. If you'll allow me." Gaven stepped forward. "With your consent, I would like to place my fingers along the side of your throat in order to assess something."

 

When Kira agreed with a wave of her hand since she was still caught up in her involuntary sneezing fit, Gaven lightly pressed two fingers to the side of her throat, closed his eyes, and inhaled sharply. A few seconds later he pulled his hand away and turned heading for the replicator. Once he was before it Gaven muttered the name of something he'd discovered while being harbored by the Vulcan's on their homeworld.

 

To his satisfaction, the item he wanted was in the replicator's database and, once it materialized, he brought the offering to the small table the Major had dropped down nearby. "Chew one of these a few times and then let it sit under your tongue. It'll help reduce the sneezing fit and it should be particularly good for the baby. I promise."

 

Gaven offered her what looked like a small fibrous oblong burgundy colored tomato.

 

Desperate to stop her sneezing, Kira followed his instructions, and a moment later to her amazement and relief her sneezing fit subsided. "By the Prophets. It worked. What is this and why haven't I found it sooner?"

 

"It's called a Capya fruit. It calms the nasal reflex, and it's got plenty of nutrients in it that your baby should like. It's not native to Bajor, but I've found it to be effective for similar involuntary afflictions. Plus, I happen to like the way they taste." Gaven took a second one out of the bowl he'd offered her and popped it into his mouth.

 

"I think I love you a little bit." Kira quipped, unable to contain her sense of gratitude.

 

"A small occupational hazard, I'm sure." This time Gaven shrugged and did offer the Major a genuine dry smile.

 

"If you don't mind me saying so, you seem pretty far along for a pregnancy. You must be near the end of it by now. I would think you’d be at home during this time resting. I'm surprised that you're allowed to be on duty in your present state. " Gaven observed.

 

"Yeah. In other words, you're saying I'm as big as a house." Kira joked as she leaned back in the chair a little to give herself more room. “Anyway, I’ve got a lot more time to go. I'm carrying this baby for a human friend of mine like you said and, as you probably know, human pregnancies take a lot longer to develop than Bajoran ones do."

 

"I see. That would explain it then. Can I get you anything else?" He offered.

 

"No, thanks. Trust me. You've done more than enough. Remind me to return the favor sometime. I think I'm ready to go now." Kira said while trying to prepare herself for the effort that it took to get up out of her chair.

 

Gaven nodded and helped her up so that they could get on with their rendezvous with the Captain whom he was to privately conference with before he was formally introduced to the rest of the senior officers.

 

~@~

 

Later that evening, Kira was enjoying a welcome home dinner with Jadzia Dax who had finally come back from Risa.

 

"Did you and Worf have a good time on Risa?" Kira asked knowingly.

 

"The trip certainly had its moments. Frankly, I think it was exactly what we needed to get back in touch with each other. I know for a fact Worf had a good time." Dax replied. "How's the baby?"

 

"Fine. Everything is right on schedule. More importantly, I finally found a natural remedy for those terrible sneezing fits. I think I might finally be able to get some work done now." Kira proclaimed.

 

"I heard the mysterious Doctor Ore arrived while I was away. What's he like?" If there was one thing Dax enjoyed, it was idle gossip.

 

"He's a little reserved, but he seems nice enough. What I can't figure is why there's so little in the computer system about him. From what I understand he's supposed to be a brilliant research scientist and medical doctor." Kira said.

 

"I know. I've read some of Doctor Ore's recent contributions. He's been systematically helping to update the Vulcan Science Academy’s alien anatomy files for the last year alongside some of the Vulcan researchers spearheading the project. Some sort of specialty assignment. His research is groundbreaking. In a few years, we may be able to develop new treatments for all kinds of diseases and conditions we haven't understood before. Not to mention clear up some mysteries about the biological workings of certain alien species. I've heard from the Captain that his radiation work may also give us a serious advantage when dealing with the Dominion." Dax speculated. "Benjamin promised he would brief everyone in the morning about what Doctor Ore plans to do while he's here."

 

"Well, he's got my support If he's half as well informed as all of that. If it's true about the scope of his knowledge, then we may have just hit pay dirt." Kira muttered.

 

"So, tell me. Is Doctor Ore cute?" Dax asked eagerly.

 

Kira's mouth dropped open and then promptly closed as she took up her teacup. "I hadn't noticed."

 

"You liar!" Dax said grinning wide. "Come on; don't hold out on me."

 

"He isn't unattractive, but I promise you he isn't my type, and anyway you'll see him for yourself tomorrow. Miss Looky-loo." Kira remarked.

 

"What? I can look. I may be with Worf, but I'm not blind." Dax grinned even wider.

 

~@~

 

Early the next morning, everyone gathered for the briefing.

 

"Good morning everyone. I want to introduce Doctor Gaven Ore. Doctor Ore is going to be working with us for the foreseeable future. Doctor? I know you've already met Major Kira. I want to introduce you to the rest of my team and some of the people you'll undoubtedly be working with while you're here on the station. Starting at my left is Jadzia Dax my Science Officer and my Strategic Operation officer Commander Worf. To your right is our Chief Medical Officer Doctor Julian Bashir, Miles O'Brien Chief of Operations, and, last but not least, our Security Chief Odo." Sisko began.

 

"Hello," Gaven said this in the same manner of voice that he had greeted Kira in when he had first arrived.

 

As his eyes surveyed the room Gaven's gaze lingered a fraction longer on the non-human officers stopping just short of Odo whom he looked in the direction of but not directly at as he had the others.

 

"Well, I suppose we should get started. It would seem Starfleet has taken some interest specifically in Doctor Ore's genetics and radiation research and Starfleet Command has invited him to the station in the hopes that he can assist us in some of our difficulties with the Dominion. To date, Starfleet has had some trouble devising efficient ways of identifying Changeling operatives, and Doctor Ore has been asked to develop a better medical detection method, if possible, for doing so. Doctor Ore. Would you like to go on?"

 

"Huh, yes. Thank you. I must admit that although such work is not my preference, I have agreed to assist Starfleet with their objectives so far as my conscience and personal convictions will allow. Besides my more specific tasks, while I'm here, I am at your disposal as an additional doctor and research assistant. Though, I understand that Doctor Bashir is more than capable of handling most of your medical needs." Gaven explained.

 

"If you don't mind me asking. What are your areas of expertise, doctor?" O'Brien asked.

 

"Exobiology and the study of alien anatomy and physiology, mostly," Gaven replied.

 

"Doctor Ore has also done some incredible work with radiation research," Dax added.

 

"Do you have any existing leads on your detection solution?" Doctor Bashir inquired.

 

"Yes. I've identified a type of radiation that most organisms are sensitive to when exposed. My research has concluded that, specifically in Changelings, limited exposure to this radiation type renders them incapable of taking additional form outside of their natural state." Gaven explained.

 

"Really?" Odo interjected incredulously. "And how did you manage to come to that conclusion?"

 

This time Gaven did raise his gaze to look directly at Odo. "It's common knowledge on the planet Oum of the Omni system. Their scientific centers have documentation dating back centuries on the subject."

 

"Oum? I've never heard of it," Bashir remarked, wrinkling his nose.

 

"That's not surprising. Oum isn't a Federation planet. As far as I know, they're space-capable isolationists and typically won't communicate with other species." Dax explained.

 

"Yes. That's correct. The planet has enjoyed a unique level of isolation due to the high levels of poly radiation exposure the planet enjoys. Most species can't tolerate being near the system's sun or the planet’s surface even with protection. Of course, there are a few exceptions. The Oum themselves have evolved in such a way where they have a natural resistance to the radiation exposure allowing them to exist and thrive all over the planet." Gaven added.

 

"I must be missing something. If the planet is so toxic and the Oum don't like to encounter other species, how did you get your hands on this wealth of information?" O'Brien asked.

 

"As I said, the effects of the radiation on foreign species and on the changelings, in particular, are common knowledge. I know because Oum is my mother planet and these subjects are part of what every Oum is trained to know. Allow me to be blunt, I am not what I appear to be." Gaven replied somewhat tensely.

 

" Doctor Ore is a refugee of Oum. The nature of his origins and the circumstances around how he came to be here should be considered restricted information privy only to our officers and is at the discretion of Dr. Ore to reveal," Sisko interjected. "As far as anyone else on or off this station is concerned, Doctor Ore is human."

 

“So, he’s a government operative of some sort working under Starfleet’s thumb. I’m sorry but are you even a certified Doctor or is that just part of the cover?” Julian felt he had a right to know.

 

“Doctor Ore has proven that he has credible knowledge and experience in the fields he has mentioned, and Starfleet has cleared him to work in the capacities being outlined here. While he is a civilian and not a member of Starfleet, he is considered a medical professional and scientist by both Earth and Vulcan measurements.

 

“What of your people’s connection to the Changeling culture in specific?” Odo asked.

 

"Historically, my people have had limited encounters with several species. But the changelings have been the earliest and most impactful. While I'm sure the Dominion would be curious about Oum, my planet appears to have become a no-contact zone long ago and has been forgotten by the Dominion and just about everyone else." Gaven remarked.

 

"How…Fortunate for you," Worf commented unhappily.

 

"In any case, if I can find a way to isolate the radiation exposure we could, in theory, render areas of the station or any other contained space virtually impossible for changelings to infiltrate. Naturally, the problem is a matter of ensuring that the radiation doesn't sicken or kill anyone else exposed to it in the process." Gaven looked increasingly unhappy as he talked. "Anyway, that's the gist of what I'm here for."

 

"Thank you, Doctor. If everyone is through with their questions, then I'll adjourn this meeting. You're all dismissed."

 

Having no further comment and reading the mood in the room Worf and O'Brien departed quickly. Bashir was kind enough to stoically shake Gaven's hand and tell him he looked forward to working with him before leaving as well. Odo remained in the room for several minutes as if he were considering something before a call interrupted him and called him away.

 

Captain Sisko, Kira, and Dax remained behind.

 

"I'm sorry. But if I may speak plainly Captain, I hate this. No offense to everyone." Gaven muttered unhappily.

 

"I'm sorry if that was more uncomfortable for you than you wanted it to be," Sisko said compassionately.

 

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Dax inquired. "In all the years I've heard mention of Oum, I've never heard of the culture allowing its people off the planet. How is it that you've come to be here?"

 

Gaven didn't answer but looked at Sisko as if to permit him to respond on his behalf.

 

"As I’ve said, Doctor Ore is a refugee of sorts. For various reasons he's been expelled from the planet and isn't permitted to return. Due to the sensitive nature of his off-world status I've agreed to protect his privacy regarding his origins and observe his rights until such a time as he either leaves Federation space or settles on a Federation world." Sisko explained.

 

"That must be difficult for you. I’m sorry." Kira remarked.

 

"It is difficult. I love my people and my homeworld. But I've reconciled with the reality that I can no longer be a part of it. For as much as I've lost, I like to think I've gained infinitely more. Being here among all of you means a great deal to me and my work. I'm honored to be a guest on this station even if some of my reasons for being here are not particularly to my liking. As I promised Starfleet, if I can do something to help all of you, I'll do it. But I do have limits to what I'm willing to allow the Federation to do with my discoveries. I know someday that may not make me extremely popular, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get started. Thank you for your time. It was a pleasure to see you again, Major."

 

Shortly after, Gaven found himself left to his own devices for the rest of the day. Although he wouldn’t be set up with Doctor Bashir until the next morning, Gaven still felt his business for the day had not entirely concluded. His thoughts drifted back upon his meeting earlier and how under normal circumstances he would have been beyond ecstatic to meet a Klingon, a Trill, and a Changeling all in the same room. It almost sounded like the opening of some amazing dream. Instead, he only felt miserable, guarded, and intolerably alone.

 

Gaven swallowed all of this forcing his feelings into a series of boxes in his mind to be reopened later when he had the time to meditate back in his room and purge what would not emotionally serve him.

 

It was time to focus on his unfinished business.

 

Abandoning the small table that he’d taken at Quirk’s to have something to drink, Gaven departed intending to seek out the one person that Gaven felt he owed a conversation.

 

~@~

 

Odo was in his office looking over reports and trying to ignore the fact that his lower back was killing him. The idea of relaxation had always seemed silly to the shapeshifter when he could still change his form, given that his natural gelatinous-like state was about as relaxed as any organic life form could get. Until now Odo had preferred the expression of rigidity whenever he took a humanoid form. Now that the Founders had revoked his shapeshifting ability in punishment, he was starting to have to rethink his standards and behaviors if he wanted to go on being…Comfortable in his new skin.

 

Gaven was similar in mentality when it came to his self-expression. But he, perhaps, came off more reclusive and secretive than rigid.

 

“Yes? Come in.” Odo muttered when he heard the signal on his closed office door sound.

 

“Mr. Odo. I do apologize for disturbing you, sir.” Gaven came into the room with all the strange assertiveness of someone used to adapting to strange and unusual environments.

 

Slightly surprised by the identity of his visitor Odo promptly put down the report he was reading to address Gaven. “Was…There something I could do for you, Doctor?”

 

“I was hoping I could talk with you for a few moments,” Gaven said evenly.

 

“Of course. Please, SIT.” Odo’s tone was a little less casual and a little sterner than he wanted. “What was it you wanted to talk about.”

 

“I want you to know that…that…” Just then Gaven found himself struggling to spit out his own words. “I feel exceedingly strong about your position here on Deep Space Nine. I have a great deal of respect for you and your origins, Sir. And I must admit I didn’t want to say some of the things that had to be said earlier in the briefing about repelling your people. It is important to me that you know that my people and your people have always held a unique fascination for each other. When your species made first contact with ours many centuries ago, we welcomed them, and when we realized our planet could hurt the changelings, we attempted to help get them off our world. When I think about what both of our people have become, I can’t help but feel…A great sense of loss and personal disappointment. I feel as if you and I are similar in the sense that in our hearts we both wish everything could be different. From what I’ve gathered, your views and experiences have served to put a rift between you and your people in the same way my views and experiences have put a rift between my people and me.”

 

Although Gaven was doing an excellent job at keeping his tone even and open, Odo could perceive a deep churning turmoil in his eyes and briefly entertained the notion that in truth the strange doctor was probably very nearly on the verge of tears.

 

“I need you to know, Mr. Odo, that someday the Federation may push me to use my work against the Dominion. If that day comes, it is important to me that you understand that hurting the changelings in any lasting way would never be something I would choose to do.” Gaven insisted.

 

“I see. May, um, I ask you something?” Odo asked lightly.

 

Gaven nodded.

 

“I’ve been looking over your classified information files. It's vague as I think was your intention. Considering what you’ve been willing to confide about your actual identity as well as the circumstances behind your arrival on the station and your desire to speak to me in person like this, it leads me to the conclusion that you feel a certain connection to me. Correct me if my deduction is wrong, but it seems to me that your people have forced you off your planet as a form of punishment for some unknown reason. Is that about right?”

 

This time Gaven’s eyes noticeably welled but no tears escaped, and he didn’t reply.

 

Odo scoffed slightly and folded his hands together upon his desk. “It's never an easy thing when one's ways force a wedge between themselves and their people. That, we do seem to have in common. I suppose it is true that, although you love them, you can’t come to terms with some aspects of your people’s beliefs which likely conflict with your own. I can imagine how painful that must be for you even if I don’t know the specific details of your situation. I can tell you’re still grieving and that you’d probably rather that others not know how much you’re suffering. Though it is of little consolation I’m sure, know that in imagining a different way of being for yourself you are remaining true to what you know you can never be, as well as honoring what you still are.”

 

“Yes.” Gaven agreed, pressing his damp eyes to his sleeve and finally gaining back his full composure. “Thank you.”

 

“Mm. Give yourself time, Doctor. And try to focus on the positives of your situation. In one way or another, many of us on Deep Space Nine are…Without country, so to speak. You’ll find many examples of people here who break the expected norms of the cultures they were born to.” Odo remarked thoughtfully.

 

“I do look forward to that aspect of being here, Mr. Odo.” Gaven agreed.

 

“As for your troubles with the Federation and your work, let us address those concerns as they become apparent,” Odo muttered.

 

“Yes. Thank you for being willing to speak to me. If there’s anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Gaven offered.

 

” Actually. Now that you mention it, I could do with some medical advice. Due to some unfortunate business with the Founders, I had my shapeshifting ability tampered with, you see. Dr. Bashir is still trying to find a way to reverse the effects, but in the meantime, I’ve become more-or-less flesh and blood in the human style. The experience has been an interesting ordeal so far, but I must admit I’m still having problems adjusting to my physiological limitations. I tend to frequently pull muscles and develop aches due to…how I tend to carry myself. I’ve been trying to work on it, but relaxation was never my strong point.” Odo explained.

 

“Are you in pain now?” Gaven inquired.

 

“As a matter of fact? My lower back is killing me. Doctor Bashir said it has to do with having a spinal column and carrying myself too rigidly or something. I’m trying to find other solutions, and I was wondering if you had any recommendations given your specialty in anatomy.” Odo finished.

 

“I see. Well, assuming the Founders saw fit to keep your solid form in line with humans there are a few things you can do to help. For one, you might consider getting a better chair with lumbar support. You could also try inversion. That’s when you hang upside down. It helps to decompress the spine. Warm baths before bed, proper rest, and an occasional massage wouldn’t hurt either.” Gaven suggested.

 

“Humph. I see. I’ll think about trying some of those sometime.” Odo said.

 

.

“Do let me know if they help,” Gaven replied.

 

~@~

 

The next morning Gaven was due to report to the infirmary and meet the rest of the medical staff.

 

Dr. Bashir was, of course, in charge of the introductions which amounted to a lot of nodding and stilted but polite conversation on Gaven’s part. Gaven was surprised that someone as young as Julian was in charge of the space station’s medical team and he was also slightly taken back at first by the man’s natural emotionally driven exuberance. It seemed to clash in an almost comical way with Gaven’s minimalism and his firm emotional control that came off much more intense and quieter by comparison. However, in observing how the rest of the staff interacted with the young doctor and the affection his patients felt for the man, Gaven couldn’t help but smile to himself internally a little. Doctor Bashir certainly seemed like the right man for his position after all.

 

“So.’ Bashir said once all the initial introductions had concluded. “What do you think of our fair Station, Dr. Ore?”

 

“It’s…Very nice, Doctor. You have an impressive set up here. I must admit I wasn’t sure what to expect.” Gaven said. “I’ve been conducting my work mostly out of a Vulcan freighter and then an isolated Vulcan science station on their homeworld. Gaven neglected to include his sporadic episodes in captivity. “It wasn’t exactly an ideal place to do my research compared to what I’ve been used to, but the Vulcans were accommodating enough. This place is certainly an improvement.”

 

“Oh. yes, I’m sure it would be.” Although externally Julian radiated all goodness and light, internally he was secretly taking stock of the other doctor in a manner of detail that no one knew he was capable of analyzing.

 

Julian noted, for example, the subtle signs of stress that came upon the other doctor’s features every time he was forced by social decorum to react to someone and return their communication. He also noted how the man tended to plant his feet in such a way that felt fortifying and unmovable as if he were always prepared to resist being pushed over. Frequently, when others were speaking to him, Gaven would glance distractedly to the left. His subtle behavior implied that he was linking something in the present to his memory of the past. Of course, that was assuming he was like humans. The fact that Gaven wasn’t human and that they had orders to not raise any flags about that fact also tugged at Julian’s overactive imagination. A part of him wondered who the doctor was beyond his falsified identity and why it was that the Federation was trying so demurely to tuck the man into their back pocket as if he’d been there all along.

 

Gaven could feel Julian’s masked scrutiny of him which the doctor was particularly good at hiding under the wicker basket of all his jovial friendliness. So, Gaven thought. The young doctor was not exactly what he wanted others to assume him to be. Gaven wondered if Julian came by his advanced abilities naturally or if he was genetically enhanced somehow. Given the Federation’s policies on genetic resequencing and enhancement, the possibility that Julian was harboring secrets about the nature of his being would have explained why he was working so hard to cover what he was thinking and doing when people interacted with him. Gaven could tell that Julian was downplaying himself. It was subtle, but Gaven had spent his entire life on a planet where subtlety was a primary language. Well, Gaven had no intention of bothering the doctor. He was no stranger to wanting to keep aspects of himself a secret.

 

“Well, should we step into my office now? I know you wanted to brief me about some things before I let you loose, as they say.” Julian offered.

 

Gaven nodded, and the men proceeded to head to the CMO’s office where they could speak in private.

 

“Now, what can I do for you,” Julian said, finally settling happily into his office chair while he waited for Gaven to sit down.

 

“I feel I need to alert you to my medical needs. As you know from my private file, my homeworld is subjected to a unique kind of radiation exposure.” Gaven began as he settled on the arm of one of the office chairs so that he could semi-stand without making the doctor uncomfortable.

 

“Yes. I believe your people call it Poly radiation. Something to do with the unique elemental makeup of your planet’s sun.” Julian recited.

 

“As I've stated, my people have developed a unique tolerance for the radiation, and most of the time we’re exposed to it all of our lives. The truth is our bodies are designed to tolerate the exposure, and without it, our species systems can break down to the point of being debilitating over a long period. Now normally radiation treatments are not uncommon on most planets and places like this station, but in this case, I’m concerned that standard Poly radiation treatments of this nature may not be containable. Considering how toxic Poly radiation is to most life forms, you can understand my deep concern.” Gaven’s tone was somber.

 

“Yes…I was wondering about that. How long have you gone without exposure?” Julian was trying to calculate the possible ramifications Gaven was implying as well as how a lack of exposure could negatively be affecting the man.

 

“Around eighteen months. Since I left the Omni system.” Gaven said.

 

“Are you experiencing health concerns now?” Julian asked.

 

“Not yet. But I can tell you, doctor. It’ll only be a matter of time. Eventually, my nervous system will start to deteriorate and then other systems will start to shut down. Without exposure, I estimate the result would be terminal within three years.” Gaven explained evenly.

 

“I see. That is quite a problem. May I?” Julian got up and came around his desk intent on doing some preliminary scans with his medical recorder.

 

Several minutes later he finally stepped back. “I suspect, doctor, that there’s something we can think up. You're clearly able to metabolize the radiation into something benign given that if you couldn’t, just being in the same room with you would likely start negatively impacting those around you. So, I suspect if we can get the radiation in your body somehow, you would then be able to absorb it naturally. The question is how do we deliver it without causing cross exposure.” Julian couldn’t resist a good old fashioned medical conundrum.

 

“Well, we have some time yet to figure it out. Until then it stays between us.” Gaven sighed. “On a professional note, Vulcan would like me to keep updating their anatomy files and Starfleet medical is interested in using the data to revise some of theirs as well should the information prove beneficial. With your permission, I’d like to invite members of the station to undergo some basic physicals. I’d also like to be as useful to you as possible while I’m here so if you want any help on anything, I’m at your service. With your approval, I would like to eventually be allowed to take on some rounds. I feel compelled to do my part here, and I’m a quick study.” Gaven offered.

 

It was the warmest thing the strange man had said so far.

 

“I think something could be set up. Your tests are certainly on par with most experienced medical doctors as far as I can tell. What was it you did on your homeworld if you don’t mind me asking?” Julian inquired.

 

Gaven didn’t respond right away.

 

“Right, sorry. Need to know. I almost forgot.” Julian backtracked as he dismissed his question. “Look, I could use some help in the early morning and some evenings. I really do look forward to working together.”

 

“Yes. I’ll be here, doctor. I’m sure you’ll have a great many things to teach me.” Gaven agreed.

Chapter 2: Conversational Revelations

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: Conversational Revelations

 

“He’s strange,” Julian said definitively a few days later at the dinner Dax had prepared to keep herself company while Worf was running an errand off station.

 

“Of course you would say he’s strange. You’re the one that keeps acting like he’s human.” Jadzia pointed out as she placed a bowl of Klingon appetizers in the center of the table.

 

“Jadzia does have a point there Julian. You do tend to go out of your way to pretend you don’t know he’s actually an alien.” Kira remarked as she wrinkled her nose slightly at the appetizers and opted for the safer looking vegetable tray on the table.

 

“That’s ridiculous. I treat Doctor Ore like I do everyone I’ve just met. And anyway, doesn’t it bother either of you? I mean, aren’t you just the least bit curious about who he really is?” Julian asked in that leading way he did when he wanted someone to validate him.

 

Both Jadzia and Kira exchanged looks and then laughed.

 

“What?” Julian felt like he was missing something.

 

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Kira said dismissively.

 

“Dax? Come on.” Julian pressed.

 

“Kira’s right, Julian. It's nothing. It's just that it's not really true. You don’t treat Dr. Ore like everyone. In fact, you treat him the same way you do every time you…you…” Jadzia was struggling to find the easiest way to put it.

 

“Meet someone who isn’t human.” Kira finished for her bluntly before sticking her favorite pastry into her mouth that she’d brought to curb her latest craving.

 

“What? What are you talking about?” Julian protested, genuinely confused and intrigued at the same time.

 

“Please, Julian. Let me see if I can illustrate for you. Who was the first Trill you ever met personally and became close to?” Jadzia asked.

 

“Besides the few I knew at the academy? You. But I don’t see what…” Julian began to protest.

 

“Julian…” Jadzia’s eyes widened at him, “Stop pretending to be so stupid. You know exactly what I’m referring to.”

 

“Oh. Right. Well, that doesn’t count.” Julian protested, realizing she was referring to the fact that he’d been infatuated with her when they’d first met. “You are not an average Trill.”

 

“Sure it doesn’t.” Jadzia rolled her eyes. “What about Garak? Or even Odo? Face it, Julian, aliens fascinate you. The fact that Dr. Ore is not a human and that his life circumstances are shrouded in mystery is irresistible to you and so, instead of just letting it go, you overcompensate every time you’re around him like you’re trying to hide something.”

 

“I do NOT overcompensate when I’m talking to Dr. Ore…” Julian said indignantly.

 

“Yes, you do.” Kira and Jadzia said in unison flatly.

 

“Look, all we’re saying is that if you're so interested in him why don’t you try to get to know him a bit? I know he seems stuffy, but he’s actually quite…I dunno,” Kira offered as she tried to find the right words.

 

“Nice.” Jadzia finished for her. “And probably lonely.”

 

“Fine, fine. The doctor sure seems to have won the both of you over, though I can’t see how since the man seldom says more than two words at a time to anyone.” Julian muttered.

 

“Maybe around you. I don’t have much reason to talk to him but when I do, he’s friendly enough about it. Quiet, sure. But courteous and curious. Dr. Ore strikes me as a very thoughtful man. He pays attention to people and what they need. Like when he helped me with my sneezing. He saw a problem, and he just fixed it.” Kira remarked.

 

“Last week he sent Worf and I a gift basket of lotions and salve. He’d heard it was our anniversary. The card was quite sweet. I think he’s just really good at being impersonally personal. He’s guarded. Private. But kind. He looked almost alarmed when Worf and I came by to thank him for it. Anyway, we're not trying to gang up on you Julian we just aren’t interested in saying anything negative about the man.” Jadzia explained.

 

“It wasn’t my intention to be negative, I was trying to be conversational. Never mind. Let's change the subject and go about having a nice time. Cheers.” Julian muttered, toasting the others as they got on with their meal.

 

~@~

 

The first week or so of Gaven’s arrival proved to be a solitary one. Dr. Bashir had been kind enough to find Gaven a small office space within the station's infirmary to do his work. This work consisted mostly of doing basic physicals on the available and willing non-human station inhabitants and writing up his findings in triplicate. He had permission to send his proposals for updates to Starfleet Medical and to Vulcan, but Gaven wasn’t allowed to input new information directly into the station’s database. This seemed to occupy all Gaven’s time unless Julian wanted his help with something. Gaven’s interaction with his patients was thorough and usually very brief. Julian noticed how he commonly asked to touch a patient and marveled when he saw that Gaven could detect the presence of injury or disease using a form of biological empathy that was unique to his species.

 

Julian desperately wanted to discuss the phenomenon with Gaven but found it difficult to secure an opportunity since he couldn’t freely ask Gaven about it while at work without the risk of violating his cover. He realized that if he did want to learn about Gaven he would have to convince him to be more social and so he went on to double his efforts at trying to engage the man every time he saw him. His overtures of friendliness were not very well received.

 

“Well, good morning Dr. Ore. And how are we getting along today?” Julian said as he had on most mornings when Gaven showed up for his rounds.

 

Gaven noticed the doctor always seemed to speak slightly more loudly than was needed as if he was trying to project his voice on a stage and his movements were somewhat exaggerated. More substantial steps, more arm waving, broader smiles, and an annoying level of exuberant expression.

 

This morning was no different. “I’m…Fine. Doctor. Thank you.”

 

Gaven stalked the rest of the way into the infirmary and went directly to his small office almost as if he were trying to escape.

 

“Well, that’s…Good. Listen, I have an idea. What do you say to us having lunch today together? I thought we might pick each other’s brains. Maybe talk about some cases that have proved troublesome in the past.” Julian offered while he leaned casually in the doorway of Gaven’s office.

 

“Thank you, but no,” Gaven replied bluntly.

 

Julian’s eyes looked like they might pop out of his head at having his offer rejected so utterly. He felt confused by the man’s tone and blunt delivery.

 

Noticing his reaction, Gaven mentally kicked himself at the prospect that he might have just hurt the other man’s feelings.

 

“I’m sorry, Doctor. I have a great deal of work to do today. I wasn’t planning to take lunch.” Gaven lied.

 

Julian waited for him to finish with a follow-up offer but waited in vain. “Oh…Well, another time then I’m sure. Right. Well, if you need anything I’ll just be over here. Doctoring.”

 

Gaven watched Julian linger for a few seconds longer before he backed himself out of the office and disappeared.

 

When Julian was out of earshot Gaven finally sighed and turned forward at his desk covering his face with his hands as he tried to rub away his deep regrets. “Damn it all.”

 

“Bad morning, Doctor?” The blunt gravely tone of Odo’s voice suddenly cut into Gaven’s reality like a comforting rush of warm water.

 

“Mr. Odo, Hello. Yes. You could say that. Come in.” Gaven said, clear relief in his tone that hinted at how much he liked the shapeshifter and was glad just then to see him. “What do I owe to your visit. Anything wrong?”

 

Gaven straighten his posture an pushed away his troubled thoughts in order to adopt a more placid expression.

 

“I told you before that I would take your medical advice into consideration and report the result,” Odo remarked.

 

“And? How did my recommendations go over?” Gaven asked, genuinely interested.

 

“The new chair is helping, and I must admit the inversion therapy you recommended has been quite effective and even…Enjoyable.” Odo reported.

 

“Good, and the baths?” Gaven inquired.

 

“I’m…Still working up to them. I’m not quite sure how much I like the prospect of being wet. Warm or not.” Odo admitted.

 

“More ironic words have never been spoken given your species natural state and the collective way you engage in the Great Link. Baby steps, Mr.Odo.” He encouraged.

 

“Ye-es. Speaking of baby steps, if you don’t mind me saying so, you might just consider allowing our good doctor the satisfaction of getting to know you a bit.” Odo advised gently.

 

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Gaven replied.

 

The look on his face said he didn’t like the taste of his own words.

 

“Why? You seem more than capable of making friends here at the station if you wanted to. I think you’d find Doctor Bashir very likable. Most people do.” Odo encouraged him gently.

 

At this Gaven got up and closed his office door before he sat back down and rubbed at his face some more.

 

“I’m not good at this, you know. This business of starting my life all over from scratch and having to go around pretending as if my old life never happened. Back when I was found by the Vulcans and found myself stuck on one of their freighters while they brought me to their homeworld, it felt much easier than this is. On the freighter I was kept in isolation and was mostly just under the Vulcan’s observation. It was impersonal and temporary.” A well of emotion seized up in the man causing him to pause.

“Being here on the station, being asked to get involved in the problems of this quadrant feels overwhelming. I don’t want people to get too attached to me here and I don’t trust the Federations motives in anything involving the work I’m doing. But, the reality is I have nothing else to leverage but my work and insights. Doctor Bashir seems like a good man, but he takes his relationships with people to heart. I don’t want him getting tangled up in my secrets, Mr. Odo. He is the kind of person who enjoys uncovering things that at times would be better left concealed.”

 

“Fascinating that you're so worried about Dr. Bashir’s wellbeing in particular,” Odo remarked. “Have you considered that we’re all curious about who you are?”

 

“Perhaps. But Doctor Bashir is the one that sees me the most of anyone on this station. He’s the one person I can’t consistently avoid day to day given our work arrangement.” Gaven shrugged.

 

“I see. I must say, I don’t really like this shroud of mystery the Federation is keeping over you. Frankly, I fail to see the reasoning behind it.” Odo said, settling himself on the edge of Gaven’s desk.

 

“I should think you of all people would know what it's like to be the first of your kind to be commonly identified. Before all this business with the Dominion, you were just a unique alien oddity and just another individual trying to make a place for themselves in the universe. Now you’re much more than that to both your kind and others. If the Federation had it within their power to turn me or my work into a weapon to use against the Dominion, do you honestly think they’d just let me go about my business? Even if they did, do you think once others learned about my existence all of them would also leave me to my own devices in the galaxy?” Gaven inquired.

 

“I see your point. It seems to me you’ve also disclosed a great deal to certain Federation parties. Why be secretive now about the fundamental details of your life?” Odo asked.

 

“I have told Starfleet and the Vulcans enough to give them cause to help me survive. Until I was found, I had no real concept of there being so much life out in the universe. My people are space capable and advanced enough to be an acceptable first contact culture, but we have not bothered to educate ourselves about who else and what else is happening beyond our planet. I am essentially a fish out of water having to learn how to breathe on land. It’s been quite a learning curve and I am trying to get up to speed as quickly as I can.” Gaven sighed, miserably.

 

He then continued darkly. “I have no doubt, Mr. Odo, that if I were to show any real resistance to the Federation’s overtures; I’d be sitting in some isolation unit somewhere being poked and prodded at against my will by someone or other and I’ve had just about enough of that experience already.”

 

“You’ve been held against you’re will before?” Odo raised one brow.

 

“Yes. And not humanely.” Gaven replied.

 

“Why?” He asked.

 

“Do people who do such things need a reason? I assume it’s because I have the misfortune to be able to metabolize a radioactive element that is toxic to almost everyone else and that has a specifically interesting effect on changelings.” It was the first time Gaven had vented about the suspected reality of his situation to anyone on the station besides Benjamin.

 

“Mm. I see.” Odo did see very clearly. More clearly than some might have that the alien man sitting in front of him was a literal prisoner of circumstance.

 

Given Odo’s history of being prodded at and experimented on, he understood. He also realized quite acutely how much distress the other man was probably experiencing.

 

“Since you were so kind as to give me such succinct advice before, Doctor. Please allow me to suggest something of my own?” Odo planned to say something with or without Gaven’s approval.

 

Gaven didn’t protest.

 

“You're a man of many secrets, and I think some of them are causing you a great deal of pain. It may help you to make friends. Maybe even find someone you can confide in that is…Better with feelings. You appear to be a forthright man. I would suspect you’re also one of deep conviction and I’m sure for better or worse your attitudes are part of the reason you’ve ended up here. While I respect your need for caution and anonymity, I feel too much isolation and personal reflection could do you more harm than good.” Odo said decisively.

 

Gaven smiled slowly after a few seconds. “I do like you Mr. Odo. I’m glad we have such a good understanding of each other. I’ll take your recommendations under advisement.”

 

~@~

 

“I’m sorry. I…I can’t understand you. I NEED to run some tests if you WANT me to help her.” Dr. Bashir was at his wit's end as he tried desperately to communicate with the tall red skinned female alien that had come in on the last transport with a sick child in tow later that morning.

 

Presently the child in question was being held by an almost panicked looking Julian as the mother muttered something guttural and made hand gestures that the universal translator didn’t register as a language.

 

Gaven didn’t say anything at first when he’d come upon the unusual scene and stood in the frame of his office door watching the chaotic-looking situation without comment.

 

Finally, Julian caught sight of him and uttered the most pathetic sounding “help” imaginable.

 

Gaven grunted and walked the rest of the way into the central part of the infirmary rolling up his sleeves to his forearms as he came around the exam table where Julian had been trying to put the clinging child down. “Well? What’s happening?”

 

“She just came in here off the morning transport and started babbling incessantly at me. Next thing I know she thrusts this child into my arms and starts making a god-awful fuss. As far as I can tell the child has a very high body temperature. Normally I would assume it was a fever, but I have no idea if the presenting temperature is an abnormality in this species and to what extent. Every time I try to put her down to examine her the child starts crying bloody murder and the mother tries to hoist her back into my arms. Would YOU try to reason with her, please? I’m about ready to sedate both of them and be done with it.” Julian desperately threatened.

 

“Right. Give me a moment.” At that Gaven swiftly went back around the table to address the woman who was nearly a foot taller than him.

 

Julian looked on as Gaven gently took her upper arm, breathed in sharply once, and then guided her aside and began talking to her with one or two carefully placed words. Julian noticed he didn’t let go of the woman’s upper arm and that she allowed it to hang dead while she made a few slower hand gestures with her other hand and one or two guttural grunts. Several seconds later he nodded in apparent understanding and let go of the woman then turned back towards Julian.

 

“Hand her over, please.” Gaven requested.

 

“Huh, gladly.” Julian gently pried the child off him and directly into Gaven’s arms before the girl had time to realize what was happening and could start fussing again.

 

Gaven balanced the girl child on one hip as he pressed his thumb and pointer fingers into either side of her forehead and gently dragged them down toward her throat. “Mm. Your right. We have to get her body temperature down right now. She’s also exceedingly dehydrated, but that should be easy to fix once I get her stabilized.”

 

“Fine and just how do you propose we do that? The mother won’t let me near her with anything let alone put the child down.” Julian muttered in frustration.

 

“I can get it down.” Gaven assured him. “I’ll need an isolation room, a sub-zero anti-thermal blanket, and a large bottle of water along with your temporary help.”

 

Julian nodded and jumped into action to fill the order quickly gathering what they needed as he escorted Gaven into a private room, figuring the man would explain as they went.

 

“Now what?” Julian asked.

 

“I need you to secure that door for me once we get started. I can’t afford prying eyes while I do this. In the meantime, I need you to cut off my shirt so the child can properly latch onto my skin.” Gaven explained.

 

“What are you going to do? Strip down and wrap yourself and her in that anti-thermal blanket? You’ll induce hypothermia.” Julian protested.

 

“Not in her. And only a little in me. You’re a doctor. I’m sure you can treat me for it after. I need to get her temperature down and this is the quickest way. Once her temperature is regulated, she’ll take the bottle, and then the mother can handle it from there. But if we’re going to keep perpetuating the idea I’m human I have to do it in here. This is a need to know kind of situation, doctor; and you’re in a need to know position.” Gaven insisted. “Let us get to it.”

 

Julian didn’t protest further and after locking down the room, he worked on fulfilling Gaven's requests. He didn’t see what all the fuss was about until he cut about halfway down Gaven’s shirt where he ripped it the rest away to expose the man’s toned muscular torso. Once he was completely visible from the waist up Julian suddenly saw the glaring difference in their anatomy.

 

Along the front of Gaven’s abdomen was a pocket of what looked like muscle and cartilage. There was one slot on either side of his stomach starting about two inches down from his rib cage and ending just above his defined pelvic muscle. It reminded Julian of a gill opening on a shark.

 

“Facinat…” Julian muttered as he nearly reached out and touched one.

 

“Later, doctor. I need you to position the anti-thermal blanket for me.” Gaven muttered.

 

“Right. How do we know when enough time has passed do you think?” Julian inquired.

 

“I’m hoping that she’ll unlatch and want out of it and off of me once her body temperature has normalized.” Gaven mused.

 

“Is that a professional opinion?” Julian quipped.

 

“No. More like an educated guess. Why don’t we find out if I’m right.” He urged.

 

Julian and Gaven didn’t waste any more time. The anti-thermal blanket was a thick insulated cooling blanket designed to rapidly reduce a person's body temperature in a short period. Prolonged time in one at least for humans could result in hypothermia and shock. True to his estimation the girl child seemed to latch onto Gaven by her fingers and toes which had little suckers on them then she went into a kind of stasis. Gaven joined her in this stasis, and after being secured on a med bed, he became verbally nonresponsive as the child and man were caught up together in a mutual kind of repose. For Julian’s part, he monitored them carefully, trying to come up with a quick game plan if something went awry. The experience was nerve-wracking for Julian since for once he felt like he didn’t know what was going on.

 

About forty-five minutes in and just about around the time Julian was ready to pull the plug on the whole damn experiment. Julian suddenly saw the child begin to stir and eventually indicate it was moving about independently and wanted out of the blanket as quickly as possible. Julian obliged her swiftly, and sure enough, the child suddenly seemed alert and very eager to return to her mother as she started making loud chirping noises and stood expectantly at the door.

 

“Quiet you. I’ll let you out in a moment. Gaven? Gaven, come on. Wake up.” Julian unwrapped the other doctor as swiftly as possible and began taking his vitals.

 

Not surprisingly he was in the beginning phase of hypothermia, and it took several minutes for the Doctor to stabilize him and get Gaven to start coming out of it.

 

“Damn it; you scared the Hell out of me!” Julian crossly said once Gaven began to open his eyes and show signs of independent awareness.

 

“Well? Did it work?” Gaven muttered his lips still shivering as Julian worked to stabilize his body temperature.

 

“Yes, it bloody well worked which seems like a damn miracle since I’m only vaguely certain you had any idea what the Hell you were doing,” Julian grumbled trying to keep his tone in check.

 

“Like I said…It was an educated guess. I’ll explain more about it later if you really want to know. Throw me something to wear if you would and get that girl back to her mother before they both have an anxiety attack. Everything should be fine now.” He insisted.

Chapter 3: Over Drinks

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: Over Drinks

 

Gaven spent the rest of the morning in the isolation room, recovering himself until he was right enough to retreat to his quarters for the day. Meanwhile, the rest of Julian’s day settled back into a typical normalcy. Julian was not about to just dismiss what had occurred and there were good odds that they both new it. So, it wasn’t surprising to Gaven when, sometime later that day, the computer indicated someone was waiting at his door.

 

“Come in,” Gaven said from his spot on the sofa he’d planted himself on with a blanket, pillow, and datapad in his lap.

 

A purposeful looking Julian stepped into the apartment and waited for the door to close behind him before he cut right to the chase of what had brought him there.

 

“Explain,” Julian demanded.

 

“Which part?” Gaven could tell the doctor was not incredibly pleased and had been brooding about it most of the day.

 

“How about we aim for just about all of it. How's that?” Julian almost spit the last two words.

 

“Won’t you sit down?” Gaven offered, intentionally ignoring the doctor’s tone.

 

Julian obliged him but never took his eyes off the man.

 

“Well shall we do this interrogation style, or do you want to go with a softer interview like approach?” Gaven inquired while adjusting his pillow before folding his hands in his lap.

 

“What did that woman tell you and how did you go about getting it out of her?” Julian wasn’t pulling any punches and launched right in.

 

“Interrogation style, it is.” Gaven sighed and cleared his throat. “As far as I can tell her species communicates using a combination of throat sounds, sign language, chemical signaling, and emotional telepathy. Her clothing and posture indicated she was likely an important figure from a matriarchal society. Perhaps an emissary or even a cultural leader. While you might not have understood her, she clearly understood what she was doing enough to realize where she needed to take her child for treatment and who to ask for aid. You’ll have noticed the adult’s body temperature was significantly high. Probably a kind of biological normality. As a mature adult, I’d wager that it was typical to see. The child was a juvenile though, too young and underdeveloped to regulate its body temperature in the same way she could. And so, as children are apt to do, the little one likely came down with a run of the mill fever in transit that just got a little out of hand. As for what she said to me when I linked with her for lack of a better word…”

 

“Linked? So, wait a moment. Did you link with her? As in telepathically?” Julian pressed.

 

“I linked with her, yes, biologically. It's more empathic than it is telepathic although in theory if I were dealing with certain species with telepathic abilities, I suppose I could probably communicate with them in that way. As I said, this was more emotional and biological. As a result, I was able to piece together a few theoretical possibilities. Since she knew you couldn’t understand her, she was mainly trying to show you what to do instead. Frankly, she found your lack of comprehension to be highly frustrating. That was the gist of it.”

 

“She thought me stupid?” Julian protested.

 

“In not so many words. I think a closer translation to her sentiments would have been that she found you to be inept.’” Gaven replied smiling slightly.

 

“Oh. Well that’s just so much better. What do you mean, in not so many words? Stupid and inept or both SINGLE words.” He fumed.

 

“Can we get past this, please? I think that you’re letting your indignity sideline you from your other burning questions.” Gaven muttered.

 

“Right. So how did you know the little one wanted to latch onto you?” Julian continued.

 

“I figured that if the mother could have controlled the child’s temperature herself, she would have. I also hypothesized that assuming she was from a matriarchal society there was a possibility that in her culture males would be expected to fulfill nurturing aspects of parenting. When it comes to survival, juveniles tend to do what’s instinctual. A hungry juvenile mammal, for example, will on instinct seek out its mother’s teat and try to latch. This child was trying to do the same thing to us by latching on so that it could try to disperse its body heat. We were the only males in the room after all. So I made an educated guess and it just happened to be right. Despite my empathic advantages I still use modern deductive reasoning, doctor.” Gaven explained.

 

Julian tilted his head down and then up again as if he saw some opportunity.

 

“Are the Oum a matriarchal society, by chance?” Julian asked carefully.

 

He was no doubt trying to back his way into inquiring about the gill-like openings upon the man’s abdomen.

 

Gaven knew what Julian was fishing for and tried to hold back an amused close-lipped smile. “No as a matter of fact.”

 

Julian didn’t say anything and waited.

 

“My people, doctor, do a tremendous amount of compensating for the radiation exposure we’re afflicted by. While my people have developed a natural tolerance, we can’t generally escape the logical consequences of such exposure. Congenital disabilities are common, as well as severe deformities and other deficiencies during the development process. That’s why my people developed telepathic and empathic abilities. To ensure communication and connection between those who would otherwise not be able to achieve it through natural biological means. Procreation is orchestrated very carefully by my people, and for the most part, a large amount of congenital abnormality is acceptable, even embraced and preferred in Oum society. Many Oum are intersex with varying reproductive abilities.” Gaven explained.

 

"Your people embrace genetic mutation and deformity? Well, that is a new one. You look remarkably developed considering what you're inferring.” Julian noted gently trying to hold back a deep sense of alarm at the idea.

 

“Sometimes anomalies happen. Oum like myself who do not present with any distinct abnormalities have their genetics harvested so that we may breed others like us for service or be bound to compatible gentry in order to prolong their lives.” Gaven said neatly.

 

“You’re bred into servitude for being born unencumbered? That’s ludicrous.” Julian protested.

 

“It is the honor and duty of the bondservant to act as living extensions of our bondmaster’s minds and bodies. My people covet their mutations as the highest expression of beauty and individualism.” Gaven let out an exulting sigh.

 

 “Every culture has its unique appreciation for aesthetics,” Gaven said distantly. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, I’m human. Remember?”

 

“Remarkable.” Julian got to his feet as his mind began to spin and spin forming fast connections around what the other doctor had revealed. “I think we did a fair good amount of work today. I’m glad you were there, and I look forward to seeing what other professional adventures we can get up to. Well, I suppose I’ve taken up just about enough of your time for the evening. I think I’m going to go and seek out a good…game of darts. Care to come along?”

 

“No. Thank you, Doctor. I’d rather stay in and get an early start tomorrow. I’ll see you then.” Gaven replied.

 

“Yes. Tomorrow. Goodnight then.” Julian saluted and headed for the exit. His mind reeling like mad despite his calm looking demeanor.

 

“Oh. Before you go, Doctor Bashir. The answer to the question you didn’t ask me is ‘yes.’ I am functionally intersex.  I’ll see you in the morning.” Gaven’s eyes had fallen back upon his datapad though he didn’t need to look up to know that Julian had stiffened before he’d recovered himself and let himself out.

 

In his absence, Gaven smiled to himself indulgently but the satisfied feeling lasted only a minute before his memories had him scowling once more.

 

~@~

 

For the next few days, Gaven kept to himself while working and spent a great deal of his time out of the office. Starfleet didn’t have any records or documentation on the species he and Dr. Bashir had treated, and Gaven wanted to remedy the fact.

 

His absence gave Julian ample time to consider the things Gaven had said and not said about his people. More than anything he was finding it frustrating not to be able to vent about his thoughts openly. Julian’s tolerance for his unfulfilled curiosity finally got the better of him by the end of the second day Gaven had been away. Apparently, he was conversing and spending time with the alien woman.

 

“I don’t like it,” Julian grumbled as he and Jadzia examined some data regarding the Poly radiation they were supposed to be analyzing.

 

“Don’t like what?” Dax distractedly asked as she compared the Data Gaven had given her to other known radiation types in the computer database.

 

“All this cloak and dagger business we’re dealing with. Here we are trying to beat back the Dominion. Everything is in shambles, and then out of nowhere a man appears who possibly could be the answers to all our problems, but we’re not allowed to know a damn thing about anything to do with him. Who are the Oum? Why, after all this time, have they changed their behavior and allowed one of their own to leave the planet?”

 

“You know Julian sometimes you need to stick around a little longer during briefings. I think Dr. Ore has been very candid about why he’s here. More so than he is required to be. It also seems he’s quite willing to answer questions when they’re directly put to him and asked by people that are allowed to know. If you want insight into his culture, homeworld, and circumstances so badly why don’t you just ask him about it?” Jadzia muttered.

 

“I have a little. Frankly, it seems downright bewildering to know even a little of what I’ve learned.” Julian confessed.

 

“Maybe that’s the whole point, Julian. All politics aside maybe Dr. Ore left his home world because he was disturbed by the same things you are. Different cultures have different rules and expectations. Usually, people get expelled because they’re either unwilling or unable to conform to those rules and expectations. I feel sad for him, frankly. It's just that he’s so brilliant and has so much to offer and now he’s lost everything. Did you know that he has an eidetic memory? All of the data he gave us from his homeworld was transcribed from memory. He wasn’t able to take anything off world with him. Can you imagine what that must be like?” Jadzia asked rhetorically.

 

Julian did know what it was like to be eidetic given he had the same ability. Though somehow he doubted that Dax had gotten it completely right. It appeared that Gaven had many unique skills that no one would have suspected.

 

“What I am happy about is I think he might have found a friend. There’s this beautiful red woman I’ve seen him with the last few days. He looks peaceful around her. Who knows, maybe there’s something there.” Dax shrugged.

 

“Somehow I doubt it. Gaven's probably looking to write a dissertation on her for Starfleet or Vulcan.” Julian muttered dismissively.

 

“Wow, so that’s it. Huh. You disappoint me, Julian, I thought you were above that kind of pettiness.” Jadzia said flatly. “I can’t believe you’re jealous of Dr. Ore.”

 

What? No. I’m not jealous of him. That’s ridiculous.” Julian protested.

 

“Is it? Did you see his equivalency scores? They're not fabrications. Dr. Ore has enough medical and scientific knowledge in his fields to put both of us to shame, and I’ve been through how many lifetimes? He’s an amazing asset to have on our side. Face it, Julian. You’re used to being the best around here. You're a medical prodigy and everyone likes you. You’ve already achieved so much so quickly, and now you're faced with a man that might just be better than you and you don’t even have the satisfaction of knowing how much better he is or how he got to be that way. You like him too, and it bugs you that you have to really try with him.” Jadzia pointed out in her matter-of-fact way.

 

“Well, he may be brilliant, but he’s also deeply depressed, isolated, and…and I’m really at a loss for how to help him. I just wish I knew more about his circumstances.” Julian admitted as he thought about the medical trouble Gaven was heading towards and how little Julian had yet to learn that could help him.

 

“Well considering he gave up his planet, his people, his culture, and his identity…I’d say that is to be expected. As for the rest, maybe the best way to help him is to be there for him. If he’ll let you and if you can manage it. I can’t imagine what it must be like to keep such huge secrets about your life from people.” Jadzia mused.

 

Julian, on the other hand, could imagine it and felt creeping wedge of empathy wiggle its way into his chest. “I’ll have you know I’ve tried to befriend him. I ask him out to lunch, to darts…He never takes me up on any of it or extends an invitation in return.”

 

“Maybe he doesn’t like public places. Think about it, Julian. He knows we’re all curious about him and he knows he has to be careful what he says and where. Although it seems like when you ask him things directly and in private, he’s more than willing to answer questions and converse about his experiences. Maybe instead of inviting him out to things you should try spending time with him in private.” Jadzia pointed out. “It can’t hurt to try.”

 

~@~

 

Later that evening Gaven was in his quarters for the day writing reports and trying to ignore the lurking darkness of his thoughts. The night had been painful for him with dreams of his final days on Oum as well as haunting memories of what had come after. When he eventually awoke, he found himself in intense physical and emotional pain.  Greif consumed him and his muscles ached with the muscle memory of long hours of interrogation and subtle torture.

 

Writing the reports through the day in his quarters instead of in his office had helped to contain but not relieved his suffering completely and had served only to numb him until he felt utterly hollow and wrung out inside. Putting down his pad after several hours of work done lounging upon his favorite sofa, Gaven finally put his pad aside and crossed his arms to stare into the space of the room. How long was he to go on like this? He wondered. Displeased with himself Gaven finally stood, he’d grown stiff from lounging in one position for so long and moved towards a display table that sat near the far wall of his quarters close to the entry door.

 

Gaven hadn’t meditated on his feelings for some time. He preferred to live with the debilitating and intrusive heaviness of his feelings instead of trying to purge them. Maybe in a way, he felt that holding onto his suffering was likened to holding on to the memory of his world now lost.

 

On the table was what looked like a simple collection of crystals and a dark stone obelisk or two. At the center was a small, engraved metal box that glowed and pulsed gently. Gaven hovered near the metal box his eyes focused on it. Eventually, he took it up in his hand. Sighing to himself, Gaven turned around and allowed himself to slide down into a sitting position on the floor with his back rested against the display. He then held the box in front of him and hesitated a moment before he triggered it to open and display the three-dimensional image of himself standing and laughing with a figure hanging upon his back.

“Come, Lopel Ner. Look! Look! Look! See? We’ve missed it again. I don’t know how I’ll ever forgive you.” The box said as it projected a brief hologram of Lopel Ner chuckling and clinging to his back.

 

The audio of the memory box made Gaven suddenly smile as tears welled once more in his eyes and he choked a little, mourning both easy men he saw reflected before him. Gaven raised his free hand to touch the projection which flickered and replayed itself a few more times.

 

“Yes, we’ve missed it again, Lopel Ner. We’ve missed it again.” He repeated to himself.

 

Gaven might have given himself over to a few heart-wrenching sobs had the bell on his door not suddenly rung jarring him into hurried composure. Getting quickly to his feet, Gaven closed the box and put it back in place before he briskly scrubbed at his face and upon the second ring brought himself to answer the door.

 

“Doctor…What, what can I do for you?” Gaven was surprised Julian was on the other side of the door holding in his arms a bottle of some blue liquid and a package of food.

 

“Good evening, Doctor. A patient of mine gifted me with a bottle of blue Acrelian mead and since I happened to be on this side of the habitation ring, I thought you might be interested in testing it with me. I’m told it’s supposed to have quite an interesting effect. I also brought dinner along. I figured if the mead isn’t to our liking, we could console ourselves with something more palatable. Since you helped on the patient case last week, I felt it only fair that you get half of the resulting spoi…” Julian had been making such a show of his gesture that he hadn’t bothered to look at Gaven directly until just near the end of his speech.

 

When he did, he was alarmed to see the state the man was in. The good doctor looked sick and pale, his eyes seemed more hooded than usual and appeared bruised as if he’d been rubbing at his face all day and though his clothes were in order, he radiated a disheveled wild kind of energy that made his hawkish glare almost alarming.

 

“Gaven are you ill? You look like Hell.” Julian muttered.

 

“I’m fine. Please, come in.” Not wanting to discuss his state of mind out in the open Gaven saw no choice but to retreat into his quarters and allow Julian to come with him. “I’m just a little out of sorts today.”

 

“Why do I feel as if that is an understatement?” Julian inquired lightly.

 

“Because it probably is.” Gaven smiled slowly, unable to resist subtle honesty just then.

 

“Well, perhaps it's a good thing I dropped by. Nothing beats a somber mood than a good meal, some alien spirits, and some company.” Julian said in that over-the-top stage fashion he liked to use when trying to lighten the mood.

 

“Really. I’m appreciative, but you don’t have to do this. I’m quite alright.” Gaven protested.

 

“Oh contrar’, I want to do this. And anyway, I outrank you as the CMO of this station and your physician. Sit and eat something. You’ll feel better, and it’ll make me feel better to see you do it.” Julian wasn’t above pulling rank and professional status when it was warranted. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but it’s been building for weeks and I’m not the only one worried about you. I am however able to help you. If you’ll let me.”

 

“I see.” Gaven said, “In that case, I suppose it would be rude of me to avoid your charity and professional concern.”

 

Gaven settled into a chair near the small round dining table and gestured for Julian to proceed.

 

“Good,” Julian said approvingly as he jumped right into unpacking in that directive way that indicated he was in no mood to be swayed.

 

For the next forty-five minutes, Julian watched with a doctor’s concern as Gaven slowly ate whatever was put before him until he started to gain back some proper coloring. Julian was almost sure the man hadn’t eaten since the day before, and once he had, it seemed like his mood lightened considerably.

 

“Well, doctor? Shall we get started?” Gaven suddenly said when he caught Julian starting to stare off into space for the lack of conversation between them. “I’m sure you didn’t come here just to feed me. We should find something safe to talk about.”

 

“Indeed. I know. What was it like on that Vulcan Freighter? You were there for some time, I understand?” Julian dropped out of his stupor and launched right in.

 

“Eight months. Granted I was mostly unconscious for the first three, but it was still a long time. As candidates go, I can see why the Vulcan’s are a desirable first contact species. At the time they found me I had been expelled from Oum and was floating around in space barely clinging to life. I think if they had not had some telepathic abilities, they might have accidentally blasted my tomb-like transport out of space or ignored it outright. But one of them felt my distress and convinced the crew to investigate and ultimately extract me.” Gaven said candidly.

 

“That’s terrible. Why not just kill you on your world if your people were planning to go about it like that and leave you for dead anyway.” Julian muttered.

 

“Peace Doctor,” Gaven said evenly looking down into his lap. “The Oum are not as cruel as they sound. My people don’t believe in execution. But they do believe in honorable suicide when certain conditions have been met. My actions on Oum warranted the course that was taken, and, in many ways, it was an exceptional kind of compromise.”

 

 “I’d like to think being exile from one’s home planet when you are not a species that allows contact with other ones could be likened to willfully murdering a person. In spirit anyway.” Julian remarked. “I don’t understand what you could have possibly done to deserve being jettisoned like that into space.”

 

“Mm. I willfully defied the rules of my culture in an unacceptable way. The knowledge of that choice weighs heavily upon me. But in the end, it was my right to decide the means of my ritual suicide and if I had no intention of dying in the process that was of no consequence to the fact that an example still had to be made.”

 

“So, it was a calculated gamble.” Julian was trying to follow along without prying too much into the specifics of the situation. “Did you really plan to be found out in space?”

 

Gaven scoffed. “At the time I can’t say I was in any condition to be calculating about anything. What I do know is all thought and feeling has a certain frequency. Who is anyone to know what can and does pick up on such things?”

 

“You called the Vulcan’s to you?” Picking up the implications, Julian felt impressed. He hadn’t thought Gaven’s telepathic abilities were as strong as all that.

 

“In my suffering and despair, I reached out to anyone or thing that could have been listening on the off chance someone heard me. To my surprise someone did. As for being on the freighter the Vulcan’s treated me like they would most first contact situations, with caution. Although my telepathic abilities convinced them rather logically that I was from an advanced, intellectually aware, and space capable species. So, since they weren’t a science vessel but happened to be carrying well connected passengers, they had no choice but to drop me at the closest Vulcan controlled starbase as a refugee.” He explained.

 

 “There was a young Vulcan ambassador who happened to be traveling with them. He was the one who saved my life. When we melded our minds, he found due reason to assist me and over time the other Vulcan’s curiosity outweighed their sense of risk. I like to think they came to respect both my emotional depth and the strong mental control the Oum cultivate which I think feels like an intriguing contradiction of logic to them. In exchange for my assistance with some problems they had later, they agreed to allow me to learn about their culture and eventually opened their common database to me. I essentially spent the rest of my trip absorbing information in a containment bay.” Gaven finished.

 

“Fascinating. Do you know how to do that neck pinch thing Vulcans are so famous for?” Julian asked with childlike interest. “I've always wanted to be able to do it but can’t seem to get the technique right.”

 

“Yes, and it's probably because your energy exchange isn’t fine-tuned enough. Humans can achieve it, but it requires some telepathic predisposition and projection. Most humans aren’t self-aware enough to accomplish it.” Gaven explained.

 

“But you can do it?” Julian noted.

 

“Yes. But then again, I’m not a human, and as you’ve seen, I have some telepathic and empathetic abilities natural to my species.” Gaven replied humbly.

 

At that Julian finally cracked open the mead and poured for them. “Speaking of that. I’ve been meaning to ask you something on the personal side having to do with something from a while back. I swear you answered my question but naturally that led to more questions and being a doctor and in the name of scientific discovery I was just wondering…I mean if it’s too personal please feel free to not tell me about it…”

 

Gaven chuckled slightly. The first time Julian had ever seen him exhibit evidence of a sense of humor.

 

“You want to know about the…” Gaven wiggled a pointer finger between his chest and abdomen indicating he knew exactly what Julian was referring to from before. “As I said before, doctor, the answer is yes.”

 

Julian grinned wide and blushed slightly proving he was both satisfied and embarrassed by the suggestion that he’d possibly been thinking about Gaven’s anatomical features for so long. “Have you ever carried children?”

 

With a smile still on his face, Gaven picked up his mead glass and sipped from it before answering in that humble though amused way he had of displaying when he felt warmed by someone else's interest in him. “No.”

 

“Is…Uh. Do all Oum come equipped?” Julian asked taking a big swig from his glass.

 

Gaven smiled more fully and drank again. “You don’t have to be so delicate about it, doctor. And the answer is no. I requested to be genetically modified later and was given carrier rights through Augmentation. Procreation you understand is a very delicate matter on Oum since most of our people are either sterile or biologically incapable of carrying offspring safely. Breeding is carefully controlled and often done via surrogate, those like me are particularly favorable because we have ideal bodies for the task that put less stress on a fetus that is already likely to struggle to form completely in the first place.”

 

“Interesting. For a people who reduce the able like yourself to a subservient position in your society they still largely prefer you for…carriers.” Julian’s indignity began to rise slightly.

 

“Life is full of contradictions.” Gaven sympathized.

 

“If you requested the modification you must have been planning to…” Julian surmised realizing too late that it was perhaps insensitive for him to ask more probing questions about Gaven’s intentions.

 

Gaven didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said more than Julian was comfortable with.

 

“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. You’ve been more than candid on the subject to appease my curiosity.” Julian backtracked.

 

“Do you want children, Julian?” Gaven asked casually. His smile had dropped away and was obstructed by his glass as he finished it off.

 

“Well, I don’t know really. It would be such a big decision, and I haven’t met anyone that fit the bill if you will. Many humans like to be paired when it comes to these things. But, uh, yes. I suppose I would like to be a parent if I ever got the chance. I like to think I’d make for a good father someday despite not having the best of models to work from.” It didn’t escape Julian’s attention that this was the first time that night Gaven had addressed him by his first name instead of by his title.

 

“The Oum like to be paired too whenever possible but for more practical reasons and not just emotional ones,” Gaven remarked.

 

At this Julian was tempted to ask what Gaven’s circumstances had been regarding the subject while on Oum but he thought it impolite just then and refrained from posing the question.

 

“Right. I believe it’s time for a second round.” Julian said to change the subject.

 

“Yes. This may also be a good chance for you to explain this game of yours to me you’re always talking about. What was it called again?” Gaven asked.

 

“Darts. It’s called darts.” Now it seemed it was Julian’s turn to smile.

 

Chapter 4: Questions and Theories

Chapter Text

Chapter Four: Questions and Theories

 

It was nearly three in the morning when Jadzia’s communicator went off while she was in the middle of finishing a complex project she’d stayed late on her shift to complete.

 

“Dax here,” Jadzia muttered after tapping the receiver to find out who was summoning her.

 

“Good morning, this is Doctor Ore. I don’t mean to disturb you. But could you assist me with something in my quarters?" There was a mild crash in the background and a irregular kind of giggle from someone other than Dr. Ore.

 

“What in Hell? Yeah, I’ll be right there. I suspect this isn’t something you felt needed security?” Jadzia asked.

 

“No, but I think it might warrant the assistance of a good friend. Doctor Ore, out.” At that, the communicator went silent and Jadzia decided she better head as quickly as possible to the habitation ring.

 

“My god. Julian! What have you two been doing in here?” By the time Dax arrived at Gaven ’s quarters a very drunk Julian could be found half out of uniform and about 3/Fourth of the way through one of Worf’s Klingon operas.

 

“I’m sorry, Dax. I guess he was right about that Acrelian mead having an interesting effect on its drinkers. I suppose I could have sedated him, but I wasn’t sure where Dr. Bashir’s quarters were, and I’d rather not have him sleep here.” A very sober seeming Doctor Ore said apologetically.

 

“Real Acrelian Mead? Julian! You know that stuff is contraband. What were you thinking and how much of it did you have?” Jadzia scolded Incredulously.

 

“He had three or four glasses. We both did. I didn’t realize we were breaking any rules.” Gaven said.

 

“Starfleet officers aren't technically allowed to consume non-synthesized alcohol,” Jadzia explained. “Particularly not ones laced with hallucinogens, JULIAN. Did he know that before you guys started abiding?”

 

Gaven shrugged indicating he wasn’t sure.

 

“If you had just as much as he did why aren’t you acting like an insane person?” Jadzia quipped while she tried to pick her friend up off the floor.

 

“I guess I metabolized it more efficiently. I’ll examine a sample later if you want a more scientific explanation.” Gaven replied as he swooped in to help by getting on Julian’s other side so that they could both hoist him into a standing position.

 

“If Odo catches him like this there’s going to be Hell to pay. Look, I know it’s a huge imposition but conscious or unconscious I don’t know how we’re going to get him back to his quarters. Would you remotely consider letting him stay here and sleep it off once he finally crashes? My quarters are just as far away as Julian's are, and Worf wouldn’t approve of me bringing him home.” Jadzia pleaded not enjoying the prospect of dragging an intoxicated loud or limp Julian through the corridors for any reason.

 

Gaven looked displeased by the prospect but found he had little room to refuse. “Fine.”

 

“Thank you so much, Gaven. I’m sorry to invade your priva…” Just as they were getting Julian to his feet, a sudden hallucination kicked in causing the doctor to struggle out of their arms.

 

“You're a coward, Dr. Renaldo! Agent X and I have no intention of letting you steal the Maltese Cummerbund.” Julian announced swinging around to face them.

 

“Do you know what he’s talking about?” Gaven muttered sidelong.

 

“Not a clue. But this could get ugly. Julian has a personal interest in human spy stories. I think he’s having a delusion. We should probably sedate him. You wouldn’t happen to have a hypo needle on you?” Jadzia asked only half serious.

 

“No. My med bag is back in my office in the infirmary.” Gaven said as he kept his eyes trained on Julian who just happened to be hovering in a stupid manner somewhat close to Gaven’s display area.

 

“Come on, Julian. Calm down. No one is stealing your Maltese whatcha-ma-call-it. Why don’t you slowly come this way and lie down.” Jadzia tried to coax.

 

“A likely diversion. You’ve probably already taken it. Where is it hiding? What do you take me for?” Julian protested loudly.

 

“Right now? An idiot. Now get over here before you break something.” Jadzia demanded.

 

Gaven suddenly got an idea. “I think Dr. Renaldo is up to her old tricks again, Julian. Luckily, I, Agent X, have planned for such treachery. Look there. I’ve planted a tracking beacon behind you there. If its blue that means the Maltese…Cum…The cummerbund is somewhere here in the room. I’ve got Dr. Renaldo covered. I need you to turn around and tell me if the tracking device there on the display has turned blue.”

 

“My pleasure. And good work Agent X. Hold her now.” Just as Julian stumbled to turn around and reach for the metal box sitting on the display counter, Dr. Ore rushed him from behind catching him where his neck and shoulders met with a finger grip that caused Julian to lose consciousness immediately.

 

Dr. Ore managed to catch Julian as he collapsed, dragging him by the chest with some effort to the nearby sofa.

 

“The Vulcan Nerve Pinch. Impressive.” Jadzia said.

 

“Yes. Well, I am not without certain skills. Though I perhaps did it a little harder than is customary. Our Doctor Bashir is going to have one Hell of a hangover when he wakes up.” Gaven observed.

 

“Deservedly so. Are you sure it isn’t too much of an imposition to keep Julian here tonight?” Jadzia asked.

 

“I admit it’s not my preference but given what you’ve told me I don’t see that there’s much choice. I’ll take care of Dr. Bashir. I promise.” Gaven reassured her.

 

“I have no doubt. Well, if you think you can handle Julian from here, I guess I’ll be going.” Jadzia said with a sigh. “We’ll be having words later.”

 

“Don’t be too hard on him, Dax. I think he was trying to help me.” Gaven said lightly.

 

“I see. I guess Julian finally took my advice. Too bad he made such an ass of himself.” She muttered glaring down at her friend.

 

“I respect his efforts,” Gaven admitted.

 

At this Dax finally turned her attention away from Julian and centered it wholly on Gaven. “How are you doing, really?”

 

Gaven shrugged slightly. “The best that can be expected. I like it here on Deep Space Nine. I know I come off…Shy. And I’ll be the first to admit things aren’t easy for me, but for the first time since being expelled from Oum, I feel like I could belong somewhere again and become important to some people if enough time passes. I hope Jadzia greatly that someday I may find myself whole again and I suspect this is as good a place as any to resurrect myself from the dead.”

 

As was her way to act on instinct, Jadzia stepped closer to him and pulled Gaven into a strong embrace. “I can’t imagine your pain Dr. Gaven Ore-Oum. But many of us are very fond of you here and would like to see a happier side of you. Try not to disappoint us.”

 

“I’ll do my best.” Though he was surprised Gaven did not resist her compassionate gesture and even embraced her back. “Now get going before Worf decides to come searching for you. The last thing I want is to be the cause of offending a sleep-deprived Klingon trying to locate his mate.”

 

Jadzia laughed and pulled away. “Thanks again for that gift basket. I can promise you it went to good use.”

 

“As was evidenced when you and Worf came in a few days later individually for medical treatment. Goodnight, and wish him well for me.” Gaven walked Dax to the door and saw her out.

 

Once gone Gaven sighed profoundly and glanced around to the scene that was waiting for him. The table was a mess, the room somewhat disheveled, and now he had the added problem of a half-naked Doctor laying unconscious on his sofa. Picking up his datapad, Gaven briefly took the opportunity to look up what exactly they’d been eating and drinking to determine if there were any specific medical things to be concerned over. The last thing he wanted was for Julian to end up in a coma if the nerve pinch, he’d used to subdue him, poorly reacted to the hallucinogens coursing through the doctor’s system. Seeing no worrisome interactions of note, Gaven put down the datapad and sat back down in his chair as he pondered what to do next.

 

It was true that it wasn’t his preference to have the Doctor in his quarters for the night. Mostly because Gaven’s repose was always the worst time for him emotionally, it wouldn’t do to have the other doctor come to in the middle of the morning only to find Gaven thrashing and sobbing in his sleep. Though he supposed if he were found out he could always blame it on the Acrelian mead they’d drank. Gaven reflected on the things Julian had asked him. His circumstances of life had been complicated by the end while on Oum. Gaven had lost more than he would ever admit when his beloved counterpart had been killed. The least of which was the dream of the child they had planned to produce together. Now the memory of what they had been planning to do held extra significance to him.

 

There were times, often in the early morning when he could not abide the strength of his grief, that Gaven would instead allow his imagination to play out a particular fantasy to cull his suffering. In it, he imagined that before his counterpart had died, they’d completed the in-vitro fertilization process and that when Gaven was expelled from Oum, he secretly would have been carrying their child. A profoundly forbidden memento of a life that was no longer his to own as well as a piece of his counterpart whom it had never been his place to love. It was a comforting though bitter fantasy and one that made the muscles in his abdomen twist painfully in longing over the genetically grafted womb he’d worked so hard to gain and fill.

 

Fingering the edge of one of the cartilage-like linings of his abdominal openings through the fabric, Gaven shut his eyes a moment but then reminded himself of where he was and what was happening around him. He pulled his hand away and stood suddenly annoyed with himself. Out of the edge of his gaze, Gaven caught Julian stir slightly in his sleep due to the uncomfortable position Gaven and Jadzia had dropped him in. Gaven sighed again realizing that if it came down to him or Bashir, he would much rather have been the one miserable. Walking over to the sofa, Gaven assessed the situation and came to a decision.

 

“Come on, Doctor. Might as well put you in my bed where I can at least keep a better eye on you.” Gaven who was much broader built than Julian grabbed the more petite man by the arm and hoisted him up over his shoulder carefully adjusting as not to topple them both as he carried Julian into the other room and laid him down on the bed. “You owe me for this one. I hope you realize that.”

 

Upon tucking Julian in, Gaven went back out into the main room so that he could go about setting everything to right and getting rid of the evidence of their immorality. It didn’t take long to put the space back in order. Having nothing further to do, Gaven briefly considered bunking down on the sofa which admittedly was not an uncommon place to sleep before the gurgling sounds coming from his bedroom suggested that it might be better if he sat up and saw Julian through the night. This was a prudent course if only to prevent the chance of Julian drowning in his vomit if he sickened while unconscious. The job of a doctor was never done.

 

Entering tentatively into the bedroom once more, Gaven stared at the sleeping Julian wishing to high heaven the man was less attractive in his repose than he was when he was awake. Yes, Julian owed him big time for this. Pulling up a chair next to the bed Gaven borrowed the extra blanket from the bed’s foot and settled into his nursemaid's repose. If Julian thought that Gaven was going to stare at him all night in worry, the young doctor had another thing coming. Gaven planned full well to sleep tonight even if it was upright. “Good night Dr. Bashir. I’m very…Happy to have enjoyed your company.”

 

Several hours later, the com in the room began to blink indicating a quarter-to-quarter call. Julian had conditioned himself to instantly wake up to such subtle beeping noises lest it was someone in medical need. He immediately jolted upright in a bed that didn’t feel like his own and instantly regretted the swiftness of his actions as one of the most painful hangovers he’d ever experienced made itself known in his neck, shoulders and behind his eyes. The com beeped again as Julian muttered an almost intelligible, “Hello. Who’s calling?”

 

“Well look who decided to wake up. I’ll have you know Julian that when I told you to reach out to Doctor Ore, I didn’t mean having him babysit you through a drunken stupor. If you were going to drink Acrelian mead, you could have at least had the decency to invite me along with you. Now get up and keep in mind that it's very possible that Doctor Ore had no choice but to stay up all night to make sure you didn’t jump out an airlock or choke on your bile sometime after you passed out. You and I will be talking more about this later. Dax out.”

 

The com clicked off ending the call just in time for Julian to start piecing together the events leading up to the point where he’d passed out. His memory was mostly clear up until about his third glass of Acrelian mead. At which point he just had a few flashes of what had transpired. Despite being painfully hung over he also managed to ascertain that he was likely still in Gaven’s quarters and that it was probably extremely late in the morning and well past the time both men were due to show up for their shifts. Gingerly getting up out of bed Julian edged his way towards the living room and peeked into the living space. Everything was as immaculate as when he had first arrived, and the only evidence that Julian had been there at all was the meticulously cleaned and bundled stack of dishes he’d brought with him that had contained their dinner.

 

At first, Gaven was nowhere to be found and Bashir almost wondered if the man hadn’t left earlier. But when Julian plodded back into the bedroom to gather his neatly folded and pressed clothes, Julian noted that Gaven was indeed still there. True to Jadzia’s assessment he had indeed been keeping vigil over him propped up in a chair beside the bed. Now Gaven looked to be in a deep sleep and once again the man looked unwell. Julian sometimes wondered if his apparent fatigue was more than just emotional disparity and if he was beginning to show signs of radiation sickness from lack of exposure.

 

Julian got dressed as quickly as he dared and contemplated whether it was better just to leave or try to rouse Gaven from his slumber and encourage him to go back to bed. While Julian had to make an appearance one way or another in the infirmary, Doctor Ore was not technically required to be there every day and was welcome to take liberties with his schedule whenever he liked.

 

After several moments of contemplation, Julian finally decided it was better to try and rouse the other man. He didn’t like the idea of just leaving Gaven sleeping upright in the chair and apart of Julian also wanted to make sure the other man was alright before he left him alone.

 

Coming around the side of the bed, Julian gently pinched either side of one of the doctor’s knees and shook it. “Gaven? Gaven, wake up.”

 

Not unsurprisingly Julian’s efforts did little to stir the man.

 

Sighing, Julian took a moment to take some old-fashioned vitals to make sure Gaven genuinely was just in a deep sleep. His breathing was normal though his pulse was a little fast, Julian noted. Without his instruments, Julian had to rely on his doctoring common sense. Pushing a dark curl from the other man’s temple, Julian pressed the palm of his hand to Gaven’s forehead checking for signs of an abnormal change in body temperature. His temperature turned out to be normal but when Julian went to pull his hand away from Gaven’s face his fingertips accidentally brushed against a wet part of Gaven’s skin just above his cheekbone. Upon closer inspection, in the dim light, Julian noted his face and throat were moist with tears, and Julian could see the doctor’s upper eye skin quiver indicating his eyes were rapidly moving under their lids which meant that Gaven was likely in an intense state of REM.

 

Worried for him, Julian gripped Gaven’s shoulder and shook it a little more aggressively. “Gaven, wake up. You're in a bad dream. It’s all right. It's me, Doctor Bashir. Come along now.”

 

Gaven stirred just enough to expel a whimper and stretch as one hand reached out fingers extended to touch something that wasn’t there. His body trembled a little bit as his consciousness ebbed a little closer to conscious reality but didn’t entirely turn over into wakefulness.

 

Bashir’s heart twisted painfully for witnessing what he realized was a more honest representation of what the good doctor must have been privately feeling all this time. While Jadzia had often indicated she thought Gaven was indeed in a great deal of private pain, the weight and depth of it had never really struck Julian as clearly as it did now. Growing more concerned by the second and not wanting to startle the vulnerable man out of his troubled repose, Julian sunk onto the bed and sidled up close to the other doctor until their knees pressed. Julian carefully caught Gaven’s open hand and squeezed it pushing his free hand into the side of Gaven’s face leaning in close so that when he spoke again, he could take on a more intimate and authoritative tone.

 

“Gaven, I said wake up. You’re all right. It's a bad dream. Whatever is going on it’s not real anymore. Let it go and open your eyes for me. Gentle now. I won’t leave you, but I want you to open your eyes and look at me.”

 

Finally, Julian’s coaxing was enough and Gaven did eventually open his reddened and swollen eyes to look at him briefly. Unfortunately, Gaven couldn’t sustain eye contact long before a fresh wave of waking grief rumbled up through him forcing the usually so controlled man to crumple forward and into Julian’s arms. Without reserve, he then quietly sobbed and whimpered with his eyes and the bridge of his nose pressed into the hollow part of Julian's left shoulder where his arm converged with his chest.

 

For a moment Julian was worried the man might fall out of his chair and it took a bit of reordering to readjust somewhat so that Julian could brace his back against the contemporary backboard of the bed and essentially pull the other man halfway into his lap as he might have done with a distressed child. Gaven, who usually would have been appalled by the whole business for once gave in allowing the doctor to do his job and perform a more evolved sort of bedside manner.

 

“I’m sorry, Gaven. I didn’t know it was this bad. I had no possible idea. I promise I won’t tell anyone, but you must let me help you find a way to address this properly. You can’t face this kind of turmoil alone anymore. It’s too much. You’ve been through unspeakable trauma, and I should have known better. I should have seen how deeply it ran. I promise it's going to be alright. Just hold onto me and try to go back to sleep.”

 

Gaven didn’t say anything or look at Julian again but eventually, his convulsive movements eased, and his grip loosened proving he was spent and too tired to bother feeling embarrassed.

 

As it turned out Julian didn’t end up leaving Gaven’s quarters until the afternoon and only departed when he was sure that the man would sleep without further disturbance for some time. Instead of going directly to the infirmary or even to Dax, Julian made a direct line for one of Quarks halo-suites bribing the first customer he saw to give up their spot so that Julian could utilize one of the programs immediately.

 

As had become common now that his friend Felix had finally come through for him and sent the program that he’d been designing ahead of schedule, Julian pulled up the lounge singer Vic’s program. He desperately needed to unburden his mind but didn’t want to technically violate his patient-doctor confidence by confessing himself to one of his friends. He wasn’t ready to go to Captain Sisko about the matter either, although that would have been his second-best choice.

 

“Why so glum, chum? How about a song to lighten your spirits?” The rat pack inspired lounge singer said upon appearing in front of Julian at the holo-bar.

 

“Not now, Vic. I need to talk, and you're my only safe option.” Julian distraughtly muttered.

 

“Sure kid. Tell old Vici boy what happened.” The lounge singer pulled up a stool and ordered them both a drink.

 

“He just fell apart, Vic. In all my years as a trained medical professional, I’ve never experienced anything as raw as that. Even when I’ve dealt with grieving families…It’s never been like that.” Julian muttered. “And the worst part is that this has likely been going on all along. He’s been here on Deep Space Nine for weeks now, suffering and no one knew. He didn’t let anyone in.”

 

“Well although I don’t know who you’re talking about, kid, it sounds like he’s let you in. You gotta admit, that’s got to count for something.” Vic reasoned. “Nobodies an island. What exactly happened? Did he owe someone money, get jilted by a dame?”

 

“I don’t know. The man has been kicked off his planet for some reason. Abandoned and left for dead. Clearly its more than that though. He must have lost people he cared about. Maybe even someone he loved. God, who knows what else. Starfleet knows so little about his people, and I know so little about his actual circumstances before he came to the station that it's hard to understand it all. To top that all off he’s medically sick and emotionally destroyed. And so far, I can’t do anything for him.” Julian angrily growled.

 

“Sounds like the guy is completely down and out. I gotta admit I’ve been there myself and you want to know what pulled me out of it? Good friends, the love of a good woman, and the sweet, sweet music.” Vic mused.

 

“Thanks, Vic. That’s just so helpful,” Julian complained.

 

“I’m telling you, kid. The best thing you can do for the guy is to try to be there for him. Keep him distracted and give him a reason to keep on living. The good thing about losing everything is that you have everything new to gain.”

 

“Maybe your right. I just don’t understand why this situation is bothering me so much. I wouldn’t call the Doctor and me, friends, per se. He’s a colleague and an extraordinary and talented man. But…” Julian muttered.

 

“So, you got an irrational soft spot for the lug. It happens.” Vic muttered. “You don’t need to be friends with someone to care about them.”

 

~@~

 

Several hours later Julian was looking green around the gills but tolerably capable as he made up for lost time in the infirmary. When Jadzia Dax suddenly strolled into his office looking for him. “Well good evening, Julian. Got a minute?”

 

“No. Go away Dax. I’m in no mood for one of your lectures nor do I feel like running through a postmortem of last night’s events.” Julian was still very much out of sorts and had been trying hard not to take it out on anyone while he was on duty.

 

“Geeze, fine. What crawled up your backside? What’s the matter? Still hung over?” Dax pressed trying to tease him into a better mood.

 

“I told you I don’t want to talk about it.” Julian insisted more firmly.

 

“Well then. Is Dr. Ore around? I’m planning a dinner party set a few days from now and wanted to invite him. You're invited too if you can manage to behave yourself.” Jadzia muttered.

 

“I encouraged him to take the day off. He wasn’t feeling very well.” Julian said as he focused on his datapad.

 

Dax narrowed her eyes at Julian’s tone but didn’t press him further.

 

After a few minutes of watching him ignore her, Julian finally sighed and put down his pad so that he could rub at his face.

 

“Seriously, Julian how did things really go last night?” Considering that it had been her idea for Julian to engage the other doctor, she felt she had a small right to know how everything had gone.

 

“We had dinner and talked. You were right that Gaven's very willing to be candid when someone allowed to know things asks him about himself. He didn’t tell me everything, but I do feel as If I understand him a little better now. He’s a sensitive man, and I think it can be safely said that none of us really know the extent of what he’s been through.” Julian knew this much he could afford to share with Dax.

 

“Are you worried about him?” She gently asked.

 

“Yes, though I’d prefer not to go crazy over it and run to the Captain just yet. It's clear to me now that he’s in profound mourning.” Julian had logically suspected as much but having seen it firsthand had shaken him especially given that he wasn’t sure which aspects of Gaven’s history haunted him the most.

 

“What can we do for him, in your opinion?” Jadzia inquired.

 

“It’s hard to say. The grieving process is unique to everyone, and Gaven's got quite a lot to be upset about. He may never fully heal from his experiences. All anyone can do is try to be supportive and available to him if and when he decides to reach out. In the meantime, you and I can help him by figuring out this damn radiation business. We need to find a way to create poly radiation treatments or the lack of exposure over time will kill him.” Whenever Julian didn’t have the answer to one question, he switched to another that would hopefully prove to be more easily solved.

 

“Dr. Oum must be able to contain it; otherwise, he would be a walking radioactive hotspot and people would become sick. If his tissues can contain it, then our only problem is to get the poly radiation into him. In theory, once it was absorbed his biology would render the radiation benign, I would think.” Jadzia observed.

 

“It seems the Oum wanted him to die in space. But you’d think that if the poly radiation is derived from their sun then putting him in orbit around the planet would have only killed him assuming the tomb lacked an environmental life support system and rations. To kill him through lack of exposure they would have had to dump him well out of range of the sun.” Julian reasoned.

 

“Does the data we have on hand say where the freighter picked him up? I find it hard to imagine the Vulcans would have traveled too near the Oum’s planet.” Jadzia asked.

 

“I don’t know for sure. I suppose we’d have to run it by the Captain or Doctor Ore himself since we can only look at the fabricated files Starfleet has on record.” Julian mused.

 

“What are you thinking?” Jadzia asked.

 

“Well, there seem to be a few plausible possibilities. It's possible that the Oum is space capable and jettisoned the craft out of the system. Another possibility is that they kept him close to the planet and the freighter just happened to be traveling in the region, picked up on his distress and rescued him. Vulcan’s are more resilient to standard radiation so it's possible they could be just as resistant to poly radiation and that this would make it possible for them to travel through the system without any major adverse effects. In any case, Dr. Ore insists the Vulcan’s rescued him and I do believe him. I must admit though that I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on remnants of whatever it was they found him in.” Julian said.

 

“Why?” Jadzia asked.

 

“I want to see if they perhaps put him in something that shielded him from the poly radiation. When he mentioned the craft, he was floating in Gaven called it his Tomb. I’ve been wondering if he meant that more literally than not. Something about the Oum believing in honorable suicide over murder.” Julian said.

 

“Speaking of customs, Doctor Ore has given the Captain permission to release the data Gaven transcribes about the Oum to us for personal study. He told me he coded it to read like a series of speculative novels. I suppose to ensure no one linked the data back to the actual planet or him. We’re supposed to get them during our briefing tomorrow. The information might help us.” Jadzia informed him.

 

“I’m sure we’ll find it all riveting,” Julian muttered.

Chapter 5: A Little Light Reading

Chapter Text

Chapter Five: A Little Light Reading

 

            The next day it was time for a progress briefing involving the senior staff and Gaven.

 

Julian had considered walking to the good doctor’s quarters early and asking if Gaven wanted to walk to the briefing together but thought better of it. He didn’t want to make the Doctor feel as if Julian was checking up on him. Julian wasn’t the first to arrive or the last. Doctor Ore had gotten there before anyone, likely so that he could privately conference with Sisko before everyone else arrived.

 

“Good morning everyone. Let us take our seats and get started.” Sisko folded his hands atop the table. “Where are we on the poly radiation studies?”

 

“All radiation contains energy that is carried by particle waves or streams.” Dax began. “The reason it can be damaging is due to its ability to harm organic matter by penetrating through the cell wall where it then damages the natural programming of DNA.”

 

“For example, when we used to treat human cancers with radiation therapy the idea was to damage the cancerous cells and destroy their ability to divide and grow,” Julian added. “Thus, killing the cancer cells.”

 

“But Poly radiation is unique in the sense that while it has stereotypical effects on organic tissues, it can also directly disrupt as well as enhance cellular growth. Increasing the rapid development of deformities and genetic defects secondary to selective cellular stimulation.” Jadzia continued despite the confused look of Miles and the stoic looks of both Worf and Odo.

 

“To put it simply, it can both shut down cellular development and enhance it, sometimes simultaneously. The Oum have adapted to this effect making it more consistent from individual to individual limiting it to one or the other. Either impairing natural development or enhancing it case by case. In many species not used to high exposure, the effects are accelerated causing spontaneous mutation over a short period or simply shutting down the body entirely. It’s not fatal to everyone and ships can be equipped to shield their riders allowing movement in the sun’s area.” Gaven clarified.

 

“We could calibrate a force Field to isolate poly radiation internally on a ship if we wanted to flush out an area. But we’d have to be able to get people we wouldn’t want to be effected out of the containment zone.” O'Brien.

 

“What if we think smaller?” Kira offered. “Couldn’t we contain small samples and come up with some kind of incapacitating hypo injection?”

 

“It's plausible, but if we’re wrong and we introduce the wrong dosage in a subject, it could kill them,” Julian added.

 

“You said the radiation wouldn’t kill in all cases. Can you elaborate, Doctor?” Sisko asked.

 

“Species that have greater control over their biological impulses such as Vulcans could internally regulate the effects of the radiation in the short term even with high-level exposure. There are also species like the Changelings who are generally immune to the effects of the radiation but that have other sensitivities that impair them in damaging ways. Changelings, for example, can tolerate the radiation itself but lose the ability to form organized shapes with prolonged exposure after just a few days. The Oum don’t know if this effect is permanent, but it doesn’t appear to be life-threatening just limiting.” Gaven explained.

 

“What if we attack the issue a different way. You said, Doctor, that your people have developed ways to make the radiation’s effects more consistent and Doctor Bashir tells me that the Oum can render the radiation benign. Could we develop an injection to protect those exposed if poly radiation were to be released in a confined space?” Sisko asked.

 

“That’s more realistic, but I would think that it would have to be calibrated uniquely for every individual species and mixed individual you wanted to inoculate,” Julian said.

 

“You’d also need compatible samples of saturated tissue from someone with the kind of regulation you want,” Gaven added.

 

“But it could be done?” Worf pressed.

 

“Yes. It could be done.” Gaven had that look on his face he got when confirming the validity of something he wasn’t personally comfortable with.

 

“Well, then I guess we’ve discovered everyone's homework for the foreseeable future. Dax, I want you to double team with Chief O'Brien to get a force Field calibrated for testing. Worf and Odo can work on the way to outfit and equip our security teams. Meanwhile, Kira is with me. As for you, Doctor Bashir, I think you know what we need from you.” Sisko said. “Dr. Oum. Did you have something to add?”

 

“Right. To hopefully help all of you with your future progress I’ve compiled a comprehensive collection of data about the Oum, their culture, world, philosophies, history, scientific advancements, etc. For my protection and because this information hasn’t been made public outside of high members within the federation, it has been formatted into fictional volumes that are of course not really fiction. I’ve taken the liberty to tailor your copies to reflect information that would be most relevant to you individually; however, you are welcome to explore as much of the collection as you like. I ask only that you keep your copies to yourselves and each other and that you do not release them to anyone. That’s all I have to say.” Gaven finished and sat back down while Sisko began passing out the data tablets.

 

“There’s got to be thousands of pages here…” O'Brien muttered both impressed and surprised. “Is it true that you transcribed all of this from memory?”

 

“Yes. Though I admit, it's not complete I could only document what I’d seen, read, heard and personally experienced first or second hand on Oum in my lifetime. There’s still much that could be said, as is with any planet and people.” Gaven remarked somberly. “You don’t have to read it all, and there’s an abbreviated version for those of you who would rather skim.”

 

“Well, if no one else has anything to add then we’ll adjourn. I would just like to remind everyone that the information Doctor Ore is providing for us is restricted. Please be mindful of when and where you discuss the information and recall that Doctor Ore’s life could be at risk because of the information he has shared. Dismissed.”

 

Before anyone else had time to stand and leave, Gaven quietly and curtly dismissed himself and departed swiftly saying nothing further and making no eye contact with anyone besides the door.

 

Both Kira and Dax watched him leave, while Bashir stared at a speck on the table. The others except for Sisko who was watching the entire room; we're looking through their data books.

 

“You know…Call me crazy, but was I the only one here that picked up on the fact Doctor Ore doesn’t seem happy about any of this?” Kira asked critically to the remaining group.

 

“Yes, thank you,” Jadzia muttered her eyes going wide with emphasis. “Don’t mistake me, I’m dying to know more about the Oum, and I understand why this information is important, but I can’t help but feel we’re violating something here.”

 

“I suppose one could argue that by reading any or all of these we might develop biased impressions about the Oum that could extend to Doctor Ore as well.” Odo offered gravely. “And the Oum are isolationists, so we have no real way of knowing what’s actually true and what isn’t. I like the doctor, but we should still tread cautiously. In terms of the Federation, he’s been very cooperative, but that doesn’t mean everything being shared is correct.”

 

“I don’t think he’s playing anyone. The Federation has the man over a barrel, and he essentially has no choice but to help or risk not cooperating and being forced against his will to contribute. You all do realize that since we don’t have access to anyone else like Doctor Ore, that in order to develop an injection that’s even half effective we’d have to use tissue samples from Doctor Ore himself.” Julian pointed out unhappily.

 

“It's true that Doctor Ore is in a delicate position with the Federation. I hear your concerns and want to assure you this is well-covered ground. So far as this information is concerned, Doctor Ore has expressed to me that he wants someone to know who he is and where he came from. I can appreciate a person wanting their life to mean something, and he knows that for better or worse the work he’s doing with and for us will give his life the meaning he wants.” Sisko said reassuringly.

 

“So, he wants us to read these?” O’Brien asserted. “Well, if it helps me understand even half of a way to push back against the Dominion, then I’m happy to oblige him.”

 

~@~

 

Later that day Jadzia, Miles, Kira, and Julian settled in at Quark’s for drinks. All of them had had grueling shifts wrought with problems, and it was rare that they were all off duty at the same time.

 

“Can you believe it? One little faulty duct in the horticulture lab and six dozen people come down with food poisoning over some bad lettuce.” Miles had spent nearly ten hours personally trying to fix the problem while Julian was slammed by the sick and Kira was whisked away by a worried Keiko and practically held hostage until the source of the sickness had been found.

 

“At least you got to work today. All I did was sit around your quarters being hovered over. Not that I didn’t appreciate the concern.” Kira remarked with equal parts annoyance and gratitude.

 

“Nobody gets to complain about their day in front of me. If I never see another Lurian with multiple stomach flu again. It’ll still be too soon.” Julian muttered.

 

Of any of them, the doctor looked the most frazzled by his day.

 

“You win.” The other three muttered in unison before the ones capable of drinking pulled their glasses back.

 

“So have you guys…Ya know…” Always a gossip hound, Jadzia wiggled her brows as her eyes went wide. She was referring of course to the data books they’d all received that morning.

 

“I have. I mean, what else was I going to do all day since no one would let me do any other work.” Kira replied.

 

“And?” Jadzia wanted to discuss it.

 

“And I don’t think we should be talking about this here,” Julian interjected as he put on his best scolding professional face.

 

“How is the good doctor, today anyway? He ran out of the meeting so quickly this morning. I didn’t know what to make of him.” Miles asked to change the subject.

 

“Busy. Gaven got all of the regular load in the infirmary that I didn’t have time to handle. He left about the same time I did.” Julian said.

 

“I think he’s on a date this evening.” Jadzia speculated.

 

“A date? With whom?” Miles asked. He was finding it difficult to imagine a man like Gaven doing any such thing.

 

“An alien woman who’s been visiting the station. I haven’t had the pleasure of an introduction, but it would seem our Doctor Ore is getting to know her pretty well. It's the fourth time I’ve seen him with her in the Promenade. Don’t look but he’s sitting with her right now on the second floor.” Jadzia gently indicated with a knowing smile on her face to a spot several feet behind and above Miles.

 

Miles was polite enough not to turn his head, and Jadzia and Kira didn’t have to because they were facing the right direction and needed only to look up. Julian, however, did turn his head to look up at them and wasn’t surprised to see Gaven sitting remarkably close to the woman with one hand holding her upper arm as he seemed to make slow, small talk making signs with his other hand and looking relaxed and pleasant.

 

“I doubt that’s what you think it is, Dax.” Julian muttered as he pulled his eyes away feeling suddenly annoyed by what he saw.

 

“Well, whatever it is he looks a Hell of a lot happier just now then I’ve seen him,” Kira noted. “Maybe he’s made a friend.”

 

“Are you all daft? This Ore fellow is a person, you know. I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate everyone gossiping about him every five minutes. I thought we were here to relax? Come on, Julian. Let's get in a few games of darts. I’ve still got my wife to get home to yet.” Miles muttered, feeling as if they were all children again making googly eyes at the new boy in class.

 

“I second that notion,” Julian muttered. “Ado, ladies. You can join us if you like.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Kira replied as she leaned back in her chair and reminded everyone that the last thing she wanted to do in her condition was to stand around throwing things.

 

Everyone laughed as the foursome split up into pairs.

 

Once the men had left Kira narrowed her eyes knowingly at Jadzia. “Since the men are otherwise disposed of, want to come back to my place and do a little light reading?”

 

“You read my mind. Let me call Worf and tell him not to wait up.” Jadzia replied.

 

Half an hour later Jadzia and Kira were enjoying a well-deserved girl’s night in Kira’s quarters.

 

“So which parts did Doctor Ore organize for you?” Kira asked as she lounged on one of her sofa’s while Dax leaned against it while sitting on the floor.

 

“Doctor Ore sent me the sections he transcribed that cover the Oum’s limited contact with other species and their early historical attempts at space travel. It includes a lot about the planet’s ecology, and planetary make up. There’s also an extensive amount on the planet’s flora, fauna, and animal life and a large section regarding the city Doctor Ore lived in and other notable landmarks. You?” Jadzia asked.

 

“Sections on the socio-political atmosphere and some of the cultural elements.” Kira sighed. “Frankly, I’m finding it all hard to wrap my head around. The literature implies the Oum has been around for hundreds of thousands of years. All that culture and progress and all this time practically no one knew they were there.”

 

“You want to know what I’ve realized more than anything else?” Kira asked.

 

“What?” Jadzia said.

 

“According to what I’ve read so far and been able to surmise. By Oum standards, Doctor Ore is a criminal. I mean a big one. Never mind whether we’re skirting the Federation’s Prime Directive, here. Doctor Ore has blatantly gone out of his way to commit the biggest cultural betrayal possible. His very existence here has defied every effort his people have made in the last ten thousand years to remain isolated and apart from the rest of the universe. He’s a traitor, and yet we’re treating him like…”

 

“Our lives depend on him?” Jadzia offered.

 

“Yeah.” Kira agreed. “I don’t really know what to make of it. I mean it should matter, shouldn’t it? And yet, it’s almost like it doesn’t matter at all.”

 

“Want to know what I don’t understand? Everything you just said is true. He is a traitor to his people. But he only became one after they exiled him off the planet. None of it would have ever occurred if they’d kept him on their world. He had to have done something else that upset his people, first. The rest feels almost like retaliation on his part.” Jadzia speculated.

 

“There’s a lot in here. I mean I’ve been reading these all day, and I’ve barely scratched the surface. The Oum is a staunchly organized culture. Highly advanced. And yet there are elements in their culture that feel appalling. They have a complex social order, with people like Doctor Ore at the bottom. He’s worded it very carefully and respectfully but what he’s implying is that people like him are like…Like slaves. They're not allowed to hold any societal rank, and they're owned like property. Bought and sold to whoever can afford them. Treated aesthetically less than their counterparts who fit more traditional expectations of appearance and ability.” Kira said empathetically, no doubt drawing emotional comparisons between the none-mutated Oum’s role to how the Cardassians had treated the Bajoran's during the Occupation of Bajor.

 

“Maybe he’s justified then.” Jadzia offered.

 

“The heartbreaking part is that it seems noticeably clear that, given his way, Doctor Ore would have never left his homeworld. He misses his people and mourns not being a part of them anymore. I feel bad for him.” Kira admitted.

 

“I think we all do, Kira. To some degree or another. How could anyone not relate in some way? No matter what he’s done, I feel as if at the end of it he’s a good man. We may never know the exact reason he was expelled from Oum; but I want to believe the reason, no matter how outrageous in his own people's minds, is something most of us wouldn’t consider being criminal behavior. Since the Oum has expelled him, I would think he’s no longer subject to their laws, though I would imagine it must be difficult for him to let go of his people's customs.” Jadzia said.

 

“In any case, I can understand his fascination for others outside of himself. Reminds me a little bit of Odo, actually.” Kira smiled at the thought.

 

“That it does.” Jadzia agreed. “Look how well Odo’s time from his people has turned out.”

 

~@~

 

The next few days on the station passed without any notable activity. Everyone seemed inclined to stick to their work and the free time of the senior officers was consumed with a great deal of private reading about subjects they weren’t allowed to discuss openly. In this time Julian and Gaven stayed away from each other, or at least it seemed as if they rarely had any reason to cross paths during their workday. Though no one else would have guessed, Julian couldn’t help but feel as if the other Doctor was actively ignoring him and trying to keep himself away. As for Julian’s part, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about it. On the upside, Gaven did seem noticeably lighter in recent days. He was quicker to smile although he still talked sparingly, and people saw him out and about more. Either walking through the promenade or sitting in a more private part of Quark’s either alone or occasionally with the Red alien woman some suspected he had taken a more personal interest in. All in all, Julian was pleased by all this. But a part of him still felt like he was being shut out.

 

Finally, after fourteen days of little to no contact and after absorbing about half of what Gaven had organized for them to read Julian decided it was high time to break the silence between them. Under the guise of following up with Gaven as a patient, Julian went to see him once more in his quarters since Gaven had been in and out of the infirmary too much for Julian to find enough time to speak to him while he was working.

 

Julian’s unexpected visit caught the other doctor in the middle of what appeared to be him packing.

 

“Hello, Doctor. Was there something I could help you with?” Gaven asked nonchalantly upon letting Julian into his quarters.

 

“Well, I just, um, excuse me; may I ask? Are you going somewhere?” Julian hadn’t been sure what he was going to say to Gaven when he arrived, but now he found himself entirely distracted by the apparent fact that the other man looked to be packing for a trip.

 

“Yes. I’ve asked permission from the Captain to take a few weeks to travel to Gulba IV. It's not a Federation planet, but its people are in open talks with the federation about being allowed to apply. That’s what the Gulba emissary was here for, she was planning to meet with a Starfleet delegation nearby to discuss the matter. She’s ready to return to her, but she grew concerned that her child would become ill again on the journey. I’ve offered to act as her Gulm Jabib; her attendant in case the child becomes ill again in transit. I outlined all of this in writing for you two days ago. Didn’t you notice it?” Gaven asked genuinely surprised.

 

It took Julian longer than it should have to realize Gaven was referring to the tall red alien that had brought its offspring into the infirmary awhile back. “No. I must have missed it. You do realize, Captain’s approval or not; I have to agree that you’re medically fit to go on such an extended trip especially if you plan to let that child hang attached to you the entire time.” Julian muttered in that suspicious tone he got when he felt like someone was trying to pull something on him.

 

“Yes. Why do you think I outlined the mission for you and left it on your desk for approval?” Gaven pointed out. “I would have almost thought you came by to give me a physical if it weren’t for the fact that you could have done it just as easily in the infirmary.”

 

Julian detected that Gaven was intentionally trying to sound coy and he wasn’t amused by it. “Well as long as I stopped by let's have at it, shall we?”

 

“As you like, doctor.” Gaven put his folded shirt down and opened his arms palms out facing towards Julian.

 

Digging his medical tricorder out and a few other gadgets from the med bag he always carried with him, Julian got to work recording the man’s vitals.

 

“Right. Any numbness in the limbs, muscle weakness or unusual fatigue?” He began.

 

“No,” Gaven responded.

 

“Diet the same? Activity level?” He pressed.

 

“No changes, average activity.” Gaven continued.

 

“Have you felt depressed, hopeless, or had any thoughts of hurting yourself or others in the last thirty days?” Julian challenged.

 

“I’ve been sad, unhappy, but not suicidal. Lately, I’ve felt better compared to when I first arrived. Useful. Optimistic, even.” Gaven admitted.

 

Julian paused for a moment in anticipation for what he was about to ask next.

 

“What about the nightmares?” Julian asked, steeling himself for how Gaven might choose to answer.

 

For Gaven’s part, he knew he couldn’t lie. Had Julian not caught him in the middle of one of his nightly episodes he might have tried but he knew he couldn’t avoid the issue now and he knew Julian had waited for some time wanting to talk about it.

 

“There’s always going to be nightmares in the night for me, Doctor. My losses are great, and I can’t deny I feel the memory of them keenly all the time. But I need you to trust me when I say I have it under control.” Gaven spoke with authority now looking straight into Julian’s eyes to prove he wasn’t ashamed even if a vulnerable part of him had been exposed.

 

“I don’t like the idea of you leaving the station,” Julian said bluntly. “But if you promise me you’ll allow me to arrange a treatment plan to confront your night terrors and other traumatic experiences I’ll sign off with my approval.”

 

“No.” Gaven sad just as bluntly.

 

“No?” Julian’s brow raised the way it might as if he was dealing with a surprisingly defiant child.

 

“I’m not going to allow you to use something private about me as a bargaining chip, Julian,” Gaven said evenly. “If you want to use my mental state as a justification for why I shouldn’t be allowed to go on this trip then write it into a report, submit it, and then argue it with the Captain after; but don’t you ever try to blackmail me. I’m not a Starfleet officer or your subordinate. I will deal with my grief and anything else disturbing to me in accordance with my cultural traditions and my conviction. Do you understand?”

 

“Just what are those cultural traditions and disturbing things?” Julian demanded growing cross at the notion of being accused by Gaven of overstepping his authority. “I didn’t need to be there that morning to know you’re in unspeakable pain and that it affects every facet of your life. Do you think I’m the only one that can see it? We can all feel how acutely you’re suffering. Everyone leaves you alone with it because no one wants to pry into your private life. Don’t you see I can’t do that? That as a doctor and a compassionate human being I have to take notice and try to do something about it? If you genuinely have a better method than I do at helping you cope with your experiences, then fine. But either you’re not utilizing those methods, or they’re not working, and in any case, it worries me that your so damn intent upon holding onto it all so tightly.”

 

“What do you know about any of it, Doctor?” Gaven asked sternly. “You hardly know what my experiences have been or how the Oum’s emotional processing works. So you have a bit more insight into my private life. It certainly wasn’t something I wanted you to see, and if I’d had any good sense at all, you wouldn’t have. Oh, and since we’re on the subject of things you don’t seem to understand, allow me to enlighten you. All I’ve done since encountering other cultures is being shoved around, interrogated, prodded at, and held against my will. So far I’ve expended a great deal of patience to everyone regarding the business but mark me when I say that my patience has its limits. I would almost prefer that the Federation and everyone else treat me like a proper prisoner than this backhanded hospitality I'm spoon fed. Don’t think for one second that it hasn’t occurred to me that my rights such as they are here and now are an illusion. As a refugee, I don’t have any rights. I have become a pawn, caught up in a war of worlds that I have nothing personally to do with. Don’t you see, this trip is an opportunity for me to do something for myself?”

 

Julian didn’t say anything for a while. For the first time, it occurred to him that Gaven was caught up in a strange kind of game that felt wrong to him somehow. Julian could well imagine that the Federation was using him and that everything Gaven had just related was likely correct. While Julian felt as if something was terribly wrong with the entire situation, he found he didn’t have enough hard information to fully understand the scope of Gaven’s position or what could and couldn’t be done about it.

 

“You know,” Julian said at length. “It’s often really hard for me to remember that you’re not actually human.”

 

“I know. Would it help if I had a tail?” Gaven quipped suddenly, effectively starting to break up the tension between them.

 

“It just might,” Julian muttered only half joking. “Mind if I sit for a second?”

 

Gaven nodded and indicated to a nearby chair while they both took a few minutes to calm down.

 

“Can I ask you something? Why are you really doing any of this?” Julian asked. “At some point, you must have had a choice.”

 

“I suppose you’re wondering why I didn’t just keep to myself when I got rescued?” Gaven said as he resumed his packing. “Looking back, I wish I had. Anonymity seems to be a significant form of protection among most people, I’ve discovered. Maybe, I may have been more protective of myself if the Vulcan’s hadn’t found me first. Their unique telepathic abilities saved my life and left me exposed.” Gaven explained.

 

“Did you mind meld with one of them?” Julian was back in his information gathering Doctoring mode.

 

“Yes.” Gaven nodded. “The experience was…Unique. Though in some ways similar to my own people’s sharing abilities. The Vulcan’s were cautious with me after that and did everything in their power to bring me back into myself. For a while, they thought it better that I remain in stasis until I sufficiently healed here.”

 

Gaven tapped at his temple with one finger.

 

“Unfortunately, I was forced out of stasis when the freighter I was on ran into a bit of trouble,” Gaven said grimly.

 

“Yes. You mentioned something about that.” Julian muttered.

 

“The freighter was on the edge of the Delta quadrant when they received my summoning. They didn’t have to investigate, but they obviously felt that it was of some importance that they did. Oum is located near the quadrant border. Once I was retrieved, they made a new route to the closest Vulcan star base intending to pass me on were decided if it would be prudent to bring me directly to Vulcan. But the freighter was interrupted in route by a Breen ship that decided to engage them.” Gaven explained.

 

Julian visibly shuddered at the mentioning of the Breen.

 

“I do not doubt that the Breen intended to destroy the freighter outright until their scans picked up my signature. After that the Breen immediately disengaged.” Gaven said.

 

“Why?” Julian wrinkled his nose.

 

“The Dominion has a no-contact agreement with my species. Once the Breen identified what I was, they had no choice but to disengage.” Finished with his packing for the moment, Gaven finally sat as well.

 

“Unbelievable,” Julian said shaking his head.

 

“When I got to Vulcan there was a Federation representative already there to meet me. At least that was the belief. I was familiar by then with your species. So far as the Vulcan database would allow. It's interesting how they write about humans by the way.” Gaven remarked. “At any rate, I was given a choice to stay with the Vulcans or go with Starfleet. I agreed to go with the representative, a mistake in hindsight.” Gaven’s voice trailed off slightly, and he briefly broke eye contact with Julian indicating he didn’t like thinking about whatever it was his story was reminding him of.

 

“What happened?” Julian had a horrible feeling suddenly.

 

“Whoever the man was, he wasn’t a Starfleet representative. Though I was made to believe as were the Vulcans that he was. At some point, I was subdued against my will and taken off planet. I was then promptly held against my will and interrogated.” Gaven said his tone and expression implying that the “interrogation” he’d undergone had been violent.

 

“But I thought Starfleet transitioned you directly from the Vulcan homeworld to Deep Space Nine?” Julian asked confused.

 

“An inconvenient but necessary lie,” Gaven admitted. “What’s true is I was on a Vulcan freighter and in Stasis for three months. Then the Breen attacked. We spent another several months trying to get back to Vulcan. When we did, I was only there a few days before I was kidnapped. My assailant kept me for months more before he deemed me benign. I was then returned to Vulcan like nothing had happened. I didn’t take it well and became defiant after that point. Only then was I released into Starfleet’s custody for psychiatric treatment. My abduction up to that point was…Overlooked. Once in Starfleet's custody, I knew I had to protect my interests but by then there was little recourse for me but defiance. My abduction eventually generated much renewed interest, and it was determined that my knowledge and abilities might prove useful to someone after all. So, I was persuaded to come here. As for my abduction and interrogation, I can’t prove who was responsible, Julian. But it’s become clear to me that someone enormously powerful and human is keeping tabs on me and my only hope of real freedom someday is to make sure they are not the only ones keeping those tabs.”

 

“Unbelievable.” Julian’s mind reeled at the prospect that Dr. Gaven Ore was quite possibly at the center of a true-blue spy game. “Does the Captain have any idea about any of this?”

 

“Yes. He was the one recruited by Starfleet to persuade me to come here. He has agreed to monitor the situation. Deep Space Nine may prove to be the closest thing to a true refuge I have. However, I am a scientist. I can’t ignore my natural leanings towards personal discovery. If I’m going to be at the beckoning and call of Starfleet, then I am at least going to press my advantages where I find them. I’m personally extremely interested in the people of Gulba IV. If it proves suitable, I might make the world my home someday if I live that long. Do you understand now, Julian?”

 

“About your trip? Yes. About everything else…” Julian widened his eyes and held his breath.

 

“Please don’t share what I’ve told you about my situation. It’s imperative no one else knows.” Gaven said.

 

“Right, right. My lips are sealed. And anyway, it's so convoluted who would believe me if I said anything?” Julian said sardonically.

 

Gaven’s mouth turned up, but it wasn’t a genuine smile. “Oh, I’d bet that you’d be surprised.”

 

Chapter 6: Departures and Returns

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Six: Departures and Returns

 

There wasn’t much fan fair the next morning when Gaven prepared to depart for Gulba IV. Captain Sisko had wanted to keep a low profile though Kira, Jadzia, and Julian did drop by to see him off near the transport.

 

“Come back to us soon. OK? This baby may need an unbiased referee considering the number of people that are going to be involved.” Kira quipped taking Gaven by the hands and squeezing them supportively since she felt too uncomfortable in her body to go in for a hug.

 

“You owe me a fancy dinner party when you come back,” Jadzia muttered in the casual joking way she was known for that had a slight edge of seriousness to it. “Travel safe.”

 

Gaven was smart enough to let Dax hug him whether he wanted to be embraced or not.

 

“Kira’s right, we’ve been spoiled having a second doctor on the station with such good bedside manner. Once our regulars find out you're gone, I won’t hear the end of it.” Julian tried to sound casual but failed somewhat. He still felt uncomfortable letting Gaven leave the station.

 

“I promise I’ll be back as quickly as I can. It seems I would risk disappointing several people if I overstayed my time. In any case, I must make sure this little girl gets back home safe and sound. She’s going to be her people’s destined leader when she’s done growing.” Gaven said with a proud kind of tonality that spoke of a thick sort of intimacy between himself and the alien child who had been clinging to him while he said his goodbyes.

 

Kira and Jadzia exchanged glances with each other that expressed their surprise. While they had both been aware the Alien woman was on the station to start negotiations about entry into the Federation of planets; no one had realized that the child was an active and essential part of the delegation. They were also both caught off guard by the level of connection Gaven felt towards the Gulbians even though Jadzia had been implying for weeks that he was developing in intimate rapport with one of them.

 

“Do you ladies mind if I speak to the Doctor alone for a few moments?” Gaven politely asked.

 

“Sure.”

 

“Of Course.”

 

Jadzia and Kira said at the same time overlapping each other.

 

Both women stiffened, and Kira nodded indicating Jadzia could go ahead and speak for them both. “We’ll have a coming home party for you when you get back. Take care of yourself, Doctor Ore.”

 

“We’ll just be over here, Julian.” Kira said in an amused fashion at their display. Both women then quickly backed off.

 

“You know, sometimes I think those two gush like school girls about you when we’re not around.” Julian theorized.

 

“Really? I would have thought they wouldn’t hold back on our account, Doctor.” Gaven dryly quipped as he adjusted the child more comfortably on his hip.

 

“I don’t think I need to remind you that I don’t approve of this. You’re not well, Gaven. Having that child latched to you for the duration of the trip to Gulba IV could seriously speed the disintegration of your physical health by months. And, frankly, I don’t know if I can figure out an adequate treatment for you if you are not on the station for me to examine and test things on. I know the Captain has given his blessing, but I’m speaking as your doctor and hopefully your friend when I say that I’m seriously concerned for you.” Julian said in a quiet pressing tone.

 

“You’re just going to have to trust in me, Doctor. And have faith in yourself. Sometimes some things are more important than one's physical well-being. This trip, as far as you and I know is not going to kill me. This isn’t some feeble attempt to run away this time. This is me exerting my freedom and doing what’s right. I need this mission, Julian. This may be the only thing I do that is of my own desire and free choice. Plus, I believe this trip will help me in other ways I can’t explain to you right now. I know you don’t approve, and your reasons are sound, but do me the small favor of pretending like everything is going to be fine and you’re going to pull off an extravagant miracle of modern science while I’m gone like you seem to do so often. I know if you put your mind to it, you’ll make significant strides in your efforts and you’ll make it look a lot harder to pull off than it actually is for someone like you or me.” Gaven said in an equally low tone of voice that, by the end, caused Julian to stiffen visibly despite his usual ability to hide it when he realized someone genuinely saw something about him that he did not want them to see.

 

At that, the alien emissary put her hand on Gaven’s side and gently led him away so that he missed the bulk of Julian’s internal reaction to the end of what he’d said to him.

 

“I don’t have a good feeling,” Julian muttered to himself as he dragged himself into an about-face and forced himself to walk in the other direction towards where Kira and Dax had moved away.

 

Julian realized Gaven had made him feel exposed. Though he didn’t dare reveal his disquiet in any visible way outside of what appeared to be a general concern for the good doctor’s safety. It was unnerving how easily and frequently Gaven achieved this around him. Even Garak who was famously perceptive had not caught on to Julian's secrets. Gaven though seemed to notice what the others did not about him, and it made Julian wonder sometimes about how much Gaven saw and suspected about Julian’s nature.

~@~

 

In the several weeks Gaven was gone from Deep Space Nine, several significant things happened.

 

[1]Sisko, Odo, Dax, and Garak were accidentally caught up in an involuntary attempt by Odo’s mind to “link” causing them to get an all too real glimpse of the Cardassian’s occupation of Bajor.

 

[2]In another incident, Odo and Quark had nearly died of exposure when they crashed landed on a desolate planet.

 

[3]And in another incident still, Captain Sisko began seeing visions warning against Bajor’s admittance into the Federation of Planets. The visions nearly killed him.

 

[4]Kira’s life was also put into jeopardy when she was abducted for her role in an incident that killed innocent Cardassians.

 

Of all these events, Gaven was excluded from and most everyone involved agreed that it was probably for the best that he had missed the various adventures. His own business on Gulba IV was as mysterious and unknown to those on Deep Space Nine as their antics were to him. Gaven’s personal experiences were also less dramatic though possibly just as impactive, and when it was time to return to Deep Space Nine, Gaven was sad to go but also purposeful in his departure.

 

His return was no less comfortable than any of the other’s experiences had been. Julian’s predictions about his health deteriorating had come true, and when he finally stepped off the transport back onto the station, there could be no doubt that he was indeed ill.

 

If his general appearance wasn’t enough to prove it, the significant numbness in his left leg that was producing a pronounced limp said enough.

 

At the time of his arrival Jadzia and Dax where the only ones able to get away from their duties to meet him. While both were happy that he had returned they were stunned by how he looked. One was just more diplomatic about it than the other.

 

“What in the Hell? What have you been doing on Gulba IV, Gaven? You look like you should be on a med cart!” Jadzia disapprovingly proclaimed as she exchanged shocked looks with Kira and rushed forward.

 

Kira might have liked to come along with her, but her tummy was keeping her at a slower idle.

 

“You do look a little worse for the ware, doctor. Julian is going to kill you.” Kira muttered.

 

“Yeah right, like he doesn’t look half gone already!” Dax blurted.

 

“Peace, ladies. As you can see, I’m still vertical so don’t write me off completely.” While he may have looked terrible, there was a notable sense of ease in Gaven’s manner and tone that hadn’t been there before. He seemed almost rested despite his emaciated and haggard state.

 

“We’re glad your back Dr. Ore,” Kira said warmly giving the man aside hug since she was too big around to come at him from the front.

 

Though she didn’t say anything, Kira felt the man briefly weigh her down more than usual. He was weaker than he looked she realized, though since he was still standing, she thought it better not to draw attention to this fact.

 

“And how is baby doing? Still enjoying itself, I see. I’m happy I got back in time. I was looking forward to being here for the birth. It’ll be my first one outside my planet. You will allow me the honor of assisting in whatever way I can, won't you?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Are you kidding? I’m going to need a referee when this baby is ready to arrive. I am glad your back Doctor. Come on. Dax and I will walk you back to your rooms.”

 

“You will let me throw you a party when you're settled again. Won't you Doctor Ore?” Jadzia asked as they all walked together.

 

At this Kira gave Dax an exasperated look of disapproval and shook her head slightly.

 

Dax caught her expression and quickly corrected herself. “Oh. I mean. Nothing big or anything. Maybe just a little one. The stations pretty busy these days.”

 

“I’m sure I’ve missed a great many adventures. You all will have to fill me in.” Gaven said. ” Jadzia, I was wondering if you could see that the cargo I brought back makes it to the lab in the infirmary and that my report gets to the Captain. I think everyone will be pleased with the progress that’s been made, but I’ll talk about that later.”

 

Dax and Kira escorted Gaven as far as his quarters before he hugged them both and told them he’d speak to them in the morning to update the rest of the staff. The duo left him reluctantly to go about their various duties and secretly fret about him in their own ways.

 

When Kira and Dax were finally gone Gaven sighed heavily and shut his eyes. He was tired. It had taken a great deal of effort to walk to his quarters, and the trip back to Deep Space Nine had been uneventful but long. Indirect pain pulsed down one leg while the other ached with the strain of having to support more of his body weight. Limping over to his favorite sofa, Gaven fell into it more than sat and took a few moments to collect himself. Everything felt strained as if his immune system were running out of steam and might break down. For all his physical troubles Gaven felt happy for the first time in recent memory. He felt less haunted and more like his old self before his world had utterly fallen apart. He felt like he could be content now even if he failed to outlive his current situation.

 

~@~

 

Julian was analyzing radiation samples when a call came through for him.

 

“Hello, Dr. Bashir. It's Dr. Ore. I’ve returned to the station. If you could pull yourself away from your work for a while and drop by my quarters, I would be most appreciative. Ore, out.”

 

Julian was expecting to hear when Gaven returned to Deep Space Nine and immediately a satisfied grin came upon his face at the knowledge. Though there had been much to keep the doctor occupied, Julian had noticed a kind of subtle boredom creep into his world. He missed having Gaven around maybe because more than anyone else, to Julian, Gaven felt like an equal to him. Even a rival in some ways since it was true that in some things Gaven did indeed eclipse him.

 

With a jovial skip in his step, Julian put away his work and took off for the rest of the day under the guise of having a pre-meeting with Gaven before their staff briefing in the morning.

 

His happiness however at their reunion was short-lived because the second he arrived and Gaven let him in all the good feelings he was building evaporated at the sight of the gravely ill Dr. Ore.

 

“Gaven…Gaven, what happened?” Julian immediately went into triage mode moving to the other doctor's side and cradling the side of his jaw with his hand to better examine the man’s pupils while he fumbled through his medical bag resting on the coffee table. On instinct, Julian began to pull his hand away so that he could tap his comm badge and signal a medical emergency.

 

But before he could do so, Gaven gripped his lower arm and pulled it gently away from the comm badge. “It’s all right Julian. I’m stable, only tired. I promise I will let you hem and haw over my disintegrating health later. We have things to talk about.”

 

“Don’t be so difficult. What you need is to be in the infirmary. How bad is it?” Julian had gone into complete assessment mode as he took out his tricorder and ran some vitals.

 

“Weakness down the left side. Diminished fine motor function. General fatigue. Low appetite.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Pain?” Julian pressed as he tested the muscles that ran from Gaven’s hip to his shin. He couldn’t feel any noticeable atrophy, but it was only a matter of time if the weakness persisted.

 

“No,” Gaven said. “Not related to this anyway.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Did you maim yourself somewhere while you were away?” Julian demanded.

 

“Doctor, you really need to start reading the reports I send you. Here.” Gaven gingerly reached for his datapad and handed it to Julian.

 

Not even bothering to hide how quickly he could read; Julian skimmed the contents. “You did it. There are enough samples here to generate inoculations for almost all essential crew. You used your tissues.”

 

“That was what we agreed would need to happen.” Gaven remarked in that even way of his as he tired calm the waters of concern between them.

 

“But why not do it here on Deep Space Nine if you were serious about going to that extreme?” Julian asked.

 

“The facilities on Gulba IV were more than adequate, and besides, I wanted some privacy. I’ve had the samples taken to the lab so that we can work on them together.” Gaven almost looked pleased about the business.

 

“Where did you pull the samples from?” Julian already knew but waited for Gaven to tell him anyway.

 

“My skin, obviously. Mostly from the back and upper legs. Some of it is still healing.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Come on. Let's see.” Julian indicated for Gaven to turn and pull up his shirt.

 

Gaven braced himself for the impending outburst he knew was coming.

 

“Gaven, what the Hell is wrong with you? It doesn’t look like you used a regenerator on any of this. Don’t you realize the level of scarring that causes? Guh, of course you do. That’s probably why you didn’t use one unless the advancements on Gulba IV are really that inadequate. Some of this looks angry. You’re lucky you haven’t gotten a staph infection or worse by now. And what is that smirking expression about?” Julian said as he pressed his lips together and glared at the other doctor.

 

“Nothing. I’m sorry. You’re right.” Gaven tried to school his expression into something resembling remorse but failed.

 

“You think this is funny? You bloody alien. I’m done with trying to understand you today.” Julian rose out of his kneeling position and waved his hands dismissively while he stepped back into the room.

 

“I’m sorry.” Gaven chuckled lightly. “I know it's hard to understand, Julian. I just…I feel happy. Doing this has made me happy. I don’t know why. I feel better than I have in a long time. Relieved, even.”

 

“You feel like you’ve paid your pound of flesh, I suppose.” He muttered knowing full well Gaven probably wouldn’t get the reference.

 

“Penance of a dying man maybe,” Gaven said lightly though with a more serious edge.

 

Julian sighed and walked back towards Gaven before sitting down beside him. “You’re not a bad person, Gaven. I don’t care what went on when you were back on your home planet. You deserve a fulfilling and healthy life, and we’re going to find a way to help you. I promise.”

 

“Any progress with the poly radiation research?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Per your recommendations, we’ve calibrated one of the shuttles to resist the poly radiation, but further testing needs to be done to measure how effective the shielding will be. Until I can get my hands on something infused with the radiation, our best plan of action would be to inoculate a small research team and send them into your system to study the radiation firsthand.” Julian explained.

 

“I know you won’t let me drag you into the infirmary right now, but would you at least be willing to let me give you some vitamin injections and a pain reliever? After the briefing, I’d also like to take a closer look at that weakness in your leg. We can probably brace it for now so that you're not dragging yourself all over the place without support.” Julian negotiated.

 

It occurred to Julian that though the other doctor was resistant to being ordered about, he was usually willing to comply with most of Julian’s wishes if he worded it in the form of a question.

 

“Of course, Doctor.” Gaven said as he settled more into the sofa and was entering some information into his datapad.

 

Despite Gaven’s swiftly declining health, Julian noted with some satisfaction that he did seem much better psychologically than he’d been when he’d left. Perhaps, Julian admitted in his mind; it had been short-sighted of him to try and stop him from taking his trip. Whatever the cause of the man’s change of spirit, Julian was happy for him.

 

~@~

 

The next morning, everyone met again in the Captain’s briefing room to give their updates. Per Julian’s suggestion, Gaven had begun a strong vitamin regiment and was now sporting a subtle leg brace and a forearm crutch for extra support. Beyond that, he looked a little off color but better than he had compared to the previous day.

 

“Good morning everyone. Let's get right to it, shall we? We have a lot to catch Doctor Ore up on this morning. We’re all pleased that you’ve returned, Doctor.” Captain Sisko said warmly.

 

“Progress is being made on the force Field calibrations. We’re pretty much ready to configure a shuttle and give it a test run.” Dax said.

 

“The only problem is we have nothing to test it against,” Miles added. “If the planet Oum is on the border of the Delta quadrant it’ll take a while to send a team out there in the range of the solar system to try it firsthand. And of course, we also have to go out there without tipping anyone off to what we’re up to.”

 

“Perhaps we can compromise and reach out to the Vulcan's for assistance on the matter. They’ve been near the region before and may have data we can compare our own to regarding the shielding.”

 

“In the meantime, Doctor Ore and I are ready to move forward with developing a vaccination for those directly exposed to poly radiation in order to minimize it’s negative effects. It won’t work in all cases such as with long term exposure, but in short exposure periods, we have good reason to hope for the best. We’re going to need tissue samples from numerous individuals to test against the poly infused samples Gaven obtained for us. Senior staff should be first and then those working in essential station areas.” Julian said.

 

“As for further testing the poly radiation, the Vulcan’s may still have the container they found me in when they pulled me from space. Its external haul would be infused with poly radiation. If you’re certain we can create a containment barrier here on Deep Space Nine, then we can start preliminary testing once we have it. The artifact is technically mine so they may be willing to borrow it to us. Or a piece of it, at least.” Gaven proposed.

 

“Sounds like progress. Will you compile a list of Vulcans associated with you, doctor?” Sisko requested.

 

“I’m compiling it as we speak. There.” Gaven put down the datapad he’d been typing into.

 

“Good. I think everyone knows what your tasks are. Yes?” Sisko asked, glancing around the room.

 

Everyone nodded in agreement.

 

“Good. Let's get on this people. Meeting adjourned.” Sisko said with an air of excitement that everyone else also felt.

 

~@~

 

The rest of the day swiftly went on. Everyone was eager to get started on their projects because they saw how everything was beginning to take a tangible form. Word had come late in the day from the Vulcan representatives that they indeed still had the container they had found Gaven in and were comfortable with releasing it to Deep Space Nine with Gaven’s consent.

 

The remnants weren’t due to arrive for a few days, however, and so everyone focused on other tasks. Gaven also remained in his quarters at the request of Julian. Until they had enough volunteers, it seemed pointless to push the doctor to work more than he had to and for once Gaven didn’t argue with Julian about it.

 

Not surprisingly several of the station's officers dropped by to contribute their tissue samples so that Julian could at least get a small start on their project. Dax was one of the last to drop by.

 

 

“How’s it going so far?” Jadzia asked while she waited for Julian to finish taking the small tissue sample, he needed.

 

“Fine, considering how hush-hush we have to be about it. I have confidence we can make substantial progress in developing a vaccination. It has to be calibrated for everyone individually for now, but thankfully Deep Space Nine is one of the most diverse communities I’ve ever served on. It gives us an advantage in this case.” Julian said.

 

“I take it Doctor Ore provided the test tissue. That was…” Jadzia was cut off by Julian.

 

“Stupid. He didn’t need to go to that extreme. We could have done it gradually and far less invasively here on the station.” He complained.

 

“You seem upset about the situation. I would have thought you of all people would be excited.” Dax observed.

 

“Gaven’s health is unstable. As far as his time here goes on the station, I am his physician, and I would have never agreed with what he did to himself or the way he went about it.”

 

“Julian it had to be done,” Dax said reproachfully.

 

“Yes, yes. I know. I just wish Gaven hadn’t done it without me. I could have helped him, and maybe he wouldn’t have come out as worse for the wear. On some level he’s convinced he’s going to die over all this, maybe he’s even subconsciously trying to speed the inevitability along. I find it frustrating. I find him frustrating. I’ve never dealt with such a secret and stubborn man.” Julian lamented.

 

“At least he’s back now where we can all support him.” Jadzia sighed and adjusted herself so that she could get back to work for a few more hours. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to leave you out, Julian. Sometimes I think he just hates to be vulnerable especially in front of you. His respect for you is obvious. He trusts you. Maybe more than any of us. But we can’t forget he’s still hurting over things we don’t fully understand. He has a right to be secretive and like I’ve said before if you want to know how he feels about things, ask him. In the meantime, I’ve got work to do. Don’t think about it too hard. OK?”

 

At that Dax pecked him on the cheek and hurried out without a second thought.

 

Notes:

[1] In reference to the events of the episode “Things Past” (DS9:S5:E8).

[2] In Reference to the events of the episode “The Ascent” (DS9:S5:E9).

[3] In Reference to the events of the episode “Rapture” (Ds9:S5:E10).

[4] In reference to the events of episode “The Darkness and the Light” (DS9:S5:E11).

Chapter 7: The Doctor Is In

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

[1]Chapter Seven: The Doctor Is In

 

The next day it was Odo’s turn to be confronted with strange and uncomfortable feelings about where he stood with certain people. Much to his surprise Quark had shown up in the infirmary to present him with something he couldn’t say no to. A baby changeling was in Quark’s possession, no doubt, because of one of his many shady deals.

 

At first neither he, Doctor Bashir, or Sisko knew what to make of the situation.

 

“Are you sure it poses no danger to us, Constable?” Sisko asked with both amazement and weight as he and Odo discussed the situation with Julian following along.

 

Odo found himself instantly alarmed by the question. “When I was first discovered, I didn’t know what I was. I had no memory of where I was from. I didn’t even know I had the ability to mimic other forms."

 

“Why would the Founders send such helpless creatures out into space?” The thought seemed cruel to Sisko.

 

“To find out if the species they encountered posed any threat. What better way to gauge another race than to see how it treats the weak and vulnerable?” Odo offered.

 

“I see your point,” Sisko remarked as he allowed himself to consider the matter for a few seconds before going on. “How long before it can take humanoid form?”

 

At this question, Odo’s anxiety swelled slightly. “Several months. Why?”

 

“Well, there’s still a lot we don’t know about your people. The Changelings could provide Starfleet with invaluable information about the Dominion.” Sisko pointed out.

 

“With that being the case, I like to be allowed to work with it—to teach it how to shapeshift,” Odo said hastily.

 

“Oh, I can’t think of anyone better qualified.” Sisko agreed, though there was a quiver of hesitation in his tone. “You might just want a little help. Maybe you should contact Dr. Mora.”

 

Odo’s eyes widened at the suggestion which had caught him off guard. “Mora? Why?”

 

“Well, he managed to find a way to communicate with you. He obviously knows what he’s doing.” Sisko observed.

 

Odo wasn’t so sold on the matter, knowing the doctor better than the Captain did. “Maybe so, but…I prefer to do this alone.”

 

“It's your call,” Sisko replied, accepting the other man’s resistance on the matter. Of course, he wasn’t about to just leave it at that, and before he left Odo alone, the Captain turned at the last minute to leave a parting remark. “But, huh, it’s always nice to have someone around to help change the diapers.”

 

I’ll…keep that in mind.” Odo said with genuine consideration.

 

While he knew the Captain was right, deep down he wondered if Sisko understood what he was asking and the underlying threat Odo sensed was on the horizon if the sick changeling lived. He certainly needed help, but Dr. Mora wasn’t the first choice that came into his mind.

 

~@~

 

“The purge was almost one hundred percent effective. The concentration of isotopes is nearly negligible.” Dr. Bashir explained gently sometime later as he and Odo hovered over the container that contained the infant changeling's sickly natural form.

 

“Well, it certainly looks healthier,” Odo observed appraisingly.

 

“Well, I’d better go check on Kira. Did you hear? She’s in labor?” Bashir asked, realizing rather quickly that Odo’s attention couldn’t be swayed just then from anything other than his unexpected arrival. “I guess you have your own baby to think about.”

 

This last word did manage to penetrate as Odo straightened. Was it true he was indeed acting like an anxious father? Odo didn’t have time just then to consider the deeper meaning within the possibility.

 

“There is still a small degree of instability in its morphogenic matrix. But I’m hoping it’ll level out. I’ve set the computer to monitor for biomimetic fluctuations just in case.” Julian reassured him as he prepared to leave.

 

Once alone, Odo began to converse with the changeling despite knowing it probably couldn’t understand him yet. Old hurt had swelled in him as memories of his painful beginning surfaced and a deep sense of protective hopefulness came over him with such strength, he had no choice other than to embrace it.

 

“No. I’m not going to make the same mistakes with you that were made with me.” Odo found himself promising.

 

At that moment Odo gave himself over to the irrational love and connection he felt. Things were indeed going to be different this time. He would make sure of it.

 

“Come on.” He said almost breathlessly. “I want to show you something.”

 

Later after Odo had taken the changeling around to some of his favorite places, telling it about the station and promising that it could live there forever if it wanted, he returned to the med lab to give it more room.

 

Alone again with the changeling, Odo couldn’t help but regale it with awe and pride about what it was and what it could be someday. His love for it and the excitement of raising it to be everything it could be despite his deficiencies was gaining rapid momentum in the Constable’s mind. The more he felt and thought about it, the more he was determined to help and teach the changeling on his own without the interference of Mora or anyone else who might have possessed ulterior motives.

 

His conviction was just settling on the matter when the doors of the isolation room opened, and a familiar voice sliced through all Odo’s lofty visions of what was to come.

 

“Odo!” Doctor Mora called in greeting as he intruded into the room.

 

“Dr. Mora. What are you doing here?” Odo demanded hardly believing his eyes.

 

Surprised by is tone, Dr. Mora approached him. “Well, I heard about the changeling. I came to help.”

 

After a short and testy conversation between the men about their specific intentions, both saw it wise to leave the medical room for a while. Odo was deeply upset. Upset about everything and he wasn’t sure who to turn to with Dr. Bashir and Kira being occupied. With most of his most important allies unavailable, something finally occurred to him again that had crossed his mind earlier. Dr. Mora wasn’t the only one on the station outside of himself intimately familiar with the changelings. There was Gaven. Odo knew from past observations that Gaven would understand his position and feelings. He had to talk to him.

 

He had to talk to someone.

 

Gaven was in his quarters getting ready to drop in on Kira who had extended an invitation to assist Dr. Bashir during the delivery. He was surprised when his door rang, and a disgruntled Odo was let into his living quarters.

 

“Odo…What is it?” Gaven could tell something was wrong.

 

“If that man thinks…Of all the people. I just can’t believe this is happening.” Odo fumed.

 

“Odo, what?” Gaven was deeply concerned.

 

“What, haven’t you heard? Quark acquired a baby Changeling. It’s sick. It has been in the infirmary most of the day under the care of Dr. Bashir.” Odo explained.

 

Gaven looked about as stunned as Odo had in the beginning. “A baby changeling…Was Dr. Bashir able to stabilize its condition? What are they going to do with it?”

 

“Yes. It’s not completely out of the woods yet, but the Doctor was able to remove the radiation isotopes that had sickened it. And what do you think they're going to do?” Odo asked.

 

“Well given my experience with Starfleet and their feelings on the Dominion, I’d say they’re going to do everything they can to exploit this opportunity,” Gaven said tensely.

 

“Not if I have anything to say about it, Doctor. I’m not about to let anyone poke and experiment on it like I was. To abuse it and treat it like a science experiment instead of the sentient life that it is. Dominion or not, this is just a baby. An infant. Barely aware of anything happening to it. Captain Sisko agreed to allow me to handle the situation as I saw fit and mark me when I say I still plan to do just that. But somehow the presence of the changeling has gotten back to someone I’d rather stayed the Hell out of it.” Odo explained.

 

“Who?” Gaven was doing his level best to stay calm and impartial.

 

“A Dr. Mora. Mora was the Bajoran scientist who discovered me. He’s here on the station thinking he is going to be involved in this. But the truth is I don’t want him anywhere near the changeling. I can’t tolerate the thought he might try one of his…tactics. Do you know he actually suggested that I wasn’t fit to teach the changeling? He likes to go around pretending he was a father when he was nothing but a too eager scientist back in the old days. He actually tried to manipulate the situation, dangling access to his knowledge about changeling development in front of me in exchange for his involvement all because he thinks he’s the only one that knows.” Odo fumed nearly on the verge of hysterics.

 

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Odo.” Gaven placed his hand upon the other man’s shoulder in support.

 

“What happened to me is…Irrelevant. His tests. I can teach the changeling to shapeshift without such a measure. Do you know that after all these years Dr. Mora isn’t even sorry?” Odo asked rhetorically.

 

“I’m sure that’s not completely true, but I believe he’d not think twice about making you believe it was. What can I do to help you?” Gaven asked.

 

“Your knowledge about the changelings is extensive, is it not?” Odo inquired with a tinge of hope.

 

“Yes.” Gaven pulled away and crossed his arms. “As you know my people hold the changeling species in highest regards. All of those of my culture are brought up with a basic understanding of them, and they are one of the few off-world species I was permitted to study at length.”

 

“Would you be willing to help me help the changeling in whatever way it needs?” Odo asked.

 

Gaven's face flushed slightly. “It would be my pleasure to help you Odo in whatever way I can. Though it's important I do not draw too much attention to myself. Kira has invited me to attend the birth of the O’Brien’s baby. I’m going there now but after I’ll make sure to check on the changeling and share my thoughts. I…I’m very happy for you, Mr. Odo. Congratulations.”

 

At that Gaven unexpectedly moved forward and gave Odo a brief hug before shaking his fists in his hand in a congratulatory gesture.

 

Though surprised by this Odo could almost feel how genuinely happy the other man was for him. It appeared that he’d come to the right person.

 

~@~

 

By the time Gaven parted with Odo and made his way to the birthing area that had been set up for Kira most of the excitement had already come and gone. It looked as if Kira wasn’t going to deliver that day at all. Gaven arrived just as the Bajoran midwife was on her way out.

 

“Well, I hope I haven’t missed the excitement,” Gaven said, announcing himself to the assembly.

 

Kira’s face lit up when she saw him. “Oh, I almost forgot you were coming. Please come in, Dr. Ore. I want to introduce you to some people. I don’t know if you’ve formally met Keiko O'Brien and this is Shaakar Edom the first Minister of Bajor.”

 

“A pleasure to meet everyone. And what seems to be the trouble here? I was expecting to meet someone important today.” Gaven approached them coming up alongside Kira to hug her and acknowledge the unborn child still in her womb.

 

“We hit a snag.” Kira chuckled despite the situation.

 

“Traditional Bajoran births require the mothers to be completely relaxed in order to induce dilation fully,” Bashir explained as he finished putting away his tools.

 

“I see. May I?” Gaven requested indicating he wanted to see for himself the state of the child’s wellbeing.

 

“Of course.” Kira eagerly allowed him to press gently upon her swollen stomach knowing he could link directly to the child.

 

Seeing this seemingly intimate act, Shaakar Edom cleared his throat slightly.

 

“Well, the baby is happy even if the rest of you aren't. I anticipate at least another week or two.” Gaven remarked.

 

“God, that’s what the midwife said.” Keiko blurted trying to cover up her apprehensions with supportive positivity. “We’re all very excited.”

 

“Of course. This is just for-shadowing for happy days to come.” Gaven agreed.

 

Before they could converse further, Shaakar Odom gently excused himself. “I still need to go re-arrange those plans. I’ll check in on you later if I can.”

 

“Oh OK,” Kira said allowing Shaakar to kiss her on the temple.

 

“Well, if you don’t need us, I think we’re going to go back to our quarters. I’m sure you’ll join us later Kira?” Keiko said.

 

“What? Are we already going? But I was just starting to get the hang of this cymbal-” When Kira wasn’t looking Keiko kicked Miles lightly in the shin signaling him to follow her. “I mean, I suppose I could use a little more practice. We’ll see you later.”

 

When everyone had gone except Kira and Gaven, Kira sighed heavily. “Why do I get the impression everyone is suddenly mad at me?”

 

“Not mad, just disappointed. Come on. I’ll help you off that bed. I take it that Bajorans don’t believe in bed rails.” Gaven quipped.

 

“Har Har. It's not like I want to be pregnant any longer than I have to be. None of this was my idea. You know? I mean I never imagined myself having my own children, and now I’m completely responsible for the wellbeing of someone else’s. Have you ever thought about having children, Dr. Ore?” Kira got the rest of the way to her feet and leaned heavily on Gaven for temporary support.

 

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I did plan to have children.” Gaven hesitated. “My counterpart on Oum and I were in the final planning stages.”

 

“Oh no. Please. I'm not being insensitive, am I?” Kira asked a little taken back.

 

It was the first time she’d ever heard Gaven talk about his personal life in this way.

 

“No Major, it's fine. It's in the past. Clearly, my life went in an unexpected direction.” Gaven shrugged and began to walk her out. “But yes, once upon a time having a child was very important to me.”

 

“Well for the record. I think you would have made for a wonderful parent.” Kira wobbled to the door along with Gaven. “What am I going to do? I have to go back there and face the O’Brien’s.”

 

“They do understand, Kira. But I tell you what; I have a surprise for you and Keiko that might make you both feel better.” Gaven hinted.

 

When they got back to the O’Brien’s quarters it was clear in spite her best efforts to cover it up that Keiko had been crying, no doubt overwhelmed with deep disappointment she hadn’t wanted to take out on Kira.

 

“Mr. And Mrs. O'Brien, do you mind if I come in for just a second?” Gaven asked after he’d released Kira from his arm.

 

“Huh, of course, Doctor Ore. We were about to put supper on.” The chief looked almost grateful to see Gaven maybe because the presence of the other man made him feel less outnumbered after such an emotional ordeal.

 

“Oh yes please eat with us, Doctor.” Keiko insisted, ever the gracious host.

 

“Another time. Thank you. I know this is an exhilarating and stressful time for all of you. Chief, I was wondering if I could borrow Keiko and Kira for a little bit. If it won’t delay your meal too long."

 

“For what? Is something wrong?” Keiko exchanged looks with her husband and Kira.

 

“I don’t know what he’s planning, but I suspect it’s a good thing,” Kira assured her.

 

“Since I think none of us got what we wanted today, I thought I might offer a present to you ladies since I missed out on the celebration when I left. In my travels and studies of other life forms I’ve discovered a few talents of my own along the way.” Gaven said.

 

Kira gasped lightly. “I know what this is. Gaven, are you sure?”

 

Gaven smiled lightly while briefly shutting his eye. “I suspect Keiko can be trusted.”

 

“Just what the Hell are you all going on about?” Miles asked feeling as if he wasn’t being let in on a joke.

 

“Gaven has a particular talent. A telepathic and empathic predisposition. It’s one of the reasons he’s such a good doctor. I think he wants to help us talk to the baby.” Kira offered.

 

“What? You can do that?” Miles asked in disbelief.

 

“Something like that. It's more biological than psychic, but now that the baby is farther along it isn’t difficult. All three of you already have a biological and emotional link with the child. I can help you open a channel. Come on. Everyone sit down.”

 

Miles and Gaven helped Kira lower herself onto the sofa before Miles and Keiko took a seat on either side of her. Gaven carefully took a position on the coffee table in front of them with his crutch down on the floor.

 

“Alright. I’m going to open the channel first with Kira and once it's established you both can join in.” Gaven explain.

 

“What do we do?” Miles asked.

 

“Wait for my word and then rest a hand on the baby. You should feel a rush and then you’ll be connected. It may feel uncomfortable for a moment, but I promise the discomfort will subside.” Gaven reassured them.

 

Everyone got in position, and after a few moments with Gaven forming the link he exhaled sharply and nodded. “Now.”

 

Both miles and Keiko gently placed one hand on either side of Gaven’s and waited. Sure enough, within seconds Keiko gasped and her eyes went wide and began to well with unshed tears.

 

“Oh my god. Miles…” Keiko stared at her husband who had a surprised look on his face only not as intensely as his wife had.

 

‘It’s happy. I can actually feel what it’s feeling.” Miles muttered.

 

“The connection goes both ways. The baby can feel your love for it. It knows who you are and can recognize you.” Gaven quietly explained since he had to maintain his focus.

 

“It's like he’s inside me still. It feels so real. I’m so happy to be your mommy.” Keiko said to the unborn child.

 

“Everyone here loves you,” Kira said as she tried her best to keep her composure.

 

“We’re going to see you soon my fine boy,” Miles promised.

 

Gaven held the link for several minutes before fatigue forced him to disengage. Miles caught him by the arm to steady him as he pulled away since it seemed as if Gaven was at risk of passing out.

 

Coming entirely into himself a satisfied smile broke out on his face. “Well, I think my work here is done. Please, carry on everyone and have a good supper. I must be away. I still have another house call to make today.”

 

Carefully Gaven got to his feet only to be instantly seized first by Keiko who thanked him and kissed him on the cheek and then by Miles who gripped his forearm to shake it with sincere gratitude. Kira just laughed at this display as she saw Gaven blush intensely at the shows of appreciation and affection.

 

“Yes. It was my pleasure. Kira, I’ll be sure to be there when it’s time.” Gaven promised.

 

“I think it’s safe to say you’ll be more than welcome.” Kira chuckled and encouraged Gaven to bend down so she could give him a parting hug. “Thank you for what you did.”

 

~@~

 

Though tired, Gaven had one more stop to make. He wanted to see the young changeling for himself.

 

The moment Gaven entered the isolation room he gasped at the sight of the changeling sitting in its container and unexpected tears welled up in his eyes.

 

Julian had just finished his last surgery for the day and came to check on the changeling as well. He was just in time to see the emotional expression on the other doctor’s face.

 

“Gaven, are you alright?” Julian asked idly trying to pretend he hadn’t noticed how moved the other doctor was.

 

Gaven let out a sigh. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until Julian interrupted him. “All my life I’ve studied them, doctor. Never once in my wildest dreams, did I ever think I would meet one. And now I’ve met two. One a newling. Doctor, this may be one of the finest moments of my life.”

 

“You sound like Odo,” Julian remarked.

 

“I’m sure. Speaking of, Odo told me the changeling was sick with radiation exposure.” He mused.

 

“Tetryon radiation. I’ve successfully purged it of the isotopes, and it’s stable now or nearly so.” Julian explained.

 

“Mm. There could be residual damage the equipment isn’t seeing.” Gaven remarked.

 

“How do you propose we test for it? I’ve done about as much as I can do already.” Julian frowned.

 

“If there’s a problem at this stage it’ll be on the cellular level. Since radiation damages cell walls and changelings rely on their ability to manipulate their cell structures when shapeshifting we need to develop a treatment in the event something goes awry. Luckily, we have Odo.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Odo can’t change form. They’ve altered something preventing his morphing abilities.” Julian reminded him.

 

Genetically he’s still a changeling. Granted it would be much easier if Odo could link with it. We could keep them together long enough for the baby to repair and duplicate its genetics from Odo's genetic framework. Barring that I can develop a therapy to do the same thing if we need it.” Gaven explained.

 

“Well, you are the resident expert at alien genetics. If anyone has a solution, you would.” Coming around the table, Julian briefly scanned Gaven’s visage. ” You seem tired today. Maybe it’s wise to put off further doctoring until tomorrow. Just a suggestion.”

 

“I agree. I’ll see you later, Doctor.” Gaven lingered a moment longer to gaze at the changeling before he took his leave.

 

~@-

 

Later, Julian had agreed to meet up with Miles for after dinner drinks.

 

“I’m telling you, Julian. It was incredible. The experience made Keiko’s day.” Miles discreetly remarked happily having relayed what Gaven had done for them earlier. “He’s a strange kind of man. Isn’t he?”

 

“No stranger than any compassionate person with his abilities would be, I imagine. Though sometimes I do think he overcompensates.” Julian remarked throwing one of the darts in his hand and making sure it landed well but not too well.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Miles asked.

 

“I don’t know. Gaven just always wants to be so helpful. He is always inserting himself into everyone's situations. Always ready with just the right talent or a bit of knowledge or a kind word. But does he genuinely ever share himself with anyone? No. Has he mentioned to anyone what he did while he was away on Gulba IV? No. He went and came back, and that was that. Sometimes I wonder under all that politeness and accommodating grace if there isn’t someone else there.” Julian pointed out.

 

“Well even if that’s true, he can’t really share much. Can he? Half of everything is shush-shush. The rest is nothing but pain and torment for him it seems. I mean what exactly do you want from the man?” Miles inquired.

 

“I want him to be…Less perfect.” Julian admitted.

 

“You mean more human.” Miles corrected him. “As far as I can tell the man is pretty buttoned up. Except when he’s working or paying house calls, I seldom see him out on the promenade or conversing with anyone outside of the senior staff. I mean, he’s got no real friends.” Miles noted.

 

“That’s not true. I’m Gaven's friend. Kira and Dax adore him and see him every chance they get.” Julian protested.

 

“Look, all I’m saying is there’s a right bloody difference between being friendly and available to folks and actually being their friend. That man has got himself over a barrel with Starfleet. If he’s not a hundred percent cooperative what do you think would happen?” Miles asked.

 

“I see your point. Reminds me a lot of Garak.” Julian remarked.

 

“Yeah well, all I know is that he helped smooth over an otherwise incredibly stressful situation today. I don’t want to sound ungrateful…” Miles began.

 

“But this arrangement with the baby and Kira would have never been your first choice. I understand. Kira knows that too. We all need to be as kind as possible to each other about it because once the baby is here none of it will really matter.” Julian reassured him.

 

“At least I’m not the only one having parental problems. What exactly are we going to do with this changeling on board?” Miles inquired.

 

“Take care of it. Raise it well. I think Odo is warming to the idea of playing the father.” Julian replied throwing another dart.

 

“You really think it’s going to be that easy do ya? That the federation is just going to let a changeling grow up here without any interference whatsoever. I’m amazed they haven’t already whisked it away by now.” Miles pointed out.

 

“The Changeling is an innocent sentient life form. It hardly knows what it is yet.” Julian argued.

 

“Yes, well that’s not always going to be how it is, now is it? Once that thing starts holding shapes and mimicking everything it sees, then what? In times of war, there isn’t any such thing as being innocent. One way or another someone or something pulls you into the mix. All I’m saying is that I think you all better be realistic about the consequences of that changeling being here. Sooner or later, it is going to come to a head.” Miles warned him.

 

“I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, it's your turn to shoot.” Julian said effectively ending the subject for now.

 

 

Notes:

[1] [1] “The Doctor Is In” is a re-work of the episode arch "The Begotten" (DS9:S5:E12). Some of the content was taken word by word from the episode.

Chapter 8: Baby Blues

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

[1]Chapter Eight: Baby Blues

 

A week later.

 

“Do you know who’s arriving today?” Jadzia asked as she helped Gaven look over the specs of the containment field they were calibrating to receive the carrier remnants currently en route.

 

“Honestly, I didn’t bother to look. I of course know who could be arriving, but I haven’t had time to check. I’m sure whoever it is will prove useful.” Gaven replied.

 

“You know, this might be a chance for you to feel better for a while. If there’s enough poly saturation, you could probably benefit from direct exposure.” Jadzia pointed out gently.

 

Gaven scoffed. “I’m sure that’s probably true. Though I’m not exactly eager to go crawling back into my would-be coffin for a radiation treatment anytime soon. Frankly, I was hoping I would never have to see the container again.”

 

“Can I ask you something about that? Is launching undesirables out into space something that happens much or did your people make a special exception in your case? If that’s too personal, you don’t have to answer.” Jadzia had been curious for ages, and she suspected she knew the answer but wanted to understand better what the motivations had been if it had indeed been unusual.

 

“No. My people don’t make a habit of it. Part of the reason the Oum are isolationists is that we can’t survive very well outside of the confines of our sun. The very thing that protects us from outside interference is the thing that also holds us hostage in the universe. My people are space capable despite this, and there have been historical instances of rebellion where others left either against the populaces will or through rare circumstances of leniency. What became of any of them over the centuries is unclear. My circumstances were unusual. My people found themselves in an uncomfortable position that I was kind enough to solve for them.” Gaven said wistfully.

 

“The exile off of your homeworld was your idea.” The subtext of what Gaven was implying seemed clear.

 

“As you’ve probably concluded by now the Oum is staunchly against destroying life. They are also staunchly for accountability in all things. When I broke with one of our most treasured and sacred cultural traditions, I knew I had to be accountable for that defiance. I…I am still what I am. Unorthodox as I may be, I do feel an amount of responsibility to uphold the honor of my people. By leaving me in space to die at my request, my people felt the conflict of my original defiance resolved. In turn, I also stayed true to my individual and divergent principles.”

 

Jadzia nodded in understanding. “When your Bondmaster and mate died, you resisted the death rite of ritual suicide. Which created a problem because there was no social or cultural precedent for it. So, in order to save face and not create a bigger problem you worked out the idea of having them jettison you around the planet to die in space. You did it on purpose knowing there was a small possibility you might survive. You gambled.”

 

Gaven nodded self-indulgently. “Yes. I was torn, you see. Between life and death. So, I left it up to chance and since the probability of survival was seemingly astronomical my request fulfilled the stipulations of the Oum death rites.”

 

“As far as you know, at the very least.” Jadzia pointed out.

 

There was no way of knowing if the Oum knew that the Vulcan’s had interfered and that Gaven was alive.

 

May I ask you a personal question? I’ve been reading about the Trill recently. You’re joined with a Symbiote as I understand. How many host lifetimes has Dax enjoyed, yourself included?”

 

Jadzia laughed. “This is my ninth.”

 

“Fascinating. And you share all the collective memories of your past incarnations as I understand it?” Gaven asked.

 

“Yes. That’s generally the idea.” Jadzia smiled at his interest.

 

“Very interesting. I’d like to hear more about your people someday from your perspective. Alright, I think we’ve got the force field calibrated the best we can. The Vulcan team that is arriving can refine it further for you.”

 

“I agree I think we’ve done about enough. At this point, I’m happy with it if you are.” She agreed. “How about we take an hour and have some lunch. I could introduce you to some alien cuisine if you’re feeling brave enough.”

 

I think I can stomach some experimentation.” Gaven agreed.

 

A little later Jadzia and Gaven we’re situated at a discreet table at one of the best Klingon eateries on the station. Although Gaven politely declined consuming anything that just happened to still be alive, Jadzia found he was more than willing to try just about anything else.

 

I’ve meant to ask you something else. Knowing everything you know now? If you could go back to…You-know-where, would you?” Jadzia inquired after they got through the first course of Gagh and Krada legs.

 

Gaven thought the question over for a moment.

 

“You know, all my life, I’ve been naturally curious. I always wanted to know as much as I could about everything I could. I’ve always wanted to…feel connected to things greater than myself. My people's technology is on par and even rivals many other developed worlds in some instances. My planet and culture are as rich as any, so, over the years there was much I could study right in my back yard that I was content with. But there were limits as well. There were expectations of me on Oum that were less than flexible and enjoyable. While I ultimately still mourn my home and feel troubled over the circumstances connected to my departure, I’ve realized in recent times that I have more freedom now than I could have ever hoped for if I had stayed.” Gaven admitted.

 

Jadzia patted the Doctor’s forearm to show her solidarity though she privately reminded herself that Gaven had gone from being a kind of slave on Oum to an indentured servant of the Federation on Deep Space Nine. That wasn’t precisely freedom and least not to the level she hoped he would experience someday.

 

“Staying, as I’ve said, would have meant forfeiting everything I still cared about and cherished. It was better to take my chances among the stars then die on my homeworld having only half lived.” Gaven concluded.

 

“Here’s a tidbit you might find interesting. I’m the first person to be expelled from the planet in over a thousand years.” Gaven explained before popping a tomato like vegetable side into his mouth. “I must admit I feel somewhat proud of that accomplishment sometimes.”

 

Jadzia laughed and encouraged him to clink his glass with hers.

 

“Thank you for this. For inviting me out. I know I can be…distant much of the time, but I do appreciate the friendship that’s been extended to me here on the station. I just want you to know that if things get more difficult or complicated in the future and I’m forced into things I’d rather avoid…I’d like you and the others to know that despite everything I have found you all to be some of the most courageous and honorable people I’ve ever met.” Gaven said.

 

Jadzia felt touched by his sentiment and conscious of the underlying implications Gaven was hinting. Sometimes it was hard to remember that the Doctor was not there helping them all by his own choice. Gaven was with them because the Federation wanted things from him and as tensions continued to mount it was unclear what could happen if Gaven suddenly stopped cooperating with them. Jadzia was not so naive to think it was always going to be as easy as it was now. If things went badly it was possible that the good doctor could wind up on a different side of the war field than the rest of them were if he lived long enough.

 

It was a sobering realization. “No matter what happens, Dr. Ore. I think I speak for more than myself when I say we will always think of you here as a good man.”

 

Gaven raised his glass in a subtle solute. “May I always remain in the Prophets good graces.”

 

 

~@~

 

 

As Dax and Gaven were coming to terms with the realities of their positions, Odo and Dr. Mora where about to do the same as they worked together trying to stimulate and encourage the infant changeling's development.

 

Up until now Odo and Dr.Mora had come to an uneasy working relationship rooted in the understanding that Odo was ultimately responsible for the changeling's progress plan. Mora seemed to accept the arrangement for the most part though had anyone been watching it was clear to see that Mora was bored of and concerned by their lack of progress.

 

It was only a matter of time before the issue came to a head.

 

“What are you doing?” Odo demanded when he caught Mora running some scans without prior consent as they worked together in the isolation room.

 

Endlessly taken back by Odo’s constant antagonism and suspicion of him, Mora stopped what he was doing and imploringly explained himself.

 

“I’m measuring its volume.” Sighing in frustration, Mora stepped away to log the data on the wall console. “It’s been here a week, and it's only grown seventeen percent. After three days in my lab, you were twice that size.”

 

Annoyed by his tone, Odo lashed out sternly trying to keep his temper in check. Almost everything Mora said to him sounded like a criticism or a justification that Odo didn’t want or need. “Well, maybe I was anxious to grow up so I could get OUT of there.”

 

Mora ignored the dig and tried to sound more reasonable. “My point is, you’ve made no progress. By this time, I’d already gotten you to mimic half a dozen simple forms.”

 

“I’m trying to gain its confidence, not teach it tricks.” Odo insisted.

 

“It’s a shame you’re not a changeling anymore. You could link with it and teach it everything it needs to know.” Mora said pointedly.

 

“You make it sound like it’s my fault.” Odo accused him incredulously.

 

“It might very well be,” Mora said without pulling any punches. “Let’s face it, Odo. Your shape-shifting ability was somewhat limited. Maybe that’s why your people were able to force you to take a humanoid form.”

 

“That is pure speculation,” Odo said in defensive outrage turning away with anger.

 

“Let’s run a few tests and see.” Mora challenged, half hoping Odo might see the benefit of the exercise.

 

“Oh! You are just dying to get me into one of your contraptions, aren’t you?” Odo was practically yelling now as he turned back around to confront the scientist.

 

“I’m trying to help!” Mora confessed hoping for once Odo would take him at his word.

 

“I am not about to submit myself to another round of your experiments,” Odo said firmly.

 

“Everything I did to you was for your own good.” Mora desperately reasoned.

 

“Ha!” Odo scoffed.

 

“True, some of the tests that I subjected you to unfortunately proved to be inconclusive.” Mora conceded passionately.

 

“The vacuum chamber springs to mind.” Odo reminded him. “The cytoplasmic separator…Come to think of it, the protein decompiler as well.”

 

“How could I know until I tried?” Mora rationalized. “By the Prophets, Odo, I wasn’t even sure you were a life-form.”

 

“I wasn’t sure about you either,” Odo remarked as the men stood nearly chest to chest.

 

“Once I realized you were sentient, oh, the Cardassians wanted to know everything about you. I was under enormous pressure to come up with results, and I did. My techniques worked. The fact that you are standing here whining about it proves it.” Mora proclaimed.

 

Seething inside, Odo made his most deeply held belief about his past known in the form of damning accusation. “You enjoyed watching me suffer.”

 

“You really believe that? How pathetic.” Mora countered. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be sitting on a shelf somewhere in a beaker labeled ‘Unknown Sample.’”

 

“If it wasn’t for me, you’d be a nobody.” Odo rebuked. “Starfleet wouldn’t hire you to judge a science fair.”

 

Their mutual fury was starting to wind down now.

 

“I’m getting a little tired of sitting around watching you, but I can’t seem to pull myself away.” Mora was steadily winding up for another strike. “I can’t wait to see what next preposterous thing you're going to try.”

 

Odo simply stared daggers at the man.

 

“Who knows? Maybe in a couple of months, it may get so tired of your incessant chatter that it might actually DO something.” Mora said in exasperation.

 

“Oh, you’d just love to get your hands on it, wouldn’t you? You could sell tickets on the Promenade. Dr. Mora’s chamber of horrors. Open for business. Right this way!” Odo made a dramatic show with his arms like a man acting on a stage.

 

The dramatics promptly came to a close when Odo looked to the door only to see both Dr. Ore and Captain Sisko watching them. Neither Odo nor Mora could say how long the men had been standing there watching them go at each other.

 

“Captain. Dr. Ore.” Odo straightened regaining his self-control almost instantly.

 

“How’s it going, gentlemen?” Sisko said evenly with an expression that portrayed nothing.

 

Odo cleared his throat and squared his shoulders trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “Making progress, Sir.”

 

“I’m glad to hear it.” Sisko dismissively said as he relaxed slightly and entered the isolation room with a stoic-looking Gaven following a discreet distance behind. “I was just talking with Starfleet Command. They want you to establish communication with the changeling as soon as possible.”

 

“At the rate we’re going, that is still a long way off.” Mora interjected.

 

“Better not be too long. Otherwise, Starfleet is going to want to take over the project.” Sisko warned them impartially.

 

“Sir…” Odo was stunned by this threatening revelation.

 

“As long as your making progress, there’s nothing to worry about.” Somehow Sisko’s words almost sounded sorry.” Feeling his point had been made, Sisko began to turn, stopping to relay further orders. “Oh, by the way…Starfleet wants you to file daily reports for their review.”

 

“Understood, Sir.” Odo nodded.

 

Sisko then glanced over at Gaven. “See if you can give them a hand.”

 

Gaven remained frozen where he was. A strange expressionless mask overcast his features that just half an hour prior had been full of warmth and camaraderie.

 

“Carry on.” The Captain said finally departing from the room.

 

Both Odo and Mora glanced at the changeling in contemplation before Mora had finally had enough for one day.

 

“Now you understand the kind of pressure I was going through.” Mora glanced at Gaven who was still a slight distance away and had yet to speak. “I brought my old equipment from Bajor. Maybe it’s time we started unpacking.”

 

Done, for now, Mora nodded to Gaven and took his leave to allow time for Odo to think about everything that had been said and revealed.

 

At a loss, Odo exhaled audibly and shook his head from side to side.

 

“It's going to get worse,” Gaven said evenly. “You do understand that, don’t you?”

 

Odo glanced sidelong at Gaven. “I…Think I’m starting to.”

 

“If the changeling keeps developing here, it’s only a matter of time before Starfleet will step in. Personally, I don’t understand what they think they’ll have to gain. This child knows nothing of the agenda of the Founders. It’s just a baby. The Federation is supposed to care about the rights and wellbeing of other life forms. This changeling is not a threat to them, and it shouldn’t be treated like a thing.” Gaven said evenly.

 

“I know, Doctor. Trust me, I of all people know.” Odo glanced back towards Gaven. “How much of all that did you and the Captain overhear?”

 

“We arrived about the time Mora remarked about you not being a changeling anymore. You know he’s wrong, don’t you? Just because you’ve temporarily lost your shifting abilities doesn’t make you any less what you are.” Gaven remarked.

 

“If you don’t mind, doctor. I’d rather not talk about it further. For now, why don’t we just focus on the most pressing problem at hand.” Odo said.

 

“What isn’t happening exactly?” Gaven asked flatly.

 

“Dr. Mora seems to think that the changeling isn’t developing its volume as quickly as it should. Should we be concerned?” Odo asked.

 

Gaven approached the container the changeling was resting in and moved to place his palm over the top of the container, but just before he made contact, his hand began to tremor ever so slightly and Gaven pulled his hand away.

 

“Are you alright?” Odo asked bluntly.

 

“Yes. Sorry. Seeing a newling like this firsthand is still a little overwhelming. I am concerned it’s not doubling its volume or showing any response to a stimulus. It may just not be strong enough yet, or there may be a more worrisome reason. It’s possible for example that the radiation it was exposed to did more damage than Dr. Bashir thought."

 

“How can we know for sure?” Odo inquired.

 

“It's hard to say. Dr.Bashir’s done all the testing he can think of.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Can’t you just…” Odo asked, unsure how to frame his question.

 

“I don’t want to link with it if I don’t have to. At least not right now. I’ll see what else I can do. If it’s the damage from the radiation that’s stunting its growth, I may be able to develop a new cellular regeneration technique. Changelings only need one cell to lattice off from to self-repair. Like I said before, solid or not, you’re still a changeling and your cells are complete in regard to the data they carry. I’ll need a sample from you to begin developing a treatment.” Gaven explained.

 

After receiving a tissue sample from Odo, Gaven spent the rest of his day in his office diligently trying to create a new cellular regeneration procedure that could be utilized in an emergency. His door remained closed until much later when a call from Kira caused the Doctor to stir. The baby was coming for real this time, and both the O’Brien’s and Kira wanted him there as a witness.

 

When Gaven arrived, he was met with the frustrated looking visages of Miles and Edon standing in the hallway instead of in the delivery room. It appeared as if they’d been thrown out.

 

“Gentleman. Everything alright?” Gaven asked.

 

“No, it is not. We’ve been bloody well banished thanks to big mouth over there.” Miles muttered.

 

“It takes two,” Edon said with an acidic tone.

 

“Give them a minute, and maybe they’ll let you back in. Pregnant people are notorious for changing their minds.” Gaven reassured Miles.

 

“If you’re going in there could ya do me a favor and try to reason with them?” Miles asked hopefully.

 

“I’ll do what I can. Have a heart. One way or another you're going to be a father again today.” Gaven genuinely smiled and made his presence known before he was promptly let in.

 

Seeing this Edon turned in disbelief and neared Miles. “Why does he get to go in, just like that?”

 

“Don’t worry. Dr. Ore is a good man. Trust me. He could be the best chance we have at being let back in.” Miles muttered appraisingly.

 

 

~@~

 

Meanwhile, as one baby was making its way into the world, another baby was struggling to stay in it. True to Dr. Ore’s suspicions the radiation had sickened the changeling more than had been known initially and Odo had been called away to the infirmary while Bashir and Dr. Mora raced to stabilize it.

 

“The radiation must have damaged its cytoplasm in a way we weren’t able to detect,” Bashir explained, all fire and passion as he did his level best to succeed.

 

“There must be something you can do.” Odo insisted.

 

“You might try an enzymatic induction. That might stabilize the biometric fluctuations.” Mora suggested.

 

It's worth a shot.” Bashir said hopefully as Dr. Mora encouraged Odo to step outside so that they could work.

 

As they scrambled in another part of the station, Kira was entering the euphoric final stages of her delivery. Through all this Gaven remained in the background. Despite what he’d promised Miles, he had no intention of saying a word to the women seeing as he was quite convinced Kira would relent on her own and let the gentlemen back in. Something Gaven hadn’t told either Kira or the O’Brien’s was that every time he linked to check on the unborn child, he had been able to share in the biological experiences of the host as well. This had been especially true when Gaven had connected all of them the week earlier. For Gaven, it wasn’t a detail that needed sharing. Even though he had privately benefited from the sharing, it would have been inappropriate to point it out to anyone.

 

He had looked forward to seeing the conclusion of the situation, and as he watched Kira bring the baby forward, Gaven could feel a twinge of sympathy from his womb that amused him.

 

“Here he comes.” The midwife remarked with satisfaction.

 

“Keiko. Would you do me a favor?” Kira asked gently.

 

As Gaven had expected in the final moments, Kira had relented and asked for the others to be let back in.

 

“That’s it Nyres. Relax. Let it come.” The midwife coaxed.

 

Seconds later the sound of a baby’s first cry made everyone present smile with joy and make faces of awe. Gaven’s own eyes welled with tears that he held silently back.

 

Everyone was moved.

 

Just as the baby was being introduced, an electronic message broke through on the wall console.

 

“Would Doctor Gaven Ore please report to isolation room one. There is a medical emergency.” The computer chimed.

 

Gaven’s eyes went wide at the sound. Isolation room one was where the changeling was being kept.

 

“I apologize to everyone. Please excuse me and congratulations.” Gaven swiftly headed for the exit as fear began to set in once he hit the hall.

 

Despite his lousy leg, Gaven practically jogged back to the infirmary catching Odo just outside the room looking grave.

 

“Odo.” Gaven huffed.

 

“It’s the changeling. Doctor, it’s destabilizing.” He explained.

 

“Come with me.” Not wasting any more time, Gaven entered the room with Odo coming behind.

 

“Julian, where are we?” Gaven demanded.

 

“We’ve tried everything Dr. Mora and I can think of to do. The treatment you were developing is our last chance, but I didn’t dare try to administer the protocol without you.” Bashir said swiftly.

 

Gaven stepped to the side and pulled up the computer console beginning the process he’d developed as he injected something into the changeling’s sickly form.

 

“Damn.” He said, thirty seconds later.

 

“What’s wrong?" Odo demanded.

 

” The cellular treatment is taking hold, but the newling is too weak now. It's immune system and cellular replication systems are shutting down.”

“What can we do?” Odo asked desperately.

 

“Odo, we can’t do anything. But you can. If you link with it, it may be able to piggyback off your immune system enough for the treatment to take full effect.” Gaven said.

 

“But I can’t. I’ve lost my linking ability. I’m not a changeling anymore.” Odo protested.

 

“Yes, you are. You’ve never stopped being who and what you are. Now, damn it. I need you to try. Please. What do you have to lose?” Gaven reasoned insistently.

 

Mora took up the changeling’s container and brought it quickly to Odo. “You can do this. I know you can.”

 

Taking the container from him, Odo looked at the changeling and then up at Mora. “I’ll try.”

 

He then poured the sickly baby into his hand while the others looked on — Bashir with deflated sorrow, Gaven with flinty determination, and Dr. Mora with fatherly hope.

 

At first, nothing happened.

 

“Please.” Odo implored it. “Don’t die. There’s so much I want to show you. I was going to teach you how to be a Tarkalean hawk, remember?”

 

As he spoke the changeling began to stir and slowly absorb into Odo’s hands. For a moment, everyone but Gaven thought this was an indication of the end as Odo showed them his hands and Bashir hastily scanned them.

 

“What happened? Where did it go?” Mora asked in alarm.

 

“It somehow integrated itself into Odo’s body,” Bashir observed.

 

Suddenly Odo began to groan and pull away from them, his eyes going wide in pain or shock.

 

“It can’t be!” Odo exclaimed.

 

“What?” Mora breathlessly said as he helped Bashir support Odo.

 

The men stared in wonder as Odo steadied himself and moved away from them towards the exit leading out onto the promenade. Seconds later he suddenly shifted out of his clothes and took off into the air in the form of the Tarkalean hawk. He was flying over the promenade majestically screeching his joy.

 

“It worked,” Gaven said quietly behind them. “Watch.”

 

As Odo landed and realization set in, he shuddered lightly cupping his hands as the newling separated from him pooling back into a slightly rounded form. “You’ve done it little one.”

 

Being too far off for the others to see, Odo soon after returned to where the other doctors were.

 

“Odo,” Bashir said.

 

“It’s alright, Doctor. Everything is alright now.” Odo said pragmatically.

 

“The Changeling?” Mora inquired.

 

“See for yourself…Grandpa.” Odo mirthfully said as he held out his hands. “Come on. They want to see that you're alright too. Indulge them a little.”

 

To both Bashir and Mora’s relief and amazement, the baby changeling made itself known by gently shifting into different basic shapes in his hands like a child showing itself off.

 

“Don’t let it get too excited. It’s still weak and will need lots of care before its completely well, but I think it’s safe to say that this crisis at least has been concluded.” Gaven said. “Congratulations, Mr. Odo. I’m glad you’ve recovered yourself.”

 

“This wouldn’t have been possible without you, Dr. Ore. Thank you. Thank all of you for working so hard.” Odo said earnestly.

 

“Since we’re sharing the good news. Kira successfully delivered just before I was called away. It’s a boy. Well, I think I’ve had just about enough excitement for one day. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I think I will depart. I’ll be in my quarters if anyone needs me.” Gaven said, bowing slightly to all of them before he took his leave.

 

“Strange kind of man. You’d think he’d want to stick around.” Mora remarked.

 

“He is strange indeed, but that’s part of his charms.” Odo quipped.

 

“If you’ll excuse me a moment,” Julian said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

 

Julian excused himself and tried to catch up with the other doctor.

 

“Gaven. Gaven, wait.” Julian called as he caught the doctor idling through the edge of the promenade as he headed back in the direction of his quarters.

 

“Hello, Doctor. Coming along to walk me home I see.” Now that he was away from the infirmary a tired, unhappy seriousness had overtaken Gaven’s features.

 

“What you did back there was amazing. Aren’t you happy about it? Why don’t we get together later and celebrate?” Julian proposed.

 

“Of course I’m happy, Doctor. I’m happy that I could spare Odo the pain of losing something so important to him. I’m happy there was recourse this time and that I had enough time and opportunity to do something about it.” Gaven said.

 

“So, what’s gnawing at you then? And don’t try to lie to me or sugar it. I know you better than that by now.” Julian said as they continued to move together.

 

“I just can’t help wondering if…” Gaven hesitated.

 

“Gaven, what?” Julian pressed, encouraging them to pause in place.

 

“If…It would have been better for the changeling to die. Think about it, Julian. Tell me honestly that you believe it's going to be allowed to learn and exist here with Odo and among all of you. Tell me that isn’t going to be problematic. Tell me that as it grows and becomes its own person with its own wants and abilities that the people here won’t secretly resent its presence. Don’t you see? I may have just condemned that creature to a life that may never be fully its own. Now please, Julian. Let me go home in peace. I have had a long day, and I just want to not think about it all for a while. Is that alright with you?” Gaven said wearily.

 

Julian sighed. “Fine. Fine. Do as you like. Far be it from me to stop you.”

 

 

Notes:

[1] “Baby Blues” is a re-work of the episode arch "The Begotten" (DS9:S5:E12). Some of the content was taken word by word from the episode.

Chapter 9: Familiar Bonds

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine: Familiar Bonds

 

Guilt and remorse seeped out of him the moment Gaven was back in his quarters.

 

Gaven regretted cheapening what should have been a moment of profound satisfaction for Odo and the other doctors. He lamented about allowing his conflicting feelings and actions to affect his relationship specifically with Dr. Bashir.

 

Why had he insisted upon pouring his lemon juice into the other doctor’s cream? Sometimes Gaven caught himself being specifically hostile and less emotionally inhibited around Julian in a way that made him feel uncomfortable and out of control. Granted, of anyone on the station Julian had seen him at his most vulnerable on more than one occasion, but that didn’t excuse or make it more permissible for Gaven to act out around him. When Julien had tried to stop him on the promenade, he had once again found himself emotionally compromised and compelled to vent at the other Doctor. It was a compulsion Gaven didn’t understand.

 

Gaven sighed in frustration and plunked himself down on his sofa before rubbing vigorously at his face as if doing so could wipe away his fresh regrets. For a moment he nearly thought about leaving again and going to find Julian. For what purpose he wasn’t sure. To apologize, perhaps, or to see if he could salvage his blunder and celebrate their medical achievement after all. But before he could put anything into motion, the computer piped in to alert him to the fact that the Vulcan science team’s transport had docked and that he was to rendezvous with them within the hour.

 

~@~

 

Jyrrus Cheval took another deep breath as he sat waiting for the transport to dock with the small science team that had volunteered to transport from Vulcan to Deep Space Nine the remnants of the pod Gaven Ore-Oum had been extracted from. It had been a long stressful trip because of the special containment measures that had been needed to safely transport their radiated cargo.

 

 Of the group, Cheval was the only one intending to stay on the station for an extended period to act as an ambassador and assist and supervise the exchange of data that had been negotiated about Gaven’s activities and what the Vulcan’s knew about shielding against poly radiation. The other Vulcan’s were along to ensure that the package was delivered safely and that the station would have everything they needed to handle it correctly before they continued to Earth for other scientific business.

 

Cheval felt the impatience that was threatening him subside as he guided himself through a long series of Vulcan breathing exercises. It was unbecoming of him to feel as much as he did about his present task. Cheval’s time with Gaven had been long in comparison to the other Vulcans who had overseen his care after they initially transported him back to Vulcan. Cheval had been the first one to mind meld with the alien refugee and had later been the one to bring him out of stasis when the freighter had come under attack. They’d subsequently spent months together treating the wounded and helping to keep the freighter operational as their damaged ship struggled to return home. Since then, he’d tried to put the encounter behind him.

 

Although mind melds allowed for one to view the memories and experiences of another, Vulcan’s were supposed to be disciplined enough for the mind meld not to affect them emotionally. The experience was supposed to serve as nothing more than an exchange of information. And yet over the many preceding months, Cheval had often found himself dwelling on Gaven’s experiences which were indeed terrible and tragic. To be expelled from one's world…unspeakable. To lose a bondmate...Unthinkable.

 

Although Gaven had not asked him specifically to come to the station, Cheval’s name had been included on the list of contacts that had been given by Gaven to Captain Sisko.

 

Logic suggested that Gaven knew Cheval’s presence was a possibility for that reason, though given that Cheval wasn’t anyone of notable importance in the matter at hand it was unclear why his mother and the other elders had encouraged him to make the trip with the science officers in the first place. Then again, his actions, such as his insistence to make contact with Gaven in the first place, along with his decision to bring him out of stasis during the attack, was well known. There had been inquiries about his choices from the Vulcan High Council. Ultimately, he was cleared of any misjudgment in the matter at least by his superiors, his family was a different matter.

 

 Since his experiences with Gaven, Cheval had noticeably changed and those changes had begun to affect his personal relationships which in hindsight might have been why his mother had supported the idea of him revisiting the acquaintance and why his betrothed had not.

 

Cheval felt his impatience surge at the brief thought of seeing the good doctor again. A few of the other Vulcans traveling with him took notice but said nothing. They didn’t have to. Cheval could sense a kind of indirect disapproval of him that they undoubtedly felt regarding his distinct lack of discipline and Vulcan like composure. Despite his high Vulcan ideals, Cheval couldn’t prevent himself from feeling a certain amount of…resentment for their impersonal judgment of him. Vulcans were supposed to be masters of their feelings, and while many convincingly were, Cheval knew that the real depth of his species emotional capabilities was profound. It was because their race could possess such strong emotions and aggression that they had taken such extreme measures to purge themselves of all illogical impulse.

 

As Vulcan’s went, Cheval was considered a weaker specimen of their race in this regard. The sooner he got to Deep Space Nine and could send the rest of the team on their way, the better.

 

~@~

 

That evening many departures were happening. It seemed like just about everyone was in the docking bay halls. Kira and Edon were saying their goodbyes as Edon prepared to return to his duties on Bajor, Dr. Mora was also leaving since he had responsibilities on earth to fulfill and Odo was also seeing him off. Finally, Dax had agreed to join Gaven and the Captain to meet the Vulcan team, and Julian was on call in the infirmary to receive them.

 

It was due to be a late night to cap an already exciting day for just about everyone.

 

Jadzia met Gaven halfway to the docking bay with her datapad in hand when she caught sight of him. Upon seeing his expression, a frown slowly settled upon her features.

 

“Well, you don’t look happy. Everything all right?” Jadzia asked as she pulled up beside Gaven.

 

“Fine. Just a little out of sorts this evening. Shall we?” Gaven didn’t want to talk about the earlier events of his day.

 

“I heard Kira had the O’Brien’s baby today. You were there, right?” Dax was trying to strike up a conversation mostly because she got the distinct impression Gaven was particularly upset and doing his level best to hide the fact.

 

“Yes. A boy. I must admit Bajoran deliveries are fascinating. The euphoria of the final moments. Amazing. I’m glad I was allowed to see it.” Gaven admitted.

 

“I heard that wasn’t the only baby you looked out for today…” Jadzia was ever insistent on having her satisfaction.

 

Gaven sighed. “Yes. The newling was in distress. But Dr. Bashir, I, Dr. Mora and Odo were able to intervene in time. There should be no reason why the little one won't have the best chance possible now to develop fully.”

 

“Odo is better too, I’m told.” Jadzia pressed.

 

A slight smile finally cracked Gaven’s face. “That I can take absolutely no credit for. It can be purely attributed to Odo himself and the special bond he’s managed to foster with the little changeling. It was…Something to see.”

 

“There’s the good Doctor I know and love. Come on. The transport should be here by now.” Jadzia patted Gaven on the back in a masculine fashion s they rounded the corridor.

 

As Gaven and Jadzia were almost to their destination, Odo and Dr. Mora were also saying their final goodbyes.

 

“Well. How does it feel to be yourself again?” Mora asked. His tone was filled with delight.

 

Odo chuckled. “It feels…Right. When I think how things could have gone…”

 

“We should all be grateful for the outcome we had. I’m delighted, Odo. I’m very glad for you and me.”

 

“For you?” Odo asked.

 

“Yes. I’ve decided I’m going to look at what happened today as a gift. To you, first and foremost. But also for me. I feel as if I understand something I didn’t before. You’ve always been amazing, Odo. But now I see that I should have treated you more like my son than my subject. I regret that I’ve made you feel like that’s all you were to me. It isn’t true.” Mora confessed.

 

Mora’s words struck Odo with a mixture of remorse and empathy. “I think…I finally understand now how much I meant to you…But, it’s nice to hear you say it all the same. I can imagine now what you must have gone through when I left.”

 

Mora couldn’t help but beam in a restrained way that was probably designed to keep him composed. “I knew you had to find your own way in the world, so I let you go.”

 

Odo felt his composure slip slightly. “I realize now I should have included you in my life. I was wrong to cut you out of it.”

 

“It’s not too late, you still can include me, and I hope you do. You’ve got a big responsibility ahead of you now. It is both a joy and a feeling of sorrow no matter what you do. Believe me. I hope you will allow me the opportunity to catch a glimpse of your efforts now and again. I wish you well. From one father to another.” He said.

 

Mora then extended his hand to shake, but the shake quickly dissolved into a fatherly embrace and both men finally let go of their differences once and for all.

 

“Take care of yourself, Odo. And…Take care of the little one for both of us.” Mora said.

 

Caught by emotion all Odo could do was nod his agreement as Dr. Mora broke away from him and continued down the docking hall without looking back.

 

Seconds later Kira came from the opposite direction to meet Odo.

 

“Kira. I thought the O’Brien’s were having a party.” He observed.

 

Kira nodded. “Shaakar and I stopped by. I didn’t feel much like celebrating.”

 

“Oh?” Odo inquired, wanting to understand Kira’s reasoning.

 

“It’s just…I got into this because the O’Brien’s needed my help. I never wanted a baby.” Kira confessed. “But now? I just wish I could hold him in my arms…and never let him go.”

 

Odo nodded. “I think I know how you feel, Nerys.”

 

Sensing there was more they both needed to say between them, Kira nodded. “Want to take a walk?”

 

“Ah-huh.” Odo agreed.

 

As they began to walk side by side, Odo put his arm across her back and they disappeared to places unknown together.

 

-@-

 

 

When Dax and Gaven finally arrived at their destination, they saw that the envoy had arrived, and that Captain Sisko was already in the process of receiving them. There were nine Vulcan's in total. Most of them academy personnel and a few younger students who were already experts in their field. All of them were stoically facing Gaven except the one who was murmuring with the Captain directly. He was tall by human standard but less developed than the other Vulcans.

 

As Gaven neared them, he felt a buzzing in the back of his head as a cold sweat broke out between his shoulder blades.

 

As if the Vulcan could specifically sense Gaven’s reaction, he slowly turned around to face him.

 

“Cheval.” Gaven breathed the name as his muted green eyes locked with the younger man’s blue ones.

 

As expected, the other man showed no reaction to his name or the fact it was explicitly Gaven who had spoken it. And yet there was a kind of exchange between them. So subtle that no one else caught it.

 

Per proper etiquette, Cheval nodded acknowledgment. “Dr. Ore.”

 

“Since you already know Doctor Ore, I would also like to introduce my Chief Science Officer Jadzia Dax. She’ll escort your team to our science department and bring them up to speed. We’re eager to utilize your people’s expertise on radiation shielding. I understand its late, but I think we’d all appreciate getting the carrier remnants transferred and properly secure before we conclude this evening. So, I will leave you to it. Please make yourselves at home for the short time you will be staying on our station.” Sisko said.

 

Half an hour later everyone was gathered in a part of the cargo area that had been modified to act as a holding bay. Jadzia worked with half of the Vulcan’s as they looked over the poly shielding and helped Jadzia tweak it for better efficiency. There wasn’t a lot to adjust thankfully. Julian was also there examining fresh samples of the radiation firsthand as the other Vulcan's carefully unloaded the remnants and positioned it for study.

 

That left Cheval and Gaven to watch the entire operation.

 

Gaven looked sterner than the Vulcans did. His arms were crossed over his chest with his forearm crutch resting against his thigh, and for once he made no effort to hide his black mood.

 

“Does…Watching this pain you?” Cheval finally asked.

 

“Yes,” Gaven said bluntly knowing he could be frank about his feelings without causing offense.

 

“Perhaps it would be more logical to retire then. The science teams are more than capable of handling all of this.” Cheval pointed out.

 

“I… could walk you to your quarters if you wish.” Cheval offered tentatively.

 

“I suppose that’s reasonable. I must say Cheval. I’m surprised that you’re here.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Why? You clearly knew my presence was a possibility since you provided my name along with the others to Captain Sisko. Considering I am the only governmental representative here, I would be curious to know why you included me?” Cheval asked.

 

“Now whose asking questions they already know the answer to?” Gaven asked rhetorically.

 

“I see. You included me for personal reasons.” Cheval observed.

 

“Yes. Just as I suspect you agreed to come for personal reasons.” Gaven replied.

 

Cheval pressed his lips and waited.

 

You’re also right. I don’t have any desire to continue standing around here anymore tonight. I’m tired and in bad humor. If you want to come along with me, you can. You don’t exactly seem in high spirits yourself.” Gaven observes.

 

“No. There is nothing to be gained by staying here. I will walk you back to your quarters if I may.” Cheval replied.

 

After saying his goodbyes to Dax and Julian and promising to pick up with them in the morning, Gaven allowed Cheval to escort him back to his quarters.

 

By the time they arrived fatigue was decidedly settling in. Gaven had been all over the station that day bearing witness to one thing and helping put out the fires of another. As the day had worn on his limp had become more pronounced and his features more haggard.

 

“Guh. come in, please. Sit down and tell me what’s gone on since I saw you last.” Gaven insisted when he notice Cheval hesitate to cross his threshold.

Gaven eased gingerly down upon the corner of his sofa.

 

“There is not much to say. You recall my expertise is in botany. Since I saw you last, I’ve been on one of the Vulcan moons experimenting with crop development in low oxygen environments.” Cheval explained.

 

“It sounds lonely,” Gaven remarked.

 

“Isolation seems to suit me,” Cheval said having taken a seat at the glass dining table.

 

“I don’t believe that’s true. But if it pleases you to say it, then fine.” Gaven said dismissively.

 

“Before when I asked you why you included me, and you stated that I already knew why…I assume you were referring to what transpired on the freighter.” Cheval pointed out.

 

“You saved my life,” Gaven said nodding. “And then you saved the lives of everyone else.”

 

“I brought you out of stasis. That is all. It was you who warded the Breen ship off us.” Cheval corrected him.

 

“Did you honestly ask to walk me here to argue about who did what?” Gaven asked.

 

It was clear that Cheval wanted to confront him about something. Gaven wasn’t sure what it was about, but he could tell the younger Vulcan man was disturbed. Vulcans were such strange creatures. To feel as much as they did yet strive always to suppress their feelings, both impressed and disquieted Gaven.

 

“What’s wrong, Cheval?” Gaven asked him gently.

 

“I find myself…I find myself dissatisfied. Since we melded our minds, I find myself unsure and restless in my work and day to day life.” Cheval admitted.

 

“Why?” Gaven asked.

 

“I have found myself repeatedly concerned for you, for your wellbeing.” Cheval sighed. “For a long time, I have wanted to find you to make sure you were well.”

 

“You’ve been worried for me?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Before and during your time on the freighter, I sensed the depth of your suffering. Even before the mind meld, I could feel your intensity. The impression has stayed with me.” He explained.

 

“I’m sorry. It was never my intention to affect you like that. I can promise I’m in far greater control of my feelings now than I was. But somehow I suspect my feelings aren’t really the issue here.” Gaven observed.

 

“You are trying to imply it is my feelings that are of concern. I assure you; I am in control of myself.” Cheval insisted.

 

“I never said you weren’t in control. You’re a Vulcan. Albeit a somewhat eccentric one, but I would never call your sense of control into question. I included you on my list because you are perhaps the only being outside of Oum that understands the extent of what I feel and have experienced.” Gaven said.

 

“You have not told anyone of your direct experiences on Oum?” Cheval inquired as some of the pieces began to fall into place and appease his curiosity.

 

“No, and I see little reason to. Now that I’ve been exiled. It isn’t as if I can ever go back. My crimes on Oum would likely be seen as trifles most anywhere else. The Oum themselves can’t claim that they haven’t gotten their satisfaction in the business. Wouldn’t you agree?” Gaven asked.

 

“The Oum intended to kill you second hand. They have not succeeded. Therefore, it would be only logical to assume that their will has not been fully satisfied as you claim.” He reminded him.

 

“What exactly could they do? Come after me? I’ll take my chances. No Oum, save for me, have left the planet in a thousand years if the records are to be believed.” Gaven replied.

 

“I see. In any case, you still haven’t explained…” The other man persisted.

 

“I’m dying, Cheval," Gaven said bluntly. "You know as well as I that without consistent exposure to my planet’s sun, I cannot sustain. Choices I’ve made have already accelerated the process. I thought that having you here would make it easier emotionally.”

 

“Considering you did not know if I would come, you took a troubling gamble. You could have asked that I come to you.” Cheval pointed out.

 

“I could have. But wasn’t sure how you would take it.” Gaven admitted.

 

“I am satisfied that I found you again.” Cheval carefully said. “Although, you may have picked a poor subject to unburden yourself to. I am a Vulcan. Feelings are not exactly my strong point.” Cheval said.

 

“Maybe so, nevertheless, you are perhaps the only person in the universe; I don’t have to explain myself to.” Gaven countered.

 

“You are implying that the awareness we fostered through the mind meld makes you more transparent to me. While it is true that I have shared in your memories and past impressions, I would not go as far as to say that knowledge allows for complete understanding. There are many things outside of the facts that as a Vulcan and as an individual not of your species I fail to understand.” Cheval explained.

 

“I’m sorry. I was too bold in my wording." Gaven corrected himself. "We, of course, barely know each other. The intimacy associated with the telepathic connection we briefly shared was indeed powerful in the moment but should not be misinterpreted for something it was not. Nevertheless, I am not a Vulcan or a human for that matter, and so it pleases me to look upon you as a friend. If that seems too illogical or uncomfortable, I can…”

 

“No.” Cheval interrupted abruptly. “I…I…Welcome the honor of being your friend. It has always been difficult for me to cultivate intimate relationships even among my kind. I have always observed a certain resentment towards myself, for not being able to embody the classical archetypes and hallmarks of my species fully. In this, we are, perhaps, more alike than different. I appreciate your non-typical qualities immensely.”

 

“I want you to know that the sentiment goes both ways. Vulcan or not, I don’t judge you for who you are. I’m glad you’re here and that you're accepting of my sense of camaraderie.” Gaven said gently.

 

Cheval considered for a moment. “I…I have made tentative plans to remain on Deep Space Nine for an extended duration if necessary. My botany research is not pressing, and I have no other obligations to occupy myself with. I would be interested in staying on the station until your destiny reaches its logical conclusion.”

 

“It seems you planned to stay regardless,” Gaven observed.

 

Cheval pursed his lips. “I confess that it was my initial intention to remain for as long as you required me and to remain for a time even if it proved that you did not. I wanted to see you again. I felt compelled to see you.”

 

“What was the tipping point?” Gaven asked.

 

“After you left my planet, I found myself in a persistent state of agitation and unrest. Eventually, I sought out clarity and guidance to ease and unburden myself. The Vulcan Elders concluded that there was unfinished business between us. Shal’el, my mother, encouraged me to come to you. She thought it would help to quiet my mind in light of the unexpected aftermath of our earlier encounters with each other. It was she who ensured I was included on the travel manifest.” Cheval revealed.

 

“Your mother is a wise woman.” He remarked. “Really. I’m glad you’ve come.”

 

For several minutes neither men spoke, though the much younger Cheval watched Gaven intently.

 

“You are tired and unwell. I should leave you for the evening.” Cheval said at length.

 

“Hm?” Gaven had allowed his mind to wonder for longer than he’d intended because he was indeed fatigued and unwell but mostly because he’d been thinking on Cheval’s impressions. “No. I mean, I am tired, and I will retire soon. But I would like you to stay a bit longer if it satisfies you to do so.”

 

“You…You are in want of my company?” Cheval asked in a manner that suggested a surprising undertone of youthful disarm.

 

“Yes. I am in want of your company for now. That and I was thinking about what you said earlier. About how you wished to unburden yourself. I know you’ve told me that I’ve affected you and because you are a Vulcan, I know you have been bred to be less forthcoming with your feelings. I would greatly like to understand you better. Would you be willing to share your thoughts and impressions with me again?” Gaven asked tentatively.

 

Cheval’s steady gaze that always hinted at mild despondency widened as he considered the implications of Gaven’s request.

 

“You are asking to touch my impressions and share your own. Do you think that is well advised?” Cheval inquired.

 

“If you wish I could withhold myself and allow only for what you wish to share with me.” Gaven was steady enough in his abilities to influence the mind-meld and resist aspects of it now that he’d experienced it before.

 

“No. I have no desire to keep anything from you or to have you withhold anything from me.” Cheval reassured him quickly.

 

“Then shall we?” Gaven gently urged shifting slightly upon the sofa to clear space for Cheval to sit beside him comfortably.

 

Cheval pressed his lips but ultimately did remove himself from his chair and with only the briefest of hesitation join Gaven upon the sofa.

 

Adjusting themselves briefly so that they were both comfortable enough to accomplish their ends, Cheval placed his fingers upon Gaven’s face in the traditional form while Gaven gently gripped his other wrist so that he could connect in his own way.

 

“I open my mind to you. What I have known; you will know.” Cheval’s spoke.

 

Gaven’s grip tightened ever so slightly upon Cheval’s wrist as they open themselves to each other.

 

In moments Cheval was made aware of all that had happened since the last time they had been together. Much of it not much more comforting than what he had discovered the first time. New scarring experiences had been had. Cheval saw how Gaven had been tortured for information after he’d been taken from Vulcan under false pretenses. He felt the seemingly endless emotional conflict Gaven had known within himself since coming to Deep Space Nine. He experienced the deep grief Gaven still harbored over the loss of his Bondmate on Oum and his struggle to reconcile his need for interpersonal discourse against his overwhelming desire to remain ever apart.

 

In turn, Gaven saw and felt directly how the strength of his original feelings and memories had affected and disrupted Cheval’s life. He saw how difficult it had been for the Vulcan to purge himself of the emotions that were not his own and how his actual feelings were forced more candidly to the surface in ways that were traditionally unbecoming of a Vulcan. Gaven felt how isolated Cheval felt and how often he hid away from his people to conceal the depth of his sensitivity. He saw how others of Cheval’s race treated him and rebuked him for his unchecked emotionality which though subtle by most people’s standards were an eyesore to other Vulcan’s around him. He touched Cheval’s loneliness as well as his strength.

 

A few minutes later they broke their link, and when Cheval opened his eyes he looked upon Gaven with a better understanding, he saw that Gaven’s own eyes were still closed.

 

“Doctor Ore. You may release me now.” Cheval placed his hand atop where Gaven was still holding onto his wrist, but he didn’t pull Gaven’s hand away.

 

Hearing Cheval’s urging, Gaven opened his eyes revealing the strain of unshed tears.

 

“I’m sorry.” He said in a hushed, breathy manner.

 

“You should not be,” Cheval told him. “We have both experienced much. Because of you, I understand the conventions of some emotions much better than I might have. I do not regret our contact then nor our contact now. Nor should you.”

 

“Thank you.” Gaven earnestly said before he pulled out of Cheval’s grasp and stood to move a few feet away from him towards his alter table.

 

“I noticed you have not been purging your feelings as the Oum are trained to do,” Cheval remarked.

 

“No. I find myself preferring to immerse myself as much as possible in my feelings as of late.” Gaven confirmed.

 

“May I make an observation? From what you have shared with me it would appear that you are conflicted about the concepts of life and death.” Cheval said.

 

Gaven did not immediately comment and instead turned back around to face Cheval with an expression that gave the Vulcan leave for going on.

 

“On Oum, you were determined to live. Defiantly so.” He continued.

 

“Yes,” Gaven confirmed at length. “Lopel’s death was a tragic accident. He never believed in the traditional notion that the bonded should be tied to their counters in death as they were in life. I promised him that if anything ever happened that I would resist the cultural practice. It was a subject that we both agreed upon and that I honored.”

 

“And yet, you willingly went through with Vell-Par. It was you who proposed that you be placed within the death capsule and launched into orbit around the planet. Had you remained in that state much longer you surely would have died which was what the Oum believed to be your intention.” Cheval pointed out.

 

“The ritual of Vell-Par. The honorable death. Yes. I took that path. Defiant as I was, I could not deny that my resistance was causing confusion and unrest among my people. It was for the love of my kind that I found myself compelled to offer forth some resolution that all could live with.” Gaven explained.

 

“But you did not ultimately honor the ritual of Vell-Par and instead used your extrasensory abilities to call out through space.” Cheval pointed out.

 

“Yes. Where in you and your people rescued me. What of it?” Gaven was waiting calmly for Cheval to get to his point.

 

“You fought through all of that and what came afterward to live. Yet now that you have succeeded you seem reluctant to go on. You speak freely of your death as if it is certain when it is not. You resist the notion of using the capsule remnants as a temporary way of receiving poly radiation exposure that would strengthen you and help you prolong your quality of life and lifespan. Considering these facts and behaviors…” Cheval was about to go on, but Gaven held up his hand.

 

“If you're suggesting that I’m sabotaging myself…” Gaven began.

 

“I am observing that you perhaps are unsure if you want to live or die and I am giving you my reasoning behind the observation.” Cheval corrected him.

 

“I see. You should go for now. I’m tired.” Gaven said for lack of any better response. “I’m sorry to have kept you as long as I have.”

 

“As you wish, Doctor Ore. It was not my intention to offend.” Cheval immediately stood and began to walk towards the door in a manner that seemed almost uncertain.

 

“May I say, Doctor; that speaking as your…Friend, I would not enjoy seeing any harm befall you. Goodnight.” At that Cheval left Gaven to his thoughts which he suspected would be fitful and unsatisfactory.

 

Chapter 10: Curiouser and Curiouser

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten: Curiouser and Curiouser

 

The next morning, the station proved to be a twitter with all kinds of happier activity. Odo was intently focused on furthering his relationship with the baby Changeling who was still under observation. Kira was still enjoying the afterglow of giving birth and bonding second hand with Kirayoshi, and everyone felt a new wave of optimism about being able to further their efforts regarding the benefits of utilizing the poly radiation to advance their cause against the Dominion.

 

As expected Gaven had slept in distressing fits and when he arrived in the infirmary, he looked grave as if he were in more physical pain than usual.

 

“Gaven! Just the man I wanted to see.” Bashir said as he caught sight of the good Doctor. “You look miserable. Are you alright?”

 

“I didn’t sleep well.” Gaven noted how Julian looked to be in top form and in higher spirits than average.

 

Though it usually only unnerved him to see Julian this way, this morning he wasn’t sure he could stomach it at all and quickly looked for a way to escape into his office.

 

“I have an idea I wanted to try on you. Come and take a look.” Bashir insisted.

 

Having little choice in the matter, Gaven tried his best to put aside his bad humor and followed Julian into the lab. On the table, he saw what looked to be a collection of ten small titanium alloy disks sitting in a containment field.

 

 

“I see you’ve been busy this morning. What are they?” Gaven asked.

 

“They’re poly saturated titanium alloy disks harvested and fashioned from bits of the capsule remnants. We’ve got them in a containment field now to prevent any unwanted poly exposure, but I’m confident that we won't need to worry about it once I implant them under your skin.” Julian informed him.

 

“You want to implant those.” Gaven reiterated.

 

“Not all of them at once of course. We could start with two or three and see how your system takes to them. It’s not a forever fix because over time your body will absorb the radiation in full, but these could buy you a significant amount of time and help you feel better.” Julian assured him.

 

“Very interesting.” Gaven muttered.

 

“Well don’t say it like that.” Julian protested. “Gaven, don’t you understand? This could work for you. I would think you’d be pleased.”

 

“I…I am, Doctor. Thank you. I see no reason why your concept shouldn’t work. Your efforts are truly remarkable.” Gaven said trying hard to sound pleasant.

 

This didn’t satisfy Julian who preferred enthusiastic praise over all other kinds, but he decided he didn’t want to pick a fight with him or let Gaven spoil his happy mood.

 

“Come on. Let's get you in an isolation room.” Julian encouraged him.

 

Once they were alone and secured behind closed doors, Julian decided to be straightforward. “Gaven, I think it might be wise for you to go on an anti-depressant regiment. It may help even out your moods. I also think you should start letting me give you something for the physical pain I can tell your in.”

 

“I will do whatever you think is best, Doctor.” Gaven conceded.

 

“What? Since when? You almost always fight me on these things.” Julian pointed out in an amiable tone.

 

“That’s not true. I only fight you when you’re wrong, and this time I see no defect in your reasoning.” Gaven reassured him.

 

“Oh.” Julian rolled back onto the balls of his heels. “Well, isn’t that a nice change.”

 

“Julian, I feel I owe you an apology about the other day. I’m sorry I went off on you on the promenade. Please forgive me.” Gaven said reproachfully.

 

At first, Julian didn’t say anything. He merely stood back from Gaven and stared at him for a while.

 

“I forgive you, Gaven.” He said at length. “And I have a confession to make.”

 

At this remark, Julian casually leaned against the wall and put down his scanner.

 

“If it hadn’t been for you, the changeling baby would have died. I…I gave up. I mean I would have likely given up if it hadn’t been for you. It was my fault that the changeling destabilized, to begin with. When I purged its system of the radiation, I assumed instead of looking further that it was enough. If you hadn’t been there to diagnose the problem and create that new treatment, I can assure you that the changeling would have indeed perished.” Julian confessed.

 

“You ran every possible test you could have, Julian. There was no way you could have known that the damage was as extensive as it was. It wasn’t your fault.” Gaven said evenly.

 

“Oh, I suppose so. It’s just that I was so ready to throw it all in. That’s one of the many notable differences between us.” Julian observed. “I’ve never seen you once give up on anyone or thing. Even when the odds were completely stacked against you, you take things as if everything is ultimately surmountable. It’s one of the things I like the most about you. I would hate to see you hesitate to apply that trait to yourself.”

 

Gaven couldn’t help but snort amusingly that neither gave nor rescinded his agreement. “You're a good Doctor, Julian."

 

“Thank you. Now come on. Let's get these implanted.” Julian said.

 

About twenty minutes later Julian had the disks implanted under Gaven’s skin. One at each wrist and the other at the base of his back. Gaven was then put under strict orders to monitor himself and report back if anything felt a miss.

 

The rest of the morning Gaven and Julian worked side by side running various tests using the poly radiation. With a few more days of research, both were confident they could begin applying what they could learn to their inoculation research. It was a pleasant experience for them and a far cry from how Gaven usually liked to work. Julian’s jovial enthusiasm eventually managed to ease Gaven’s darker mood. It helped that Julian had shot him up with both a mild pain reliever and an even milder round of anti-depressants as well. All of it felt like a kind of turning point where some of Gaven’s natural resistance was relaxed.

 

As the day wore on Gaven’s attention began to wane. He had expected to see Cheval in the infirmary when he arrived that morning and yet it was already after one and Gaven still hadn’t seen him despite seeing the other Vulcans throughout the morning come and go.

 

By one-thirty Gaven finally dismissed himself early from his work to find him.

 

Upon not finding the young Vulcan at his quarters, Gaven took a rare stroll through the promenade nonchalantly looking for signs of him. Eventually, he ended up at Quarks where he finally found Cheval sitting by himself at one of the tables sipping at some blue-green concoction that he did not appear to be enjoying.

 

“What is that and why are you drinking it?” Gaven couldn’t help but ask.

 

“I believe it is called a…Blue Hawaiian. Some tropical Earth drink. As for why I am drinking it, I thought I would try to be…Adventurous.” Cheval said raising the glass to examine its coloring. “My experiment is garnering mixed results.”

 

Despite his mixed mood, Gaven couldn’t help but smile fondly at this reply. Something about the Vulcan’s youthful oddness seemed to amuse him endlessly and put the doctor at ease.

 

“I was expecting to see you today.” Gaven remarked as he settled down in an adjacent seat.

 

“I had planned to call on you at dinner time. Surely, you have had much to do today.” Cheval revealed setting the glass back down and pushing it away from him.

 

“Yes. Although I was still expecting you to stop by the cargo bay or at least the infirmary regardless of whether I was occupied or not.” Gaven admitted.

 

“I cannot conceive why. I am not a member of Starfleet or the Vulcan Science Academy. I am not even here as an ambassador anymore. Even though I technically hold that title. I should think my opinions on anything would be inconsequential to those working on this station. I have no conceivable business to come calling on you in the infirmary during your working hours.” Cheval reasoned.

 

“You look much better today. Tired, but in better spirits.” Cheval observed.

 

“The Doctor has begun me on a poly radiation therapy regiment that he hopes will garner results.” Gaven explained.

 

“I am glad you are choosing to be proactive about your health.” Cheval said sincerely.

 

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do with yourself while you're on the station?” Gaven asked.

 

It was hard to imagine the Vulcan simply remaining indefinitely idle.

 

“I am uncertain.” Cheval admitted.

 

“I might encourage you to speak with Keiko O’Brien. She’s a botanist and might be able to give you some idea about what could be done with your skills. You might consider Bajor as well. It’s close enough that you could come back to the station whenever you wish.” Gaven suggested.

 

“I will take your suggestions under consideration.” Cheval said as he settled his hands upon the table and looked down upon them thoughtfully.

 

This display of youthful shyness struck Gaven as a particular trait unique to him, and it occurred to Gaven that he perhaps made the younger man nervous, or, at the very least, self-conscious.

 

“Well…I suppose I should get back to work. Did you still want to stop by later?” He asked calmly.

 

“Yes. I would like that.” Cheval said softly.

 

“I should be back by six. May I?” Gaven indicated to the drink Cheval had seemingly discarded and picked it up from the table finishing it for him. “Mm. Not bad. Next time try something called a Fuzzy Navel. I think you’ll like it better.”

 

After this suggestion, Gaven took it upon himself to head back to the infirmary and continue his work. Gaven didn’t look back as he departed, but if he had, he might have caught the look on Cheval’s face which indicated intense bewilderment.

 

Quark in the meantime had been managing bar close to where the men had been sitting. Of course, because he was always eager to make a sliver of latinum off the information he acquired and because people tended to forget the natural range and depth of the Ferengi’s hearing Quark had been shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation. While Quark always enjoyed having dirt on people the strange Doctor had proved particularly challenging because though he liked to take meals in Quark’s bar and restaurant, the man seldom spoke more than two polite words together when he was there.

 

Since his arrival there had been much-hushed talk about Dr. Gaven Ore. Most people seemed to know a strangely small amount of information on the man given he was supposed to be so brilliant and such an asset to the Federation. Interest in him was unusually high despite this, and most of the general conversation by people about the man was kept mostly to conjecture, much to the Ferengi’s disappointment. After a mild inquiry of his own, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize the public data in the computers about the Doctor were mostly a fabrication. Quark had spent enough time doctoring information over the years to tell the difference between carefully organized facts and a carefully constructed fiction. As far as he was concerned whoever had done it had done the job poorly, and there was just no excuse for shoddy work as far as Quark was concerned.

 

The appearance of the Vulcan Cheval was equally surprising considering that although Gaven was courteous and generous to just about everyone he did engage, he kept almost no company publicly and seemed a reclusive sort in general. Yet he’d treated Cheval just now like they were almost friends. Quark surmised the almost in part because of the look of shock on the Vulcan's face when Gaven had so intimately drunk from his cup without warning or consent.

 

“There is something very strange going on around here.” Quark concluded.

 

While he was naturally very curious, Quark was also careful not to dig too deeply unless he knew for a fact that what he discovered would be profitable. Anything outside of that might have proved an unnecessary hazard to the Ferengi's health.

 

This time though something irresistibly interesting had passed between the two conversing men. Gaven had mentioned he was being exposed to poly radiation treatments. Considering that poly radiation was both rare and generally harmful to most species, there was no justifiable reason Quark could think of to expose someone to the stuff. Particularly a generally vulnerable species like that of humans. Given that poly radiation only existed in a few remote systems also got Quark’s attention. Was it possible that Doctor Gaven Ore was something other than human? And furthermore, if he wasn’t human than what was he and why was he going to such lengths to conceal it?

 

Quark puzzled over these questions as he tried to isolate angles that could be profitable. But for once his heart wasn’t quite in it. If something was going on, then it certainly wasn’t a small thing. Starfleet had to be in on it which meant that the truth was probably known on the station but only among a handful of people. If it was that big of a secret, then it was perhaps unwise for Quark to do anything that could result in unwanted harmful exposure. Then again, sometimes just knowing about the existence of a secret was profit enough.

 

Quark decided to hold off on doing anything just yet, though he was eager to dig a little bit and refresh himself about which known systems had poly radiating suns and how many of those systems were inhabited. Quark couldn’t imagine that there were very many.

 

As for Cheval, Quark observed that the Vulcan was battling something. This was amusing in and of itself to Quark because he couldn’t remember a time that he ever saw a Vulcan show any real sign of emotion outside of occasional frustration and annoyance. Cheval seemed a slightly more sensitive example of his species.

 

Deep Space Nine seemed to attract many aliens who were not generally typical of the races they were apart of for one reason or another. Quark’s pitiful brother Rom came to mind as did Worf, and Odo. While all had strong ties to their cultures, they were not typical representations of those cultures. Rom was Rom. Worf had been raised predominately by humans, and Odo had gone as far as to defy the standards of his people enough to warrant them taking away his shapeshifting abilities which he’d only just gotten back.

 

Since Gaven had left Cheval had gotten a distant pensive look on his face as he stared at the empty glass resting between his hands. While most might have thought he was merely caught in deep concentration, Quark instead thought he was trying to qualify something in his mind.

 

“You look at odds. Here. Try some Gulbian beer nuts. Thinking is better on a full stomach.” Quark offered, unable to resist bothering the Vulcan.

 

A large cup of beer nuts was produced from behind the bar and carried off to Cheval’s table by Quark personally.

 

“Thank you.” Cheval broke his concentration long enough to give a slight nod of acknowledgment to Quark. “Though, I am not at odds.”

 

“Ah well, far be it of me to go round making judgments about people I don’t really know. Nevertheless, I don’t like seeing people conflicted in my bar and you, sir, strike me as a man conflicted and that’s bad for business. See, it depresses the atmosphere. Now usually a little melancholy helps sales around here, but at this hour there are not enough people to take advantage of so as the proprietor, I’ve got to protect my revenue streams as much as I can. Now, let me see if I can’t use my bar-tending gifts of deduction and guess what’s on your mind. Um. You don’t like your drink. That’s fair. We’ll get you another. You don’t know what to do with all your free time…Well, that’s what holo-suites are for, and since you’re a tourist I’ll give you a two for one session and knock ten percent off the base cost of your first time…As a welcome gesture.”

 

Cheval didn’t bite and only stared at Quark without comment, so the Ferengi moved on and went in for the kill.

 

“Now, if your real dilemma is that you’re worried about the good doctor Ore…” Quark was hoping to stimulate a conversation for research purposes of course.

 

There was the right button. Quark observed Cheval color ever so slightly. Presumably for being so transparent to Quark.

 

“He is well liked here on Deep Space Nine, is he not?” Cheval interjected swiftly.

 

“Well, it’s hard to say. Dr. Ore isn’t exactly the most demonstrative person around here, you see. I hear it told that he’s exceptionally good at what he does though. And you didn’t hear this from me, but, I’ve heard it proposed that he may even rival our resident CMO…But, Shhh. As I said, you didn’t hear that from me. As for my private opinion as the proprietor here? Overall, he seems to keep to himself, so your guess is as good as mine.” Quark said casually.

 

“I am surprised that the good doctor would not attract more open camaraderie.” Cheval remarked.

 

“Oh, I dunno. He does seem to be liked by many people. And I think some folks around here would like to think of him as a friend If he’d let them be friendly to him occasionally. But for whatever reason, he’s just stodgy about reciprocating sentiment. Publicly anyway. Although, huh, he seems to get along with you pretty well in public. Trust me. It’s my job to notice these things. I mean…He’s never said more than two words to me before. Not that it hurts my feelings. With you though, it seemed he couldn’t wait to talk.” Quark mused as he pretended to be casual when he was acutely interested in the Vulcan’s reaction.

 

“I see. I admit…I should very much like to get to know him better. Though perhaps I should be more obvious about my receptivity.” Cheval mused.

 

“Though that presents a small problem. I can’t claim to know much about human customs in terms of hospitality and preemptive friendship gestures.” Cheval was careful to show no signs whatsoever that he knew anything about Gaven’s actual identity and origins.

 

“Ah. Well, that one is easy. He invited you to dinner. Again, I noticed. You should bring him a gift. Nothing too ostentatious. So that rules out food or wine.” Quark snapped his fingers. “You know what? I know just the thing. You should give him a plant. Everyone likes a plant to brighten up their living space. Call it an old Human tradition someone told me about one time. And it just so happens I think I have just the thing. This morning I was helping set up arrangements for a Bajoran wedding I’m catering, and the florist let me keep some of the flower samples as a kind of goodwill gesture. Trouble is they don’t really go with my bar’s motif. Maybe you could take one off my hands and give it to the doctor. Human’s love that kind of thing.”

 

Cheval considered this plan a moment. “A plant would seem an acceptable gesture of gratitude and mutual hospitality. What kind of flowers are they?”

 

“A type of Bajoran Orchid. Very fragrant, sturdy, and long-lasting. Let me go get one, and you can decide for yourself.” Quark offered.

 

To Quark’s delight, Cheval agreed to look at a specimen. Being a botanist, plants were of chief interest to him anyway and gift or not he might have been tempted to buy a sample from Quark if it proved particularly interesting. Quark encouraged him to wait at the bar while he scuttled swiftly into the back to track down his brother. For once Rom’s tendency to tinker on his breaks were about to prove useful.

 

“Rom! Where are you? You know, it’s out of brotherly courtesy that I let you have breaks at all. The least you could do is be snappy about it when I need you for something.” Quark complained.

 

Seconds later Rom appeared at his elbow. “Sorry brother. I’ll do better next time.”

 

“Never mind that. Rom, is that organic bug you’ve been working on finished yet?” Quark gripped his brother by the shoulders enthusiastically.

 

“Well…Yeah, but it doesn't have a long shelf life. I mean it’ll still transmit up to twelve hours of information, but after that, it decays. I was hoping to get it up to at least three days…” Rom said with a humble though hopeful tonality.

 

“Yeah, yeah. We don’t need it to work that long. Tell me a prototype is ready to go?”

 

“Well, sure. But, I only got one…I mean…” Rom confessed.

 

“Get it and conceal it on this plant. I just overheard a fascinating conversation that I want to follow up on.” Quark insisted.

 

Rom reluctantly did what he was told, and a moment later the organic bug was disguised to look like just a normal bulge in the orchid’s stem.

 

Taking the orchid from his brother, Quark swiftly brought it back out to Cheval and presented it to him. “Here we go. If you like it, you can have it for say a sliver of gold-latinum.”

 

Cheval studied the plant carefully for several seconds until it got to the point where Quark was sure his plan was going to be found out before it ever got off the ground. To his relief, the organic bug remained hidden.

 

“It is acceptable.” Cheval said at length. “May I open a line of credit with you to cover the expense in the short term?”

 

“It would be my pleasure.” Quark agreed. ”Right this way.”

 

~@~

 

For once Gaven found himself apprehensive about something other than his many past regrets and the political intrigue he found himself entrenched in. Maybe it was the drugs Julian had shot him up with or merely a side effect of the implants doing their job. In any case, for the first time since his exile from Oum Gaven found he felt pleased with himself.

 

The sentiment felt almost foreign to him considering all the negative things he’d experienced and felt since leaving Oum and because it had been so long since a genuinely happy state of mind had been his to enjoy. Gaven couldn’t help but be judiciously suspicious of its existence within his psyche. The source of his preemptive pleasure was, of course, rooted within the prospect of hosting Cheval that evening. The awkward circumstances and nature of the intimacy that had been generated now by not just one but multiple mind-melds since they’d met only enhanced his interest in their reunion. Coupled by the fact that they were still separate and different people with very little first-hand knowledge of each other, this caused Gaven to experience a kind of giddy anxiety that felt entirely out of character for him.

 

This mixture of self-indulgent pleasure and anxiety was enough of a distraction for Gaven that he ultimately begged off the rest of his work for the day almost immediately after he returned to the infirmary.

 

As he mulled over his new feelings and tried to make sense of them, for once Gaven wished he had someone in his life that he could truly confide in. But, despite being on good terms with many of the station’s staff, Gaven had yet to develop what he considered to be a personal enough relationship with anyone to feel comfortable talking through his thoughts just then. Barring this ability, Gaven knew there were other options available to him. How long had it been since he’d purged his emotions? Not since he’d left Oum.

 

Similarly, to many other cultures, the Oum had developed a strong appreciation for meditation and similar therapeutic practices. This was especially important to the Oum because of their empathic abilities and common communication barriers. The concept of purging emotion was considered necessary to the normal Oum’s health and wellbeing because it was believed that repression could cause physical illness and mental instability. Since leaving Oum, Gaven had resisted the meditative purging process. In some ways, he’d been afraid to let go. So, he’d defiantly held on to and internalized everything he’d experienced since his exile. Gaven had learned to tolerate suffering and make friends with his sense of loss. But until now he hadn’t considered how painful and disorientating it could be to feel anything other than turmoil. It disturbed him to realize he’d forgotten how to enjoy things.

 

Furthermore, the last thing Gaven wanted to do was drive Cheval away or disrupt the Vulcan’s life more than he already had. Cheval wasn’t on the station just because Gaven had presented him with an opportunity to come when he’d included Cheval’s name on the list of contacts he’d given to the Captain. Cheval had been having personal problems because of Gaven. Questions that were persistent and troubling enough that Gaven was convinced that sooner or later Cheval would have tracked him down whether he’d extended an invitation or not. In some way, he felt like he owed the other man something. But was there more to it than that?

 

Trying to calm his confused thoughts, Gaven sank into his sofa and tried to breathe through his feelings which were a jumble of manic thoughts, cloudy self-doubt, irony-laced amusement with himself, and the ache deep within him that was now a permanent part of his Psyche.

 

It was already half past three. If he was going to handle entertaining Cheval in a few hours Gaven needed to do something to get his head on straight.

 

For once he needed to confront what he felt directly.

 

The exact purging process was a little different for every Oum, but the general idea behind the practice was to take any disruptive emotions and cycling thoughts, process them, and then expel them through guided meditation and visualization. Gaven had resisted purging his consciousness for some time, but now he saw no other choice if he was going to move forward.

 

Slowly getting up, Gaven moved to the display and gently picked up the small pulsing box bringing it back with him to the open area in front of his sofa. Placing the box in the center of the carpet he then proceeded awkwardly to get down on the floor despite his bad leg. Eventually, he succeeded and settled into a semi cross-legged position before the pulsing box so that he could focus on its blue light and begin the meditative process that would allow him to plunge within himself moving beyond what was consciously known and into the depths of the unknown self.

 

In this middle space where memory met imagination, Gaven found himself transported to a different time and place. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in front of the home he had shared with his bond-mate Lopel Ner. The time was mid-afternoon. It was a balmy day accented by the sweet breeze that was indicative of the late Oum springtime. The sky that day was only partially clear causing the hazy Oum’s sun to cast a slightly orange hue upon the landscape that enhanced the natural green tones in the patchy grass, iron-rich soil, and trees. Gaven was sitting fully cross-legged in the grass with a telepad in his hand. He had often sat there in such a manner while composing his many essays and personal observations. For what seemed like a long time Gaven managed to forget himself and reality entirely. For all that he knew he was back home on Oum living out his normal life as if everything that had happened had not occurred. This absence of sense generated a feeling of utter peace and security within Gaven the like of which should have lasted him through his lifetime. For a time Gaven drank it all in knowing it as his only truth until something seemingly outside of him disrupted his peace of mind with a harsh crashing reality.

 

“This is far from a time to idly rest, my Gaven Ore-Oum. I am dead; I’m sorry to say. But you? You are alive…” The disembodied voice came from directly behind Gaven and was heard close to his ear. As the voice spoke, Gaven could feel the owner’s rough palm run up his back and over his shoulder to embrace him from behind across his chest.

 

For Gaven, the familiar voice seemed to invade his serenity and threaten the tranquility he was enjoying up until that moment. As awareness began to blossom in him, he felt the familiar biting pain of remembrance, though this time because he was in the place between his consciousness and conscience, the usually violent awareness of his life’s suffering felt far away and vague to him.

 

Putting down his telepad, Gaven gripped the man’s forearm that was presently anchored across his and around his waist and pressed it even more firmly against his body. As he did this Gaven’s mouth that had been turned down in a pensive expression softened and lifted into a feeling of familiarity and fondness. Lopel Ner was nothing more than a figment of Gaven’s imagination and yet here and now he felt as real to Gaven as anything could feel.

 

Gaven tugged on the other man gently urging him around his body so that he could pull Lopel into his lap and cup the man’s face in his hands.

 

Lopel Ner was a jovial type. The kind of person who was full of mirth and mindful humor. His hair was a mess of sun-bleached ringlets, accented by warm brown eyes, and tan skin. Like much of the dominant class on Oum, Lopel was biologically afflicted thanks to the genetics he’d inherited and because of the poly radiation that saturated everything around the Oum people. Lopel’s calves were fused to his thighs, and his skin was rough and marred from repeated infection. One brow bone dipped down lower than the other, and his spine was slightly misaligned and crooked. Yet for all his physical defects, Lopel’s stunning smile and cheerful disposition made him undeniably appealing. By Oum standards, Lopel was considered beautiful and, indeed, because Gaven had loved him beyond all measure; Gaven’s eyes saw only flawlessness and felt only love for his looks, manner, and characterization. Lopel had indeed been a much liked and respected society figure. He was opinionated, mentally and emotionally intense, and fearless to a fault. But now he was dead. Unknown by anyone but Gaven off their planet.

 

“Well, Gaven Ore-Oum.” Said Lopel. “So, I see you have finally come to face me. And now, what do you think?”

 

Gaven let out a deep breath. “I think, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

 

“What exactly is there to know?” Lopel scolded. “You are an Oum, but now you are also a free man. You can go anywhere and do anything you like.”

 

“But what is there left for me without you? Without Oum? How can I let it all go?” Gaven asked seriously, though his expression was soft.

 

“You might start by remembering that you are not on Oum anymore. Look where you are, my love. Look what you’ve come now to know. Are you really so friendless in the universe? Have you not experienced some worthwhile things?” Lopel pressed.

 

“I have known nothing but misery since leaving you.” Gaven muttered.

 

“And yet you have brought such resounding joy to others since you’ve been gone. Think of Kira and the O’Brien’s. Of Odo. Of Bashir. Have you not known worthwhile things with them? You can’t hide your true feelings from me, Gaven Ore-Oum. I know you as well as you know yourself. Your growing care for these aliens is real and powerful. And so very important.” Lopel reminded him. “But I see it isn’t enough for you yet. You’re not ready to let any of them in, and I bleed for you in light of that fact. Is there really no one you will allow into your world?”

 

“Cheval.” Gaven breathed. “He knows more about me than anyone here. He came looking for me even before I provided the means for our paths to cross again. I feel things for him I should not. Things I’m afraid of. Yet I know he can sense my fears and that given a chance he would go out of his way to dispel them. I trust him and like him very much. I admit.”

 

This time Lopel smiled wide and brightly and pressed his hands to the sides of Gaven’s face before pushing his lips to Gaven hard and pulling away in a playful, knowing manner. “Why Gaven Ore-Oum, I do believe you have a crush. I’m so proud and happy for you.”

 

At this declaration, Gaven flushed hot and mirrored his partner's expression of playful pleasure and radiant joy. “You are my bondmate, Lopel Ner. In death, as you were in life. I will never stop loving you.”

 

“My love for you exceeds all limitation.” Lopel Ner vowed. “But just consider that if I have loved you than others may grow to love you too and that if they do it is because you are so much more than just my bondmate and beloved partner. You are so much more than what our people would have allowed you to be. Don’t make yourself unhappy Gaven Ore-Oum. The universe is capable of enough despair without your encouragement. Resist at your own peril and know that while I am always with you, I can’t be with you anymore. If you’re even to stand a fighting chance, you must be willing to let it all go. Time is much more fleeting than you think.”

 

His eyes welling, Gaven allowed Lopel to pull his face into the side of his throat where his pining tears were lost in the curly nap of Lopel’s hair as Lopel held Gaven and whispered silent reassurances into his ear.

 

And for what felt like a long time; time and space, consciousness and illusion, blurred together and carried Gaven deeper into himself. Almost as if he were trying to search out the lost fragments of his evasive peace of mind as it weaved through the alleyways of his wounded heart.

 

Chapter 11: The Vulcan and the Exile

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven: The Vulcan and the Exile

 

Gaven came out of his meditative trance more quickly than was healthy due to the punctual arrival of Cheval and the invasive sound of his door being rung. The sound tugged just firmly enough in the back of Gaven’s consciousness that it broke his purging state and caused him to come crashing back into conscious awareness. The suddenness was almost cruel as he experienced the realness of his projection crumble and the strength of the feeling it had evoked become dull and far away. That was the purpose of the Oum purging ritual, to encourage mental processing and emotional distance. Gaven had primarily avoided the practice since being expelled from Oum preferring to live entirely within his memories and feelings no matter how debilitatingly painful. The effect of the purge was almost immediate. Gaven felt the familiar emptiness of his feelings and the relief their absence afforded him. The state of mind wasn’t permanent, but for now, it would linger until his mind could generate more emotional trigger points.

 

The door rang a second time while Gaven struggled to recover himself and get up off the floor. After finally getting to his feet, he scrubbed at his face a moment and then limped without assistance to his door. By the time he opened it, Cheval’s back was half turned as if he’d been contemplating walking away.

 

“Cheval. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Please come…” Before Gaven could finish his rushed invitation, Cheval caught a glimpse of his face and interrupted him.

 

“Doctor Ore. Is everything all right?” The alarm in Cheval’s voice was cutting in its abruptness and was surprisingly assertive for the usually shy and uncertain Vulcan.

 

Gaven blinked a few times as he tried to catch up with himself and understand Cheval’s reaction.

 

“Yes…Yes, I’m fine. Everything is…” Gaven muttered.

 

“No. It is not. Come. You will sit down immediately. I insist upon it.” Cheval set the big paper package he’d been holding down on the floor inside the apartment and stepped forward placing his palm flat against Gaven’s chest so that he could nudge him back more fully into his quarters. He then took Gaven by the upper arm and ushered him the short distance into his living room.

 

“Cheval. It’s all right. I’m all right.” Gaven reassured him more firmly, making sure to turn into Cheval so that they were face to face and so that Gaven could plant his free hand on Cheval’s shoulder. He gripped it firmly as if to compel the Vulcan to reassess him.

 

Cheval, who was only a little shorter than him, took the opportunity to look straight into Gaven’s face and did reassess his features.

 

Had Gaven been able to see himself from Cheval’s perspective, he would have better understood the younger man’s alarm. Gaven’s eyes were irritated and rimmed in red. There was a noticeable sheen of moisture in them as if he had been holding back tears. His general demeanor seemed disheveled, scattered, and disorganized compared to his typical astuteness and orderliness. All of this coupled with how long it had taken Gaven to answer his door had given Cheval good reason to be alarmed.

 

“You look distressed. What have you been doing?” Reluctantly Cheval released him and tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.

 

“I’m sorry. I was meditating and lost track of time.” Gaven said apologetically.

 

“You were not just meditating.” Cheval objected. “Please explain to me what has happened so that I can better understand.”

 

Gaven sighed audibly and conceded as he settled down upon the arm of his sofa as he often did when he didn’t entirely want to give up control.

 

“Before you arrived, I was attempting to purge some uncomfortable emotions and thought processes. But I miscalculated…I failed to anticipate that it was perhaps a poor thing to undertake under the current circumstances and time constraints of our meeting.” Gaven began.

 

Stepping back and hugging himself, Cheval considered this explanation. “Do the Oum not embrace strong emotional states?”

 

“Yes. We do embrace our feelings. My species, overall, have strong emotional receptivity and selective empathic abilities that we do actively cultivate. But, like your people, my people have come to understand the importance of self-control. Our emotional purging practices allow us to examine our stronger impulses, feelings, and repetitive thought processes and then we can release them as our needs and objectives necessitate.” Gaven explained.

 

“I see. Vulcans have similar approaches for practicing and maintaining self-control.” Cheval related. “May I say something?”

 

“Of course. Please, be candid.” Gaven encouraged him.

 

“Given the extreme nature of your experiences as well as the emotional and psychological disturbances those experiences have caused you, I do not believe you should attempt your traditional purging ritual alone. It is logical that because your emotional burdens are so complex, it may be dangerous or at least hazardous or you to carry on without proper support. It is important that you are choosing to confront that which disturbs you, but you must also take into consideration that your act of confrontation may also present undue stress and incapacitation in and of itself.” Cheval observed.

 

Gaven listened with great attention before he ventured a response. At length, his eyes slowly fell to the floor between them.

 

“I’m sorry I scared you.” Gaven reproachingly said at length. “I should have waited.”

 

“There is no need to apologize to me. I only wish to express my concern as…Your friend.” Cheval emphasized the word “friend” as if he were trying it on.

 

By now he had relaxed considerably and was almost back to his usual shy and uncertain demeanor. But Gaven had been allowed now to glimpse Cheval’s inner strength as well as his compassion. His concern for Gaven was real and not something either man took lightly.

 

“I would like, if you will allow me, to help you.” Cheval remarked.

 

“Cheval, I…” Gaven began to protest.

 

“I do not want to be invasive. The things you do to cope with your experiences and life are your own business. I simply want to offer my assistance for after your attempts. You might find that you need someone to care for you who…” Cheval’s tone was almost manic in his bright and careful willingness and this time it was Gaven’s turn to beat him to the punch of his thoughts.

 

“…Understands.” Gaven finished Cheval’s thought for him.

 

“Yes.” Cheval confirmed.

 

“I have a silly idea.” Gaven said at length eventually quirking a grin. “Why don’t we start this evening over? I know Vulcan’s aren’t much for theater, but perhaps you would humor me in this instance.”

 

Cheval suppressed a knowing look of amusement. “You wish for me to step out of the room and pretend as if I have just arrived.”

 

“I did say it was silly.” Gaven reminded him.

 

Not surprisingly Cheval did rise and, after picking up the package he had placed on the floor, triggered the entrance. He then stepped out into the hall and allowed the door to close.

 

Gaven remained where he was on the edge of the sofa somewhat bemused by the fact that Cheval had gone along with his idea. In the back of his awareness, he could almost hear Lopel’s words again reminding him of his virtues. The purging made the words barely recallable, but despite the dull numbness that blunted his feelings and thoughts, Gaven’s attraction to the young Vulcan nudged its way through his awareness urging him gently on despite it.

 

After a moment, the door sounded again, and Gaven eased himself off the edge of the sofa and approached. This time he was determined to meet Cheval properly. Schooling his features into an emotionless vein, he took his time before tapping the door mechanism.

 

As expected, Cheval was waiting for him on the other side and this time Gaven took his presence in.

 

Cheval was dressed in a simple Vulcan style tan tunic and tailored pants. The casualness of his attire made him look younger than he was. It was a detail that would have been lost on someone not familiar with the species in their natural environment of Vulcan. Gaven had been on the planet long enough to recall important impressions about Cheval’s people. Now in his information gathering mode he allowed himself to note other trivial things. For instance, Cheval was tall by human standards though petite in physical frame by Vulcan comparison. Knowing what he knew of Cheval through their unique circumstances that had thrown them together and through their repeated telepathic contact, Gaven recalled how Cheval had commonly been targeted and harassed by his Vulcan peers for being less robust than they were. Even as an adult Gaven had witnessed some of the indifference and disrespect Cheval still often endured.

 

Gaven’s impression of Cheval was of course quite different. He considered Cheval to be gentle and sensitive. His life experiences had encouraged a timidness and sorrowful placidity that gave Cheval an air of undeserving tragedy, but Gaven knew that with the slightest encouragement Cheval could lift himself above his upbringing. Like Gaven, Cheval was used to being overlooked and undervalued because of what he did not represent. This was perhaps the relatable theme between them. Among their worlds and despite both men’s many personal achievements and admirable qualities both had been cast as insignificant by their own kind and as oddities by everyone else.

 

“Doctor Ore. May I come in?” Cheval asked dutifully even though they both knew the question was unnecessary.

 

Gaven curbed an amused smile and stepped back then gestured for Cheval to enter.

 

“I have brought you something for your space here.” Cheval announced.

 

Gaven hadn’t looked at the package until then, but he could tell what it likely contained.

 

“You brought me flowers.” Gaven observed.

 

“Yes. A type of Bajoran Orchid.” Cheval watched expectantly while Gaven carefully removed the paper.

 

Once the paper was removed to reveal the white-flowered plant, its sweet potent fragrance pleasantly began to waif through the space. Gaven looked at the plant longer than was necessary and then to Cheval who had settled back down on one side of the table.

 

“I like them very much. Thank you.” He said sincerely.

 

Cheval pressed his lips and bobbed his head in acknowledgment.

 

After disposing of the brown paper, Gaven settled himself at the other side of the table once more. “Would you like some tea? I acquired a Vulcan variety that I recall you favoring during the final stages of the freighter’s journey to Vulcan.”

 

“Jasmine tea. My mother used to grow her own on Vulcan.” Cheval remarked as he let Gaven pour out a cup and pass it to him.

 

“How is your mother, by the way?” Gaven asked.

 

“She is well and pleased that we are reconnecting.” He replied.

 

“Why is that do you suppose?” Gaven inquired flatly.

 

“I suspect she feels gratitude towards you for saving my life and the life of the others when our freighter came under attack.” Cheval said politely.

 

“As I recall, you were the one who brought me out of stasis. We saved the freighter’s crew together. My only real service to your people was tending to the wounded after the fact. Even the business with the Breen…It was your idea to alert them to my existence recalling the no contact pact between my people and the changelings from our mind meld, and it was your scientific expertise that helped the crew stabilize the warp core before it imploded.” Gaven pointed out gently.

 

Cheval made no reply and instead both men sipped at their tea for a while.

 

“If I may say, my people should have watched over and protected you more closely on Vulcan. You deserved asylum. Given who you are and what you had done, the High Council would have welcomed you as an alien refugee.” Cheval remarked scowling with dissatisfaction.

 

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault that I was abducted from Vulcan. Even the Federation has failed to produce any concrete explanations of the facts in the matter and, frankly, it doesn’t matter to me one way or another. I’ve come to terms with the reality that the moment I resisted my prescribed destiny on Oum, I lost control of the direction of my future. It seems that is the price I am meant to pay for my exile and my freedom.” Gaven pointed out dismissively.

 

“This is not freedom.” Cheval contradicted firmly. “I do not fully understand what the Federation is holding over you that you would help them at the cost of your civil liberties. You are not a criminal nor does it seem anyone plans to take responsibility for the crimes that were perpetrated against you under the guise of the Federation when you were taken from Vulcan and tortured for information that you did not have. It seems to me you are being drawn into a conflict that should not concern you.”

 

Do you want me to justify it to you?” Gaven asked calmly.

 

“No, Doctor. I would like you to qualify it to me. I am not interested in judging you for your choices. I wish only to understand them.” Cheval replied.

 

Gaven considered his response carefully.

 

“When I was exiled off Oum and left to die in space, my life lost all context and meaning. Maybe the moment Lopel Ner died it happened. In any case, the irony of my situation is that I was exiled from Oum because I dared to uphold the idea that my life had its own unique purposes and meanings outside of what I was born to be. Being launched into space and forgotten about was a statement about being insignificant to Oum and anyone else. Since then, by fate or design, time and again, I have found myself at the mercy and service of strangers. What I am…who I am…seems always to be both vitally interesting and only important so far as it is useful to those who know anything about it. I know that I am caught in the crossfire of the current conflicts of our time. If I’m not warding off Breen attacks, and concocting science that both preserves life and exploits its weaknesses; then what am I doing?” Gaven posed.

 

“Is there nothing you want for yourself? Have you not developed desires of your own?” Cheval asked.

 

“Everything I wanted, I left on Oum. I don’t know how to aspire to anything grander than servitude. It's the one thing I was bred and groomed for. As for this business with the Dominion, the Oum have modeled much of our values around our past experiences with the Changeling culture. We by no means worship them, but we have a deep seeded respect for their value. From what I’ve gathered off my world the changelings have become as bitter and as isolated as my culture has. Their opinion of other living beings has become rigid. The Federation of Planets should and does fear them greatly. The conflict with the Dominion is rooted in the difference between individualism and collectivism. The sum of my own life has been centered around the same argument. I believe individualism should be allowed to exist and prosper without domination. But I fear the annihilation strategy of conquest. It seems to me that what the Dominion cannot control they will seek to destroy. For those on the other side of that equation, the temptation to annihilate before they are annihilated might prove too strong. Someone has to maintain the balance.” Gaven said.

 

“Someone like you?” Cheval said rhetorically.

 

Gaven shrugged dismissively.

 

“For now, I seem valuable to all sides. In the end, though, I will adhere to only what I think is right. No matter the consequence.” Gaven said quietly.

 

“Be that as it may, doctor, you did not answer my question.” Cheval pointed out. “What is it that you want for yourself?”

 

“I want a home. A people. I want a future of my own choosing.” Gaven said at length. “I just don’t know how or when it’ll come along.”

 

“You cannot achieve those things here among these people.” Cheval observed.

 

“I know. In many ways I’m just existing here. Reacting to everything around me. I cannot bring myself to fully exert the power of my own will. Until now my will has never belonged to me. It’s taking time to learn how to be my own.” Gaven shrugged.

 

“It would seem to me that the best way to learn would be to practice. You went to Gulba IV recently. You told me why, but you did not tell me your assessment of their people.” Cheval pointed out.

 

“The Gulbians are a matriarchal and tribal society. They’ve only recently become warp capable in the last few generations. They are a proud steadfast people. Patient. Passionate. They were extraordinarily gracious to me and I certainly understand how to communicate with them.” Gaven smiled fondly at the memory of his adventure. “But they are generally less technologically advanced than Oum was and their world is wild and harsh. It would be challenging to live on their planet long term.”

 

“But you have not ruled the planet or the people out.” Cheval surmised.

 

“No. I rule nothing out entirely except for the notion of returning home. Do you have other suggestions?” Gaven inquired.

 

“I would have to know the full extent of your criteria. However, if you were to remain within the Federation, I might encourage you to consider Vulcan or Earth. Both planets are relatively peaceful and advanced with diverse ecology. You are familiar with Vulcan already. As for Earth you seem compatible with many of the humans here and you did agree to model your visual persona after them. I have never thought to ask you why?” Cheval asked.

 

Gaven grunted. “Humans were the most convenient. They are imaginative and often willing to accept only what they see. They are so different from person to person with such a wide range of emotion and personality that by my estimation masquerading as one seemed manageable. I believe the Vulcan’s have noted similar attributes in their own observation of the species.”

 

Cheval did not reply to this since they were both fully aware of what the Vulcan database said about humans. Instead, he encouraged them to retire to the sofa together. “There are certain logical advantages to Vulcan over anywhere else.”

 

Gaven waited, knowing Cheval would list them without being asked.

 

“The Vulcan government has already offered you asylum. It would not be difficult to become a naturalized citizen which would afford you further rights. You also would not have to hide your identity there. Vulcans know Oum is an isolationist planet. Most of my people would not pry into your personal details unless you openly wished to provide them.” Cheval paused thoughtfully. “There is one final reason though it is more of a preference of mine. You are my friend, and I would find it more satisfactory if you were not centralized in such a dangerous place.”

 

Gaven felt the weight of the young Vulcan’s concern and patted his hand. “I know. I just need more time to think about it all. To make plans. And anyway, I think I’ve done a fair job at passing myself off. Although it’s known I’m not human now, my disguise is rather convincing is it not?”

 

What passed for an amused expression came into Cheval’s face. It wasn’t so much a change in his features as it was a kind of light coming into his eyes that brightened his intense expression.

 

“I am no great judge of human aesthetics. I preferred your original Oum features to this. But considering the impression you’ve made on the station I cannot argue with your wisdom regarding the matter.”

 

“Close enough. I will accept that as a compliment.” Gaven quipped.

 

Chapter 12: The Spider and the Flies

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

[1]Chapter Twelve: The Spider and the Flies

 

Much had happened since the arrival of the sick baby Changeling. While Odo did not generally like rapid change, this time it seemed like everything that was occurring now was bent directly in his favor. The life of the changeling being saved had been miracle enough, but for Odo to have his identity returned thanks, in part, to his bond with the newling…This had undone something in Odo he hadn’t realized had been bound up. He was a changeling once more and along with that had come a new, unexpected responsibility. A responsibility Odo had never seriously considered undertaking until now.

 

“Well, Papa? I bet you can’t wait to put this all together.” Kira remarked with all due pleasure as she helped Odo carry his old things back into his rooms.

 

“I must admit, had this happened under other circumstances it may have been less satisfying than it feels now. When I thought I was going to be a solid forever, I tried to let go of most of what I’d been. But now? It’s exciting. So much more exciting and joyful than I ever imagined it would be. I, of course, am glad to be able to shapeshift again but…”

 

“But now you're going to have a baby in the house, and they consume all your thoughts.” Kira chuckled. “Trust me it’s completely natural. I’m so happy for you.”

 

“Thank you. I must admit there were some enjoyable things about being a solid. Sleeping in a bed comes to mind, though it’s out of the question now that I tend to revert to my gelatinous form when I sleep. Small sacrifices, I suppose.” Odo remarked wistfully.

 

“Ah well, we can put it in storage for now. What about these PADDS? Finding and Winning Your Perfect Mate by Dr. Jennings Rain…Parenthood For the Unorthodox Parent by S. J. Walzer…” Kira read aloud.

 

“Uh…I’ll take those. Research purposes. At first when I thought I was going to be a humanoid for the rest of my life and then later with the baby…There were certain things that I felt…” Odo began.

 

“You don’t have to explain, Odo.” Kira remarked sensing his discomfort.

 

“I only read the first three chapters of the first and haven’t started the second.” He reasoned.

 

“Maybe you should finish them.” Kira encouraged him.

 

“The first seems like a waste of time. Romance is for solids, and I have an example to set now.” Odo replied as if he was trying to convince himself of something.

 

“Odo, you ARE a solid eighteen hours a day, and as a role model I would think you’d want to show this new changeling that they don’t have to feel limited about pursuing anything that’s important to them regardless of the obstacles,” Kira argued. “Furthermore, I’m sure there are plenty of women on this station who would be very interested in you if you’d give them a chance.”

 

“I’ll…Keep that in mind, Major. Though right now romance is the last thing on my mind. The doctors say the changeling baby should be well enough to leave the infirmary soon and I want to get everything in order before that happens.” Odo explained.

 

Kira looked as if she was planning to say something, but the computer system cut off her thoughts.

 

“Dax to Kira and Odo.” The voice said.

 

“Go ahead, commander.”

 

“There’s something we’d like you to take a look at in OPS.” Dax relayed.

 

“We’re on our way.” Kira confirmed.

 

As it turned out one of the Federation’s listening posts in the Gamma Quadrant had picked up what first appeared to be a Cardassian Military Code, however, none of the usual encryption algorithms could decode it. After sending it to Bajor with no immediate results, the assembled officers concluded that the stations resident tailor and former Cardassian spy Elim Garak could perhaps shed some light on the message for them and was promptly summoned to look at the information. The call had interrupted Garak while he’d been taking brunch with Ziyal and Julian.

 

“I'm sorry for the interruption.” Garak said in his typical eager and theatrical way as he returned to his friends at their table a little while later.

 

“Well? How did it go?” Ziyal asked brightly.

 

“I’m afraid I disappointed them. I think they were hoping that the message they picked up would contain the key to defeating the Dominion. You should have seen the looks on their faces when I explained to them that it was a five-year-old planetary survey report.” Garak emphasized.

 

“A planetary survey report?” Julian asked rhetorically with a look of distaste.

 

“That’s the look, exactly.” Garak said pointing to Julian for Ziyal's benefit.

 

“I thought you would have been a little disappointed, too.” Julian remarked gently as a confused expression played across his feature. “After all, it could have been from one of the survivors of the Cardassian fleet that was lost in the Gamma Quadrant.”

 

“Oh, I’d given up hope on ever finding any trace of them long ago.” Garak proclaimed dismissively.

 

“Really? I never saw you as a giving-up type.” Ziyal remarked mirthfully.

 

“There comes a time when one must face reality, my dear. Those people are gone and are never coming back.” Garak insisted with great effectiveness. "Well…My young friends, I’d like to stay here and chat all day, but I have dresses to make, trousers to mend. It’s a full life if a trifle banal. And do tell Captain Sisko that I’d be more than happy to decode any Cardassian laundry lists that come across his desk.”

 

Rising out of his chair Garak touched hands with Ziyal and took his swift leave.

 

In his wake Julian leveled a suspicious glare in is general direction that came from knowing the man as well as he did.

 

Filled with pleasure, Ziyal turned back to Julian to confess herself. “My father would be furious to hear me say this, but…There’s something about Garak I find…Fascinating.”

 

“Yes, he has his moments.” Julian agreed with a sour look of concern still present across his features.

 

Shortly after, Julian concluded his brunch with Ziyal and headed back to the infirmary with some haste. Gaven had taken Julian’s morning shift so that he could have time to make his brunch with Ziyal and Garak, but now Julian needed to beg a further favor from him.

 

“Gaven, I need you to do something for me if you would.” Julian asked.

 

Gaven had just finished up his morning rounds when the other Doctor found him.

 

“Something wrong, Julian?” Gaven asked in his flat, deadpan manner while he scrubbed down his hands.

 

“I don’t know yet. It could be nothing. I just have to check on something, and I don’t know how long it will take. Can you take point, please? I’ll make it up to you later.” Julian pressed.

 

Gaven took a moment to look Julian up and down before he bothered responding. “All right. It isn’t as if I have anything else to do.”

 

“Thank you. If everything goes well and quickly, I’ll stop back and relieve you early.” Julian promised.

 

“Julian.” Gaven said sharply just before the other man was about to leave. “Be careful. Whatever you're about to get yourself into? Remember, life is not a game.”

 

The off-hand comment made Julian pause, but instead of inquiring he looked Gaven straight in the face and nodded. “Right. Thanks.”

 

~@~

 

Julian wasn’t the only one in a hurry that day.

 

While the doctor begged off his shift, Garak was busy swiftly packing. Per usual, Garak had not been wholly or even at all honest about the details of the encrypted code he’d been asked to look at.

 

Knowing its actual contents, Garak was eager to get off the station as quickly as possible. He was so keen in fact that he didn’t bother to generate an excuse for shutting down his shop that day. His plan was simple. Steal a runabout and leave to take care of business, consequences be damned.

 

Garak made it as far as the runabout without attracting suspicion and used one of his contraband gadgets to hack the door locks. It looked as if he was going to be home free, at least for this part of the trip, until a familiar voice landed a fly in his proverbial soup.

 

“Going somewhere?” Julian inquired as he swung around from the front of the runabout’s chair and pointed a phaser directly at Garak.

 

“I really must remember to stop underestimating you, Doctor.” Garak said swiftly as he tried to recover his surprise at being caught so seamlessly.

 

“How did you know?” Garak asked self-indulgently.

 

“You mean, that you were lying about the contents of the message? You said that you’d given up on the Cardassian survivors who were lost in the Gamma Quadrant. Well, Ziyal was right. You’re not the giving up sort.” Julian deduced.

 

“Very good, Doctor.” Garak sad with satisfaction, while putting down his bag. “You’ve come a long way from the naive young man I met five years ago. You’ve become distrustful and suspicious. It suits you.”

 

“I had a good teacher.” Julian responded satisfactorily. “What did the message really say, Garak?”

 

It was a call for help. From Enabran Tain.” Garak disclosed, carefully watching Julian’s reaction.

 

“Tain?” Julian wrinkled his nose. “But you said you’d seen his ship destroyed by the Dominion.”

 

“I did, but Tain was head of the Obsidian Order for twenty years. If he can survive that, he can survive anything.” Garak pointed out. “I have to find him, Doctor. I owe it to him.”

 

“You don’t owe Tain anything.” Julian objected. “He had you exiled from Cardassia.”

 

“Yes, but, aside from that, we were very close. He was…My mentor and I’m not going to turn my back on him.” Garak picked his words carefully but was ultimately firm. “If it’ll make you feel any better, you can come with me. All you have to do is come up with an excuse why you need the Runabout, and we could leave immediately.”

 

Julian didn’t look moved.

 

“Let me get this straight. You want me to lie to my commanding officer, violate Starfleet regulations, and go with you on a mission into the Gamma Quadrant, which will probably get us both killed.” Julian reiterated as he settled back into his chair.

 

“I’m ready when you are.” Garak said.

 

It was worth a shot if nothing else.

 

“In that case…Let’s go. To Captain Sisko’s office.” Julian replied as he trained his phaser back on Garak.

 

It appeared the jig was up.

 

“How do you know that the message isn’t a fake?” Captain Sisko asked a short time later in his office where Julian had escorted Garak at phaser point. “That it was really sent by Tain?”

 

“The code sequence was personally designed by Tain and myself. No one else knows it.” Garak replied insistently. “Now, somehow he got that message out, and I have to follow it back to its source."

 

“Did the message contain any coordinates?” Sisko pressed.

 

“No. Most of it was an identification code. The rest of it was just one word “alive”, repeated over and over again. So, it should be easy enough to triangulate the source.” Trying to emphasize the strength of his feelings Garak took a step toward the Captain and sought to compel him further.

 

“Captain…Tain might not be alone. There could be others. Troops from the Cardassian-Romulan fleet, survivors from the Dominion attack on New Bajor, and even crew members from those Federation ships that disappeared in the Gamma Quadrant. This is a mission of mercy. You can’t ignore it.”

 

"I’m still not totally convinced that it’s a genuine message.” Sisko argued. “But I suppose there is only one way to find out.”

 

“Captain,” Julian interjected. “You can’t let him go. It’s too dangerous.”

 

“Your concern is touching, Doctor, but I assure you I can take care of myself.” Garak insisted.

 

“Maybe you can.” Sisko conceded. “But you’re still not going alone.”

 

Garak’s eyes widened again seeing another opportunity to bring Julian into his fold. “Doctor? I think you’ve just volunteered.”

 

“Dr. Bashir isn’t going anywhere. But I do have someone else in mind.” The Captain said.

 

 

~@~

 

 

The order had come down from Benjamin personally that Worf was to accompany Garak. A detail that had Jadzia Dax in a rare rage when she happened to find out, not from Worf, but the Captain that he was to go on the mission.

 

“I don’t know what makes me angrier—That you agreed to go into the Gamma Quadrant with GARAK, or that I had to hear it from Sisko.” Jadzia fumed as she walked back and forth while Worf stoically sat nearby polishing his weapon.

 

“I was going to tell you.” Worf said firmly but calmly.

 

“When? On your way out the airlock?” She demanded.

 

“A Klingon warrior does not have to explain why he chooses to face danger, not even to his par’machkai.” Worf remarked, quoting Klingon sensibility.

 

“So…In other words, you were afraid I’d make a scene. That I’d embarrass you, maybe even cry.” She said pointedly.

 

“You are capable of anything.” Worf replied, believing his own words.

 

“Don’t worry Worf. I won’t be shedding any tears over you.” She replied just as earnestly.

 

Worf sighed. “Ah. Then you came to wish me a good death in battle.”

 

“No.” Jadzia said bluntly quirking her brow. “I came for these.”

 

In a showy manner, Jadzia reached slowly into a nearby drawer to remove a small handful of music rods.

 

The gesture had the exact effect she wanted it to have as Worf’s eyes widened in complete surprise. “My Klingon Operas.”

 

“Well, you won't be using them for the next few days.” Jadzia reasoned coyly. “Somebody might as well enjoy them, and I promised to introduce Dr. Ore to them. Now seems like a good a time as any.”

 

At this Worf turned away and crossed the room.

 

“What? Something wrong?” Jadzia asked gently.

 

“You have a tendency to misplace things.” Worf replied after turning around.

 

Jadzia scoffed mockingly. “And you're afraid I might lose your precious Operas?”

 

“Yes.” Worf admitted flatly.

 

“It’s a distinct possibility. If I were you, I would hurry back.” Jadzia said innocently. “That is…If you want to keep your collection intact.”

 

Jadzia neared Worf, the ever-present passion between them smoldering now and oozing up through the surface of her tone. Not surprisingly the couple embraced passionately and exchanged a lover’s kiss. Their quarrel was utterly forgotten.

 

“Have a glorious death…Or don’t. It’s up to you.” Jadzia reassuringly said before she turned away and walked from the room leaving Worf both dazed and confused as well as inspired.

 

In Dax and Worf’s case, their goodbyes were always worth their quarrels.

 

While Worf and Jadzia had their lovers tiff and mending, Garak was doing his best to explain to Ziyal why he needed to leave the station. Her shock was evident, to his satisfaction, but Garak couldn’t resist stoking the fires of her confusion and pain at the thought of his departure.

 

While he knew perfectly well that Ziyal was fond of him, a more substantial part of Garak secretly wanted the reassurance of her regard for him.

 

“You can’t go to the Gamma Quadrant.” Ziyal protested.

 

“Oh, I can…and I will.” Garak corrected her. “I have to.”

 

“But if something were to happen to you, I…” Ziyal began. “I don’t know what I would do.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure you could find someone else to eat your meals with. Not that you’d have to. I fully intend to return.” Garak reassured her.

 

Ziyal shook her head gently. “It’s not just the meals.”

 

“Yes, I know.” Garak tore his gaze away from her hiding his true feelings. “I’m the only other Cardassian on the station.”

 

“It’s not that either. You know that.” She insisted. “It’s just that you're intelligent…and cultured and kind.”

 

Garak wanted to laugh at her “kind” description of him. Given that he had spent a lifetime conducting business for the Obsidian order and torturing too many people to name with proficiency and glee, "kind" was not a word he would have ever assigned himself. As wrong as Ziyal was thanks to her ignorance of him, it was entirely possible that she was also right so far as his conduct towards her and others he cared about was concerned.

 

“My dear, you’re young, so I realize that you’re a poor judge of character.” He pointed out.

 

“Why do you always make fun of my feelings for you?” Ziyal said in frustration.

 

“Perhaps because I find them a bit, huh, misguided.” Garak offered knowing the right word was actually “uncomfortable”.

 

“Well, if this is what you think, why do you spend so much time with me?” She asked, her feelings stung.

 

As always Garak couldn’t bring himself, to be fully honest even though it pained him to tell a half-truth to her. “Because I’m exiled…and alone, and a long way from home. And when I’m with you, it doesn’t feel so bad.”

 

“I’m glad I could help.” Ziyal said gently.

 

“Ziyal…No matter what happens, no matter how bleak things may look, I promise you I will come back.” It was the closest thing to a profession of love Garak could manage. “You have my word.”

 

“I believe you.” Ziyal reassured him.

 

Seconds later their sweet moment was destroyed by the unexpected arrival of Ziyal’s father, Dukat.

 

“Take your hands off her!” Surprising them both Dukat wasted no time in seizing Garak by the shirt front and threatening to drop him backward over the balcony near their table.

 

“You touch my daughter again, and I’ll kill you.” He promised.

 

“Go ahead. Kill me. She’ll never forgive you, you know.” Garak baited him while Ziyal protested from the sidelines.

 

The scene attracted the negative attention of almost everyone in sight, and just as Quark was ready to spring into action, an unexpected interloper intervened.

 

“Gul Dukat, I presume. I believe you had some routine business with Dr. Bashir today among other things. Seeing as I have agreed to take over his shifts that means you have business with me. Now you wouldn’t know it, but I’m planning to be very busy today, and I would kindly appreciate it if you wouldn’t complicate my day further by killing this gentleman on the promenade. Best case, I’d have to subdue you and try to save his life, and I really don’t have time for that right now. Not to mention I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your blood pressure down before I have to see you.” Gaven had been eating at his usual table alone when the trouble had started.

 

Turning Dukat glared at the stranger. “If I were you, I would learn to mind my own business.”

 

“Yes. Yes. We should all mind our own business. But I’m afraid, gentlemen, that I can’t have you fighting in my establishment. Take the good Doctor’s advice and settle your disputes somewhere else.” Quark interjected.

 

“I will act as I please, Ferengi.” Dukat growled.

 

“Well, then you’ll excuse me while I call Security. I’m sure Odo will get a big thrill out of having you locked up in one of his holding cells.” Quark urged.

 

“Father…please.” Ziyal implored him.

 

“Public opinion seems to be running against you.” Garak quipped as Dukat still had him half hanging off the balcony. “You know…I think that actually helped my back.”

 

“Let’s go, Garak.” Quark said slyly. “I’ll buy you a drink. Dr. Ore? I’m sure you have places to be. Don’t let us hold you up any longer.”

 

After being released, Garak glanced towards Ziyal and touched hands with her once more. “A pleasure…As always, my dear.”

 

He then couldn’t resist a final quip at Dukat for Ziyal and his own benefit. “You do have a lovely daughter. She must take after her mother.”

 

As everyone began to disburse, Ziyal glanced sidelong at her father. “You’re wrong about Garak, father. He’s a good man.”

 

Calming now, Dukat leveled a fatherly look at his daughter. “You have no idea how much it pains me to hear you say that.”

 

Sighing dismissively Dukat tried to smooth things over. “It is good to see you again, Ziyal.”

 

Smiling at his effort, Ziyal clasped his arm. “It’s good to see you too, father. What are you doing on the station?”

 

“Oh, I had a little skirmish with a Klingon Battle Cruiser. My ship was damaged, so I came here for repairs, a check-up, and to spend some time with you. And I can see…We have a lot to talk about.” He said squeezing his daughter’s hand.

 

 

 

~@~

 

As the hours ticked on, much began to happen.

 

Julian was caught up in meetings most of the day. Worf and Garak had left and been gone for almost twenty-four hours. Gaven had agreed to pick up Julian’s workload for the next few days and had a tense though civil exchange with Dukat as he checked him for minute injuries from his previous battle.

 

All was calm about the station until word started coming in of a possible imminent attack by the Dominion. Soon after contact with Worf and Garak were lost entirely and everyone began to fear the worst.

 

Though Gaven had his hands full, Bashir kept him in the loop as meetings progressed. Much of their plans to protect against a changeling invasion weren't entirely in place yet, and even if they had been, there was still the Jem’Hadar forces to contend with. To confirm things Kira was sent alone with the Defiant and was met with the shocking reality of their situation. The Dominion was indeed coming. After engaging a brief battle, Kira made it back in through the wormhole though unbeknown to her she was not alone.

 

Tired and anxious for the impending Dominion invasion, Bashir hurried on his way back to the infirmary to check on Gaven and to see if they could expedite any of their plans before the Dominion ships arrived. While traveling through the promenade Julian caught sight of a young child crying alone near the side of one of the shops with a badly scraped knee. Being a doctor and with everyone else scattered and either trying to get off the station or hunkered down, Bashir instantly stopped to assess the situation.

 

“My, Hello little one. That looks uncomfortable. Where are your parents?” Julian inquired.

 

“They’re inside. I fell, and it hurts.” The child cried.

 

“Shh. Come on. I’ll take you to them, and we’ll get you all patched up.” Julian picked the small girl up in his arms and hurried into the abandoned shop to meet the girl’s parents. But once inside he found the space completely abandoned. “Hm. Strange. I don’t see them.”

 

Once they were inside and out of eyesight. To Bashir’s horror, the little girl suddenly transformed into what appeared to be a white-haired yeti and attacked him. Julian didn’t stand a chance and was almost immediately incapacitated, bound, and left for dead in the back of the shop.

 

Shortly after the impostor shifted again. This time into Bashir himself and adjusted his uniform.

 

“Yes. Strange, indeed.” The changeling replied in a perfect replica of Julian’s voice and tonality.

 

~@~

 

Captain’s Log: Supplemental.

 

A full-scale Dominion invasion appears imminent. Still, I remain confident in my crew's ability to face this crisis as they have so many others—with dedication and with courage.

 

“Our last listening post in the Gamma Quadrant just went dead.” Kira confirmed as the impostor Bashir looked on between the officers.

 

“That was right on the other side of the wormhole.” Dax added trying to remain calm.

 

“Which means the Dominion’s fleet is just minutes away. Doctor Ore reports we have no other alternative on his end. Cheif!” Sisko barked.

 

“Nearly ready.” Miles replied.

 

They were about to try and blow the wormhole as a last-ditch attempt to shut down the invasion.

 

“Worf…” Jadzia couldn’t help herself.

 

“Is a Klingon Warrior.” The impostor Bashir coldly remarked. “He’ll understand.”

 

“Neutrino levels in the wormhole are rising.” Kira said.

 

“If we’re going to do this, it’s got to be now.” Sisko said.

 

“Ready.” Miles responded.

 

“Here goes nothing.” The impostor Bashir remarked prophetically.

 

“Activate the graviton emitters.” Sisko ordered.

 

Kira did what she was told and before holding her breath muttered a barely audible prayer of forgiveness.

 

Seconds later, Miles executed the command.

 

Everyone seemed to hold their breath as the beams tried to do their work until an explosion erupted from one of the consoles near Miles.

 

“We’re losing it.” Dax announced.

 

“What happened!” Sisko demanded.

 

“Someone sabotaged the emitter array.” Miles explained.

 

“Captain! The wormhole is opening!” Someone yelled.

 

“Battle stations!” Sisko barked while they all watched the ships emerge through the hole.

 

Minutes later Dax and Kira took their battle positions on the Defiant while Dukat came into position with his ship.

 

“Nobody fires until we have orders from Captain Sisko.” Kira ordered as she settled into command.

 

“There sure are a lot of them.” Dax remarked.

 

“That’ll just make it harder for us to miss.” Kira assured her.

 

“They’re still not responding to our hails.” Miles muttered back on Deep Space Nine.

 

“I think they’re trying to intimidate us.” Sisko observed.

 

“Well, it’s working.” Miles replied. “I don’t believe it. The Dominion ships are turning away from the station. They’re laying in a new course.”

 

“Heading?” Sisko asked.

 

“Straight for Cardassia.” Miles said in wonder.

 

“Dukat’s ship is breaking formation. He’s going after the Dominion fleet.” Dax observed.

 

“Open a channel.” Kira demanded. “Dukat. Stop trying to be a hero. Get back to the station.”

 

“Your concern is touching, Major.” Dukat said over the view screen. “But I think you misunderstand me. I’m not attacking the Dominion fleet. I’m joining it.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Kira asked skeptically.

 

“I’m afraid I have a confession to make, Major. For the past few months, I’ve been conducting secret negotiations between the Dominion and Cardassia. And as of last week, Cardassia has agreed to become part of the Dominion.” Dukat explained.

 

“You can’t be serious.” Kira said in disbelief.

 

“Good-bye, Major. You and I on the same side. It never seemed quite…Right. Did it?” Dukat asked rhetorically.

 

“Lock phasers. Open fire.” Kira muttered.

 

“Too late. He’s gone.” Dax confirmed.

 

 

~@~

 

 

The next day the officers gathered to listen to Dukat’s deplorable speech about Cardassia’s defection to the Dominion. Almost everyone was still trying to absorb the depths of what was happening. As if it wasn’t sickening enough to listen to Dukat pledge to restore the glory of Cardassia buy systematically destroying every Klingons and Marque in Cardassian space, Worf and Garak still had not returned from their mission and it quickly became abundantly clear that someone was sabotaging areas on the ship. In short order Klingon war ships began to gather in the area collectively represented by the Klingon Chancellor Gowron and it was Sisko’s plan to ally with Gowron in the protection of key facilities on the station. Based on intel from a taunting Dukat as well it seemed as if Dukat had eyes on taking back the station in the name of Cardassia and with the help of Dominion allies. Time was once again of the essence.

 

Of all of this Gaven was largely excluded. With everything happening it and wounded coming in regularly, most Klingon, Gaen was up to his elbows in complex alien anatomy and presumably because Julian was acting presently in a command capacity rather than strictly as a doctor for the time being, Gaven had been stuck in the infirmary since the day before without relief or much practical assistance. Gaven found this most unusual but he was too busy trying to keep people alive to think too deeply about it.

 

“Julian. Where the Hell have you been and what is going on around here?” Gaven demanded as the impostor Julian eventually arrived in the infirmary just as more Klingon casualties were coming in.

 

“War, Doctor. Haven’t you been getting my briefings?” The impostor Julian asked just ever so more coldly and deadpan then the real Julian would have.

 

His strange tonality was not missed by Gaven who was acutely sensitive to all Julian’s expressions. “I see. Were you planning to help me at all today?”

 

“Yes. Of course, doctor. Sorry. Let’s get to work.” Was all the impostor said.

 

The casualness of this response struck Gaven awkwardly, but he was so overwhelmed and his senses so strained from linking with and mapping countless bodies that he didn’t in the moment have the mental strength to question him further.

 

Eventually, word finally broke through the front line from Garak of all people. Relating a warning about the upcoming attack and detailing in brief that they had located Tain on a Dominion controlled internment camp hidden on an asteroid in the Gamma quadrant. With him was Worf and various survivors and fellow escapees from numerous races that had been captured by the Dominion forces and declared their enemies. Kira was to be sent to help retrieve them.

 

“This is a dark day. Not only for the Klingon Empire but for the Alpha Quadrant itself.” The Klingon Gowron said in another part of the infiirmery as he conferenced with Captain Sisko while his wounds were being tended.

 

“So, what are we going to do about it?” Sisko asked.

 

“I will do what must be done. Pull back. Pull my forces out of Cardassian space, fortify the Klingon Empire and prepare for a fight to the death.” Gowron said passionately.

 

“Maybe there’s a better way.” Sisko offered as he handed him a PADD.

 

“The Khitomer Accords?” The Klingon questioned. ”The treaty between the Federation and the Klingon Empire is dead.”

 

“But we can bring it back to life again.” Sisko argued. “This is the most fortified position between here and the Klingon Empire. There will be a Starfleet task force here soon. If you could bring your fleet here—”

 

Sisko rallied.

 

“Then we could stand united against the Dominion.” Gowron finished, before turning around to face him. “And if we do…”

 

“We might have a chance.” The impostor Bashir affirmed.

 

“Think of it. Five years ago, no one had ever heard of Bajor or Deep Space Nine, and now, all our hopes rest here. Where the tides of fortune take us, no man can know.” Gowron said handing back the PADD.

 

“They’re tricky, those tides.” Sisko remarked with zeal while the stoic impostor Julian looked on.

 

Unbeknown to any of them Gaven was in the background listening. His attention acutely trained on Julian in particular.

 

Soon after, the impostor Bashir left the infirmary with no word as to why or when he’d be back. A short time later he was lurking about the station. Sabotaging more systems as he went without anyone’s notice.

 

Later the remainder of Gowron’s ships arrived, and the expected Federation task force was only hours away. Meanwhile, Odo and Kira began to discover more evidence of sabotage. In response, Sisko encouraged Kira and Odo to double their security measures and reach out to Gowron’s forces for extra support. To add further fans to the flame, Dukat revealed his intentions to reclaim Deep Space Nine if the Federation did not follow suit and join the Dominion. The Captain was not amicable to this plan asserting that Dukat was welcome to try.

 

Nearly five days into the conflict, Gaven was growing increasingly suspicious of Julian’s strange behavior. His instincts told him not to make any movements until he was sure. Was it possible that the saboteur everyone was looking for was Julian? If it was indeed possible, then Gaven surmised it was also more plausible that the person everyone thought was Julian was someone or something else entirely. There were ways Gaven knew of testing his theory. However, the problem remained that if the current Julian was an impostor, what then had become of the real Julian? Had the interloper subdued him somewhere? Had they spirited him away? Or killed him outright? The very thought of the final possibility sent chills up Gaven’s spine. It became his main priority to figure out where Julian was and to secure him if possible before he made any other moves.

 

Gaven began his secret investigation by first trying to deduce precisely when the Doctor had likely been replaced. When had the subtle changes in his temperament first become noticeable?

 

Unlike Julian’s mental recall that was only nearly perfect, Gaven’s enhanced abilities and alien background meant his recall was perfect. The problem was Julian had been mostly away from Gaven since the current crisis had begun.

 

Nevertheless, Gaven was able to loosely determine through his recall that he’d started noticing Julian’s too cold and unfeeling demeanor right around the time Kira had returned with the Defiant through the wormhole. A quick analysis of the reports Julian had sent him also showed a telling and subtle change in writing style that was most noticeable in the briefing that Gul Dukat had attended. That was almost five days ago Gaven calculated. If Julian was alive but injured somewhere and incapacitated, Gaven had to find him as soon as possible.

 

His discoveries narrowed the timeline. He’d personally noticed a change in temperament when Bashir had failed to check in on him as promptly as expected as the injured Klingon’s first began to arrive.

 

What had he said? War, Doctor.

 

Gaven recalled how calculatingly he had said it. While Gaven of all people knew Julian hid much of his real temperament and personality, the man had always gone the extra mile to conceal it around Gaven. An effort which had only made the cover-up more evident to him. But this other Julian no longer tried to conceal himself. How he presented was who he really was. That meant that there was a good chance the impostor had tangled with Julian while in route to the infirmary. Which meant it was possible their touchpoint had been somewhere along the main promenade.

 

Gaven knew he had to be subtle from there on out. Almost all the everyday civilians had fled the station. Many, including Cheval and the O’Brien’s, had gone to Bajor for temporary refuge.

 

This meant the promenade would be empty enough to look for clues, but it also suggested it would seem odd if Gaven were witnessed poking about and loitering for no apparent reason. Still, he had to try.

 

Gaven walked the promenade in sweeps using his breaks and mealtimes as a cover since the infirmary was quite full. His superior abilities helped make those sweeps as detailed as possible as he looked for anything out of the ordinary. A sign of looting or trespass among the shops, evidence of a battle in the nooks and crannies between them. Traces of blood. On his third sweep through the promenade on his way home for dinner Gaven finally found what he was looking for. A light in the back of one of the semi-secured shops was flickering on and off as if something were disrupting its power source. Although there was no sign of breaking and entering Gaven knew it was possible that Julian could have been lured into one of the establishments since an attack out in public would have been noticed.

 

Another interesting point was that this store, a small rug shop, was not as secured as the others. After all, rugs weren’t exactly a hot commodity. At least not the ones being sold there. Not caring if he were breaking any rules Gaven made sure no one was immediately about and cut into the shop's side entrance where it would be less noticeable. If he got caught, he could always fall back on plan B and convince Odo to investigate.

 

Using the flickering light as a guide, Gaven made his way through the rug shop and into the back storeroom where he’d seen the slight flickering through a side window. Gaven’s sensitive senses could smell something was amiss right away. The room reeked of stale sweat, blood, and urine.

 

“Oh, Julian by whatever power’s there might be let you be here and be alive.” Gaven hoarsely said as he looked about the space.

 

At first glance, he saw nothing, but as his eyes swiftly adjusted to the dim flickering light, he caught the sheen from a pair of boots sticking out from underneath a set of heavy rolled rugs. As Gaven took a closer look, he could make out a familiar hand sticking out of the mess.

 

“Julian. My Gods. Julian, it’s me. Dr. Ore. Julian can you hear me.” Gaven didn’t immediately try to move the heavy carpets Julian was hidden beneath.

 

Instead, he knelt and gently felt for Julian’s pulse via his wrist. To his relief, Gaven could make out a subtle thready pulse. Julian was alive but barely. Given the stench of blood in the room, it was all too possible that he had experienced some internal or external injury that had caused him to bleed out slowly. If that was the case, it was also possible that the pressure of the rugs against his body had been the only thing keeping him alive.

 

“Alright, listen to me if you can. You're in shock, Julian and badly injured. If you can understand me, I need you to be strong until I can assess the damage and stabilize you.” Reaching through the rugs, Gaven began to feel around using his empathic abilities to tease out the danger points as he went.

 

As he linked with Julian’s body the pain was almost unbearable, and yet Gaven focused his attention, pushing through the signals Julian's body was sending him to zero in on the damaged areas. His assessment via this approach indicated that Julian had fractured most of his ribs, bruised his kidney, shattered part of his jaw and had his face savagely beaten with other superficial wounds all over his body. Whatever had attacked him had been mercilessly violent. The most troubling was a wound on the side front of Julian’s head. This was the source of most of the bleeding, and although Gaven didn’t think he’d fractured his skull, there was always a possibility that he had or that he’d suffered brain trauma in general.

 

At least now Gaven knew he could risk moving the rugs away from him without causing further damage. As he did this, the release of heavy pressure caused Julian to sputter and open his eyes as he gasped for air.

 

“Julian! Julian, try to relax. You're severely injured. I need you to hold still.” Gaven ordered.

 

Despite this, Julian was trying to speak through his painful jaw and weakened state. “There…There…Changeling. Aboard. Danger.”

 

His rasping was barely audible.

 

“I hear you. I promise I’ll do something about it as soon as I can. I need to get you to the infirmary and alert the Captain.” At this, Gaven decided to throw all other caution to the wind.

 

Changeling on board or not, his priority was to Julian’s wellbeing.

 

“Computer, Medical Emergency at my coordinates. Dr. Gaven Ore to Captain Sisko. Sir. We have a serious problem. There is a changeling that’s been posing as Dr. Bashir. He should be considered extremely dangerous.” Gaven said.

 

“Tell me something I don’t already know, Doctor. We have a crisis of our own up here and reason to believe the suspected changeling is no longer on board. Tell me, some good news.” Sisko replied.

 

“I’ve found the real Doctor Bashir. He’s alive but gravely wounded. I’m waiting on a medical team now. Good luck, Captain. May the Prophets smile on us all. Dr. Ore, out.”

 

While Gaven had been busy searching for, discovering, and tending to the wounded Julian, the changeling impostor had by now high-jacked the Yukon and revealed himself to be heading for the nearest sun. No doubt he intended to destroy it and in one fail swoop wipe out every living thing within range their side of the warm hole. Luckily, thanks to Major Kira’s quick actions her ship was in hot pursuit. Moments later the high-jacked runabout was destroyed. They had narrowly foiled their enemies plans of mass destruction.

 

“The roundabout’s been destroyed.” Miles confirmed.

 

“If the sun had gone nova, it would have wiped out the Dominion fleets, too. Chief, scan for those warp signatures again.” Sisko ordered.

 

“Captain…”

 

“They’re gone, aren't they?” He asked in mild awe.

 

“All I’m reading is normal background radiation.” Miles confirmed.

 

“The warp signatures must have been faked.” Captain Sisko concluded. “The Dominion’s real fleet never left Cardassian space. This was all an elaborate trap——an attempt to destroy the station and Bajor, and cripple the Federation and Klingon fleets, without ever firing a shot. Tell our friends out there to stand down. Armageddon will have to wait for another day.”

Notes:

[1] “The Spider and the Flies” is a re-work of the episodes “Purgatory’s Shadow” (DS9:S5:E14) and “By Inferno’s Light” (Ds9:S5:E15). Some of the content was taken word by word from the episodes and condensed into a single chapter.

I would like to take a moment to address the original series plot twist involving Bashir presented in Episodes 14-15.

At some unknown point, Bashir was apprehended by the Dominion and held at Internment Camp 371. The concept, by the writer’s own admission, was poorly done and left a terrible couple of plot holes given they never really clarified when and how Julian Bashir was abducted. By some accounts, it was just before the events in the Episode: Rapture. If this is to be believed then that means several events including the death of the baby changeling and the birth of the O’brien’s son were actually all carried out by the Changeling impostor.

For me, that’s just too much to try and have to work around and it undermines all the emotional character development that happened in between Rapture and By Inferno’s Light. So we’re not going there. We’re going to assume that Bashir was never captured and that the Changeling posing as him infiltrated when Kira was set into the Wormhole with the Defiant to confirm the Dominion Invasion.

Chapter 13: Awakenings

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen: Awakenings

 

In the end Garak and Worf returned to the Station with a very much alive Martok. The real Martok and not the changeling imposter who had been sending all his comrades off to their doom. Ultimately their mission had been successful and Garak had been able to reunite with the mysterious Tain. Of the events that happened on the asteroid housing Internment Camp 371 only the top officers were told about. Among other things Tain had made it clear that he believed the Internment Camp was only a temporary holding place and that it was possible that other larger planet rooted prisons controlled by the Dominion could exist and that more survivors were out there somewhere of Tain’s original missing crew along with the crews of countless others. Garak had kept this tidbit of speculation to himself. Even if it were possible, and Garak had no reason to believe it wasn’t, Tain had no way of knowing where such a possible stronghold could be and without even the suggestion of possible destinations, the idea that a bigger encampment could exist on some abandoned Klingon hellhole somewhere was about as useful as a child’s grimly framed fairy tale. While interesting, it was nothing more than that.

 

In the end he accepted that there was just no way to know the truth. Even Garak’s deductive reasoning was not powerful enough to uncover the threads necessary to bring merit to the idea. Still, as with everything, Garak filed the information away in some far recess corner of his mind planning to hold onto it just in case some tendril-like lead, however narrow, did some day come to light. If it ever did, he owed it to Tain, who was his father true and to himself to follow the strand to its logical conclusion.

 

Outside of this, Garak had kept his promise to Ziyal. It was perhaps one of the few promises that he had ever unintentional kept.

 

While most everyone who was left on the station was having celebratory reunions now that their loved ones had returned, Doctor Gaven Ore was held up in the station's surgery personally doing his level best to make sure that Julian Bashir didn't die.

 

Along with his extensive injuries, Julian had been found in such an advanced state of dehydration that it was a wonder he hadn't expired just from that. He'd also lost a significant amount of blood which should have had a similar kind of effect given how long he had been laying in the carpet shop. While everyone was happy to chalk up Julian's medical status as a run of the mill miracle, Gaven knew better. He knew both by personal experience and by the subtle signs sprinkled throughout Julian's medical history that his ability to survive wasn't a miracle at all. Gaven was almost sure that Julian was alive because he was genetically Augmented. Whether his advantages included control over his bodily systems, or he was merely more robust because of his Augmentation, was hard to say. Nevertheless, Gaven was convinced of the fact by now and was not particularly bothered by it.

 

For Gaven, genetic Augmentation was practically expected on Oum. The science was the entire reason why his culture had survived and had ultimately been able to thrive under the harsh conditions of constant poly radiation exposure. Gaven was aware that the Federation of Planets regarded genetic Augmentation in a somewhat harsher light and though he didn't know the exact particulars of the political and cultural attitudes and concerns involved, Gaven had enough good sense not to confront Julian about it or reveal that he harbored any suspicions whatsoever about his genetic status. Assuming it was true, there was nothing for Gaven to gain by exposing the other doctor. Julian seemed so insistent on carrying on with his elaborate charade that Gaven felt it best to allow him to do so. It privately saddened him to suspect that Julian had spent possibly his entire existence holding back who he was and what he was really capable of. In his mind, it was both a waste and a pity. Humans were a strange race; Gaven had begun to think.

 

Besides needing a massive blood transfusion and fluids, the to the bone gash across Julian's skull needed to be carefully cleaned, closed, and watched for infection. Though there hadn't been a skull fracture, it was unclear if Julian had suffered additional brain damage. One of Julian's lungs had also collapsed and had required the temporary installment of a chest tube and ventilator. There was so much swelling across his damaged rib cage that it was amazing that Julian could breathe even with assistance. For now, Julian was in a medically induced coma. Further brain trauma would need to be assessed after he woke up and started breathing on his own again.

 

Gaven operated using a combination of astute mechanical skill and his empathic instincts. His surgical work was utterly precise and incredibly beautiful to behold. Above all else, Gaven was an absolute professional. He didn't dare let his feelings trespass over what he was trying to do. Julian's wellbeing was too important to him. Not to forget, there were quite enough concerned people who were anxiously waiting for Gaven to finish his work so that he could update them. Certainly, Gaven felt they deserved his absolute best.

 

Several hours after Julian had first been moved into surgery, a tired Gaven emerged from the operating suite to meet Julian's many friends. The most vocal of whom was Miles O'Brien.

 

"Well, Doctor? How is he? When can we see him?" Miles asked impatiently.

 

"I managed to stabilize him. He's still on a ventilator, but that's just a precaution until the swelling goes down in his chest and I know for sure there won't be any further risk of incident or infection. The next several days are critical, and for now, he's been placed in a medically induced coma for his safety. Assuming all goes well, it's possible he will make a full recovery." Gaven informed them.

 

"It's only possible? So that means you're not sure." Miles demanded.

 

"As I said, the next several days will be critical. I will be monitoring the situation, but there are simply some things brain scans won't tell us. I ask that for your own sake and Julian's, that you all be patient. I'll be able to make a complete assessment when he wakes up." Gaven reassured them.

 

"Damn those changeling bastards!" Miles yelled.

 

"Calm yourself, Chief. We are all alarmed and worried." Sisko said gravely. "What do you think, Doctor? How far along are we on our detection strategies?"

 

Gaven sighed.

 

As expected, it always came back to the same question.

 

How to stop the Dominion.

 

Righteous as that question was, Gaven, wondered how much longer things would go on before the problem became, how do we destroy the Dominion? Gaven knew some had already quietly begun to make the leap. What if they all made that leap eventually? Given what he'd personally witnessed, it wouldn't be altogether surprising. But it would be disappointing, and it would be something Gaven couldn't comply with.

 

Nevertheless, he was willing to help the Federation of Planets protect themselves from invasion because he believed in their right as beings to exist without molestation. As far as Gaven was concerned, the Changelings had become the very thing they feared most. Oh, how he bled over that knowledge given his people's unique history with the Changeling species.

 

“Doctor Bashir and I have developed our inoculation course far enough to begin phase one of our testing. I can start taking volunteers after the first clinical trials prove successful. The more diverse in species, the better.” Gaven confirmed. “But with all due respect to the station's situation, I would like to make Dr. Bashir's health and wellness my main priority for now. At least until he's conscious. I know what he means to all of you, and furthermore, he is leading the inoculation project as far as all of you and the Federation are concerned. With respect to that, I don't want to proceed too far without him if I don't have to. I'm sure you understand me, Captain.”

 

“Indeed, let's hope our resident CMO recovers quickly.” Sisko remarked.

 

There was a subtle warning in his tone that hinted, Sisko wouldn't pressure Gaven if he could avoid it but that such consideration had an expiration date under the circumstances. It was a private reminder to Gaven about what his position on the station was. He was there because the Federation of Planets required his skills and knowledge. While they were attempting to be patient and accommodating to him about appeasing their needs, it was only a matter of time before desperate necessity forced the Federation to put the squeeze on Gaven, although he owed them nothing and had no obligation whatsoever to aid them given who and what he really was. Then again during times of war, what was fair and right tended to become inconsequential. Almost everyone Gaven had met on the station came from alien races who had broken their codes of morality and ethics (if they had any, to begin with) when the going got rough enough. Humans, for example, seemed to have a long history of exploitation when it came down to matters of individual or collective survival. As high minded as the Federation's ideas had become, this was deep space they were floating about in. This was the edge of the Frontier. This was a war.

 

A battle over the issue of agency vs. Control. Both variations of the same driving agenda.

 

Collective survival.

 

~@~

 

For the next week, Gaven stayed true to his word and practically moved into the infirmary full time. With so many allied ships in the area, most of the wounded had returned to their respective people, and the station was still largely deserted and on lockdown while the station's staff tried to regroup and collaborate with Bajor and their other allies.

 

This allowed for Gaven to focus almost all his medical and personal attention on the unconscious Julian whom he hardly left alone.

 

Periodically, Julian's many friends came to see him, and it was only during such visits that Gaven seemed to break his constant vigil and leave the infirmary for short periods. After a while, some of them started to come around just so that Gaven would take some personal time for himself.

 

“Do you think Julian's going to be alright, Elim?” Ziyal asked in her childlike way that was all bald honesty and troubled innocence.

 

“Of that, I have no doubt, my dear. I have never known our Doctor Bashir to back down from a worthy challenge, and I happen to have it on good authority that he is under the care of a certifiable miracle worker where matters of one's health are concerned. Have no fear.” Garak reassured her.

 

It was, of course, a lie on Garak's part. At least so far as his confidence of Julian's fortitude was concerned. In truth Garak, like all of Julian's closest friends, was wracked with deep seeded worry that would not be decreased until Julian was fully conscious and back to his old habits. Furthermore, he knew almost nothing about the mysterious Doctor Ore outside of the information that came Garak's way via the second-hand chatter on the promenade and in Quark's regarding his many strange attributes and various contributions to the station as an obscure Federation medical specialist that until recently no one had ever heard of.

 

Being a former spy and a general busybody who liked to have a healthy awareness of all who entered his sphere, Garak had meant to make Gaven's acquaintance ever since the fight on the promenade. It was at that time that Garak had first met the man and sensed in the good Doctor a kind of pent-up ferocity that was kept under exquisitely tight control. Garak detested being indebted to anyone, especially in matters of life or death, but in this particular case, he minded the business with extra acute interest. Despite not knowing the Doctor, he had sensed some of Gaven's darker capabilities and understood that had his fight with Dukat escalated to attempted murder, Gaven would have had no qualms about subduing the unsuspecting Dukat and making good on his promise to preserve Garak's life. The thought almost made Garak regret narrowly escaping Dukat's wrath if only because it would have been delightful to hear of Dukat's embarrassment at being taken apart by a mere human man later. Furthermore, it would have been an additional treat to rub salt in Dukat's wounded pride by surviving his murderous efforts.

 

If Gaven succeeded in saving Julian Bashir's life, Garak's sense of debt to the good Doctor would be double fold and poetically complete.

 

The couple had arrived close to dinner time, intending to dine together at Quark's after they finished paying their respects to Julian. Upon departing from his bedside, they lingered awhile at a respectable distance as they watched the strange doctor whom neither was well acquainted with, return from wherever he had gone and attended to their friend. Despite his comatose state, Gaven could often be found keeping vigil at Julian's bedside quietly talking at length with the other doctor as if he were awake. Sometimes he poured over one of Julian's more troublesome unresolved medical cases or read aloud one of Julian's favorite holo-novels that Miles had recommended to him.

 

Except when visitors were present, Gaven seemed to always be at Julian's side. Sometimes, when they were utterly alone, Gaven would even break his usually stoic silence about his history and solemnly relate memories of his life while on Oum. Though he steered clear of any subjects relating to the details of his final months and rarely related stories of his bondmate outside of his service to his bondmate's house and his work in the capital where he was a scholar and specialist.

 

“He's very attentive. Don't you think?” Ziyal observed.

 

“Why yes, I do believe he is. Perhaps it is best we not disturb them further and move on with our dinner plans.” Garak suggested more for his own reasons than for anyone else’s.

 

The more he watched the Doctor painstakingly interact with Julian, the more curious he became. It was not a great secret that the doctors tended not to associate with each other much on a personal level. It was a point that was curious to Garak considering that he would have expected Julian to go out of his way to come friendly with Gaven and Open handed about details relating to the mysterious doctor. Instead Julian remained  usually tight lipped and whenever Garak tested the subject of Julian’s working relationship with Doctor Ore, Julian avoided talking about the guest doctor as promptly changed the subject. Even if Julian hadn’t been so blatantly avoidant about fielding questions related to Gaven, various rumors were being whispered more and more around the station regarding the other doctor. Most of it was speculation about who he was and how he had come to serve on the station as a civilian doctor and not as an offical Starfleet Medical Officer. It didn't take a spy as astute as Garak to realize some intrigue was going on. Still, Doctor Ore was very well liked, and now Garak could see why.

 

“I don't think I'm going to have time to come back after dinner, but you should Elim. I'm sure Julian would appreciate it, and I know how worried you are for him. Plus, you could bring Dr. Ore some dinner on your way back. I hear he's hardly left the infirmary since Julian was put under.” Ziyal encouraged him compassionately.

 

“An inspired Idea, my dear. I shall do just that. Come. Let's not delay any longer. As much as I worry for our beloved CMO, I am equally grateful for our time together especially in light of recent events.” With his eyes lingering still on Gaven's back, Garak extended his arm and eventually led them away.

 

At the very last moment, much to Garak's satisfaction, Gaven subtly gave in to the feeling he was being watched and slowly glanced behind him. For the briefest of seconds, he caught Garak boldly staring at him. This time right into his eyes, and to Garak's secret delight, Gaven subtly nodded to him. Gaven's gaze was full of intelligence and steel. In return, Garak only smiled thinly and with a bit of flare broke their eye contact immediately turning away and striking up a lively conversation with Ziyal as he swiftly led them on to Quarks.

 

Gaven made no move to catch them; under the circumstances, he did not doubt that Garak would be back.

 

~@~

 

“Rom, do you have that audio script ready yet?” Quark demanded impatiently.

 

Business had been slow allowing for the Ferengi to focus on other matters besides the bar.

 

Quark's primary interest as of late was, of course, finding out if his suspicions were correct about Doctor Gaven Ore. If it was true that he was an alien from an obscure culture somewhere, Quark thought it might be possible to corner the market on information and possibly open some unique and highly lucrative profit streams. If his planet were specifically exotic and or hard to access, the trade possibilities alone or rather the smuggling possibilities could be worth a fortune. Not to mention that the doctor's talents were limited to the station for now, but there was no telling who would come calling if it turned out the Federation was keeping an alien prodigy under their thumbs.

 

“Yeah. I got it right here. But, huh, maybe...Maybe we shouldn't listen to it. Dr. Ore seems like a nice person, and I just think...” Rom muttered with his classic uncertainty.

 

“Rom, since when have I ever encouraged you to think about anything? Who’s the business mind around here? Hm? I am. Now if it turns out there's nothing useful on there, I'll personally burn up the recording, and we'll pretend we never executed this experiment. But considering that there COULD be something useful on there, we can't very well just ignore the ninth rule of acquisition.” Quark reasoned.

 

“Opportunity plus instinct equals profit.” They both said in unison.

 

Before listening to the recorded transmission, they'd gotten from the bug in Gaven's quarters, Quark had assembled a short list of planets (there weren't many) that were known to contain life, and that circled a poly radiated sun. The list was ordered from the most well-known to the most obscure and only included five options. While many of them would be noteworthy, Quark had his hopes set for one of the more obscure options.

 

As Quark took over the task of listening to the recorded transmission, he at first was a little taken back by the intimacy his keen ears were picking up on between the subjects involved. Perhaps something was going on between the Vulcan and the good doctor after all. It was an unusual mental image but not completely surprising to Quark who had seen plenty of interesting relationship combinations come through his bar over the years.

 

Briefly distracted by the thought, Quark almost missed the first mentioning of the planet Oum as Cheval and Gaven spoke about their respective meditation practices.

 

But when the men began to discuss an apparent freighter attack, they'd survived together, Quark caught the mentioning of the planet Oum and that Gaven had been in stasis when the Breen had attacked them. The information that followed was not particularly detailed, but it bespoke of great tragedy and personal pain. Among other things, it confirmed that Gaven was indeed not human and that his presence on Deep Space Nine was not an accident. It seemed as if the Federation had recruited or compelled the doctor to assist them in their efforts against the Dominion and that Gaven felt he had no choice but to comply. Like Cheval, Quark shared in the perspective that none of it sounded very fair or particularly right. But then again, they were living in confusing and desperate times.

 

“So, he's an Oum. I gotta admit he's caught me by surprise there.” Quark remarked.

 

“What are we going to do about it, brother? It sounds like the Federation is trying to keep his identity a big secret.” Rom observed.

 

“Nothing for now.” Quark muttered slyly. “These sorts of things tend to become public knowledge eventually, and then we might be in for an interesting ride. I have to hand it to our good doctor; he's taking it all in stride. But everyone's got their breaking point. I'd be interested to see him hit his. With any luck he may end up being more right about his value then he knows. As for us, we should observe Rule of Acquisition two hundred eight. Doctor Ore stirs up a Hell of a lot of questions, and I'm willing to lay down odds that the answers are more dangerous to know then the questions are to ask.”

 

~@~

 

Julian Bashir remained in his medically induced coma for ten days. It was just long enough for his substantial injuries to heal enough to bring him out of immediate danger. When it was time to bring him out of it, Gaven notified the Captain and requested his presence. It was agreed between them that they would hold off on inviting anyone else until Julian could decide for himself who he wanted to see.

 

“Well, doctor what do you think?” Sisko asked upon surveying Julian in the isolation room.

 

“Physically he should recover without further complication. His brain scans show a healthy amount of activity, but I want to stress that there may be issues we won't be able to see until he wakes up and begins his mental and emotional recovery. It's unclear what he will and won't remember about the attack. I have reason to believe the attack on Dr. Bashir was specifically vicious. The changeling that attacked him intentionally hurt him in ways that would prolong suffering. When he comes to, he may have a violent reaction to waking up. He also may or may not be able to communicate effectively.” Gaven neglected to tell the Captain that Julian Bashir should have died from his injuries before they found him.

 

“Thank you, Doctor. I understand. Please proceed and let me know how I may be of additional help.” Sisko agreed.

 

Gaven nodded and began the process of reversing the coma. In most cases, it could take hours for a patient to come out of a medically induced coma, and the process was more gradual as the body came back online at its own pace. Again, Gaven had refrained from mentioning that Julian's brain scans had been abnormally active the entire time he was under. Given that Julian was an Augment, this did not surprise him and was the reason Gaven had gone above and beyond to engage Julian as much as possible while he was unconscious. Gaven suspected that Julian would come out of his coma almost immediately and that the experience of waking up would prove dramatic. As Gaven administered the final part of the process, he gripped Julian firmly at the wrist so that he could open a biological link with him and monitor his biological response. Thanks to this Gaven knew the exact second Julian became consciously aware and was able to anticipate his adrenaline filled reaction.

 

As Julian shot up on the med bay bed with his eyes wide open and blazing, Gaven caught him across the chest and firmly demanded that he remain calm and try to breathe.

 

“Julian, you're all right. You need to stay calm, or I'll have to sedate you. Don't try to speak. You're still injured, and the Captain and I don't want you to hurt yourself.” Gaven didn't let go of him, and after a tense thirty seconds, Julian did allow Gaven to ease him back down on the medi-bed as he tried to curb his mania turning his face away from the Captain and squeezing his eyes shut without saying anything.

 

“I want you to know, Doctor, that the changeling threat has been neutralized. The changeling that attacked you is dead, and for now, the station is safe. On behalf of your many friends and colleagues, we want you to focus on getting well, and we're all grateful that you're still with us.” The Captain reassured him.

 

“Julian, I know you're afraid right now, but it's over. I promise.” Gaven rested his free hand across Julian's forehead and leaned down, his other hand still firmly covering Julian's wrist as he silently urged him to try and relax.

 

“Do you want something for the pain?” He asked in a low firm tone.

 

Thanks to the biological link that was still fully engaged, Gaven could feel what Julian biologically felt as sensory awareness of the part of him still actively healing came forward.

 

At this question, Julian opened his eyes, and though they were filled with tears, he managed to look Gaven in the face and nod slightly.

 

“Fine. I'll take care of it. I'm going to speak to the Captain now. Can you hold out for a minute or do you want me to administer something right away?” Gaven wanted to give Julian the option of dealing with his suffering in privacy rather than in front of the Captain.

 

His slight head movements told Gaven he wanted to wait until the Captain was gone.

 

“I hear you. I'll take care of it.” Gaven promised.

 

Reluctantly, Gaven broke the link which served to intensify Julian's discomfort once he wasn't sharing the burden of his biological impulses with Gaven.

 

“Captain, If I could speak to you over here.” Gaven stood and adjusted his plain uniform encouraging the Captain to step just outside the room with him.

 

“He's in pain and needs to sleep. I want to give him a few more days to rest and come back into himself, and I want to run some cognitive tests to make sure his language and thought centers are fully intact. I will leave it up to you to alert his family and friends to his condition, but for now, I want to avoid a lot of guests until Julian asks to see people.” Gaven said.

 

“Of course. Thank you, Doctor. Was there anything else you wanted to say?” Sisko asked.

 

“Yes. As you might imagine it could take several weeks for Doctor Bashir to be service ready again. Possibly longer if his mental state proves hard to cope with, I think it might be wise to bring in a temporary Starfleet doctor to take on his workload. I'm certainly capable of carrying on as an assistant doctor here but you and I both know why that might prove complicated later. I just...This charade is becoming more complex than I feel comfortable with. While my medical skill level has been proven comparable to what is expected of a Starfleet doctor, I just think it might be best to limit my exposure here. The people of Deep Space Nine may not appreciate being lied to all this time if the truth ever becomes known.” Gaven admitted.

 

“I understand your feelings, Doctor. Starfleet has been notified of the situation and is taking steps, but the conflict at hand is making it difficult to pull needed staff from other Starships. Until we can get some more help here, you may prove to be the best option we have. I want you to know that my officers appreciate what you've done for us and the sacrifice you’re making for everyone involved. You're a good man if I do say so off the record. When you have time would you stop by my office? I would like to discuss some things with you.” Sisko asked.

 

“Of course, Captain. Once Julian is stable and resting, I'll make an appearance. Thank you for your kind words. I do appreciate them.” Gaven agreed stoically. “Now if you'll excuse me. I must attend to my patient.”

 

Sending the Captain on his way, Gaven scoffed under his breath at his situation and returned to Julian side. Though he was trying to keep still, Julian was thrashing slightly and trying to hold back his discomfort.

 

“I'm sorry, Julian. I shouldn't have delayed. You'll feel better in a minute. Hold on.” Gaven moved to set up a hypo-spray of pain relief that he intended to mix with a sedative but was delayed when Julian tried to grip at his arm.

 

“D-don't sed-ate me.” He murmured in a voice hoarse and broken from lack of use.

 

“Fine. But you need pain relief. I can't guarantee it won't knock you out once it's administered.” Gaven warned him quietly and calmly.

 

“St-st-.” He tried to plead.

 

Gaven sighed and pulled up a stool settling down beside him after dosing him with the hypo-spray.

 

“I won't leave you. Just try to relax for a while and conserve your strength. I'm going to keep you well and safe. You have my word.” Gaven promised.

Chapter 14: Misgivings

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen: Misgivings

 

It didn't take long for Julian to settle and fall into a deep sleep. Deep enough that Gaven felt comfortable letting him rest without his constant observation. Gaven planned to do a full medical assessment of Julian once he awoke, but in the meantime, he planned to make good on his agreement to see the Captain. The attack on Julian Bashir had brought something out in Gaven he hadn't anticipated. Attachment.

 

 

Attachment to any of the officers on Deep Space Nine felt like dangerous territory. Attachment to anyone with ties to Starfleet felt dangerous mostly because at the end of the day Gaven was without a planet or real affiliation with anyone or anything. While he admired most of the alien races and individuals he'd encountered so far and respected their beliefs, Gaven was an Oum. An alien not affiliated with the Federation of Planets and not bound by their moral and ethical rules and attitudes. If the people of Deep Space Nine ever discovered who and what he was, how would they react? Gaven suspected many of the alien civilians wouldn't care so much. But the humans? The officers he was helping take care of and protect?

 

Furthermore, there was always the possibility that Gaven might decide for one reason or another to stop helping the Federation and it was unclear what could happen if he quit. Would they try to compel him? Label him an enemy or a security risk? Throw him away into the universe as if what he'd already done for them didn't matter? It was hard to know what could happen. But what he did know is that his growing attachment to some of the people working on the station was becoming a problem.

 

Gaven appeared in the Captain's office just before brunch.

 

“Captain. I've dropped in as I promised. Is this a good time to speak to you?” Gaven asked in his stoic manner.

 

“Yes. Please come in, Doctor. Can I get you something to eat or drink?” Benjamin asked kindly.

 

“Huh. No. Thank you.” Gaven replied not yet sitting as he leaned into the wall near the door.

 

“Come and sit down then.” Benjamin encouraged.

 

 

After Gaven complied, Benjamin went on. “Well. How are you doing with everything? I know things have been somewhat chaotic since you've arrived, and it hasn't been very easy for you.”

 

Gaven sighed. “Things have been better in some ways. I don't regret agreeing to come here. You were right about the good I could do on the station, and I'm glad you convinced your chain of command that it was wise I be placed here. You're people...”

 

Gaven wanted to express how impressed he was with everyone he'd met on Deep Space Nine and how deserving they were of praise, but he couldn't quite bring himself to be so forward. To allow his respect and admiration to sound too personal. “Everyone has been very cooperative and kind to me. I admit it’s been...Surprising.”

 

“Well, you're very well liked and admired on this station by many people. I would go as far as to say that you've become a regular figure in our day to day lives. I can't imagine how difficult it's been for you since leaving Oum. But it's been my hope that you've found a sense of stability being here. Starfleet has been more than impressed with your contributions. I hope you realize that your private work has been impactful. Your unique insights may help us achieve new medical breakthroughs and biological understandings across many landscapes.” Benjamin went on.

 

Gaven said nothing to any of this. Most of his projects were just something to keep him interested and occupied while on the station. The fact that they were proving beneficial to anyone else was not something he thought about very deeply.

 

“Which brings me to why I wanted to speak to you.” Benjamin said at length. “Have you thought much about your future since being on the station?”

 

Gaven nodded. “I haven't committed to any specific course. Under the circumstances, how could I? Who I am is a carefully guarded secret, and the work I'm doing is contingent on the changing tides of the Dominion conflict. With that being said, I have cultivated some limited ties with Gulba IV, and representatives of Vulcan have expressed that I would be welcome to resettle myself on their home-world as well. Though being that they are a Federation planet, their open-handed sentiments could change.”

 

“You seem overly concerned that the Federation might lose faith in you.” Benjamin observed.

 

“What is that old Earth saying, Captain? Something about not looking a gift horse in the mouth. I'm concerned that I may not always be able to be so forthcoming with my knowledge and skills and that if I were ever to halt my contributions, I would perhaps no longer find myself in Starfleet’s good graces nor find any special sympathy among the Federation of planets in general. We both know that if things get desperate enough, all ethical decorum could be swiped from the table simply as a matter of survival. I don't ever allow myself to forget that I'm just one man. An alien in an unfamiliar quadrant that's without a people or a real place in this universe. Understand me when I say I'm not blind to what that means.” Gaven said evenly.

 

“Well, contrary to how it must feel, you're not obligated to do anything for anyone. It's true that the Federation has been eager to enlist your help and that they perhaps have been a bit hasty with their treatment of you. But rest assured, you are still a free-thinking individual and, as I promised you at the beginning of all this, I have every intention of reminding people of that fact and holding them to it. You may not have a planet to call your own anymore, but you do have rights as an individual and... You do have friends.” Sisko said in a manner that hinted he knew that Gaven didn't exactly see it that way.

 

“I know it bothers you greatly to continue your work and life under the guise of something you're not.” Benjamin acknowledged.

 

“No. It's been a necessary aspect. And it was my request to conceal my origins. I may not be a citizen of Oum anymore, but I do have an obligation to preserve my people's cultural wishes regarding what information is shared about my home planet and culture. Some would already say I've revealed too much. In hindsight, I admit that I sometimes wonder if it was a mistake to bring about this masquerade. Nevertheless, what’s done is done. I intend to see it through.” Gaven informed him.

 

“If I may say so, I think you're incredibly hard on yourself.” Benjamin observed patiently. “I believe you have much to offer the universe and that you deserve to be accepted for who you really are. You have already proven yourself to be a talented man of principles, discipline, and sacrifice. I've kept Starfleet abreast of your many contributions not just to this station but to others you've helped. The leaders on Gulba IV have extended complimentary words as well as the Vulcan ambassadors.”

 

“Have they? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Captain, with all due respect, can we move on from my various merits and get to the point of why you've really asked me here?” Gaven insisted.

 

“Yes, of course. You should know that I've issued a formal recommendation to Starfleet on your behalf, and I wanted to tell you that I've since received word from my chain of command that Starfleet would be interested in finding a medical or scientific commission for you if you wanted it.” Benjamin revealed.

 

“I'm being invited to join Starfleet.” Gaven looked genuinely surprised.

 

“If you were to accept you would be required to go through some formal training, but your preliminary equivalency tests show more than an adequate aptitude for specializing in your preferred field range of talent and interest. It's very probable you could skip certain aspects of the training and be assigned almost directly to a commissioned position of your choice.” Sisko explained. “It's an opportunity to begin again in a place you'd be supported.”

 

It took a long time for Gaven to process what the Captain was offering him and for several minutes they sat together in silence as Gaven thought about what he wanted to say next.

 

Sisko allowed him this contemplative leeway knowing it was something that cut to the quick for the other man.

 

“Captain,” Gaven said at length and as carefully as possible. “Your gracious esteem honors me, but I must decline.”

 

“Alright. Do you want to talk about why?” Sisko asked.

 

Gaven groaned and stood up so that he could turn about in the room. Despite all the progress he'd made in the many months, he'd been on the station glimpses of the grave, and the disturbed man that Gaven had been when he first arrived began to flicker in his countenance once more.

 

“I can't become one of you. Please don't misunderstand me, Captain. From what I've learned about your people, about what the Federation is and what it stands for, I will admit a certain affection for what the Federation has achieved and admiration for the many worlds and people that are part of it. It is astounding to know such things in the universe exist, but that doesn't mean that it's wise for me to become a part of it. Even by way of such an organization such as Starfleet. I...I don't belong there. I am an Oum and still hold to many Oum ideals and standards. If I were to join Starfleet and become an adopted member of the Federation, I would truly have to abandon every part of the world of which I used to belong. I won't do that. But for now, I will continue to help you, and when I have exhausted what I can do, I will leave Deep Space Nine.” Gaven insisted.

 

“If that's what you want. The offer is open-ended as of now so if you ever change your mind...” Sisko urged amicably.

 

“How is Dr. Bashir doing?” Sisko asked. Changing the subject.

 

He noticed that Gaven stopped pacing at the mentioning of Julian's name and seemed to relax a little.

 

“He's sleeping for now and was talking. It's a good sign. I have reason to believe he may remember his attack in some detail, and he needs more time to heal physically and emotionally. Assuming all his cognitive abilities are intact, I anticipate a swift enough recovery, but there may be long term effects. I recommend he get some counseling and be fully evaluated before he returns to work. I trust Starfleet has protocols about these things, so I'll leave it up to you and them to make actual decisions about his long-term care.” Gaven encouraged.

 

“I see you're still focused on pulling back your work in the clinic. I’ve been reading the reports you’ve been sending in, and though you don’t say it outright, I’ve been reading through the lines and see that you're concerned.” Sisko observed.

 

“Yes. Though you needed the help, I feel it has perhaps been a mistake to embed myself as deeply as I have among your personnel. I'm not a certified Starfleet doctor. A doctor is a professional term I never thought to even apply to myself. It certainly wasn't a title I owned on Oum.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Nevertheless, you are a healer and a worthy scientist very capable of rivaling even some of my top people in your given specialties. Is your skill level common on your planet?” Sisko asked out of purely personal interest.

 

Gaven scoffed. “Everyone physically capable on Oum is educated in the foundations of healing though not all of us pursue it to the same degree. It's elementary for us because most of the people of Oum have some personal afflictions that must be regularly managed medically and emotionally.”

 

“And Oum, like you? Is it common among your class?” Sisko asked more gently.

 

“Of course.” Gaven said too lightly. “Bondservant's like me have an obligation to care for the Oum we are bound to. We are trained from birth to do whatever is necessary to preserve the lives of those we are responsible for. Some Oum with a particularly great need could have more than one attendant all fully capable of medical intervention, as many as five or six. All are selected to be genetically compatible with the primary Oum and trained accordingly to care for them.”

 

Genetically compatible.” Sisko echoed. “Fascinating. Excuse me if I'm being presumptuous, but you're saying bond-servants are expected to be...”

 

Gaven saw Benjamin struggle to find the right phrasing but knew what he wanted to know.

 

“Yes. If necessary, we willingly give up our lives for our Bondmasters offering our tissues and such. But it's rarely that desperate anymore.” Gaven reassured him.

 

“You were more than Just a bondservant though.” Sisko pointed out.

 

“you're right. My Bondmaster was also my Bondmate, or rather, I was his. It means I had permission from the government to carry his genetic offspring that would be later entitled to the inheritance of his titles and property.” Gaven clarified.

 

“Only a carrier.” Sisko ruminated.

 

Gaven nodded. “Not a genetic contributor. As I’ve explained, the Oum are very particular about what they create. I’d only be allowed to contribute my genetics to an Oum host with a similar classification as my own.”

“I see. Thank you for answering my questions.” Sisko said.

 

“You're welcome, Captain. It’s...Nice to be able to speak about my culture so openly. We should do it again sometime. Maybe next time you can explain this human game called baseball I've been reading about.” Gaven said pleasantly.

 

“Careful, Doctor. I may do one better and convince you to join my team.” Sisko teased in a tone that was only slightly in jest.

 

“Well, I must go. I want to be there when Julian wakes up and begin his cognitive tests. Thank you for making time for me and for saving a place for me too...On your team. It does mean something to me.” Gaven assured him standing and preparing to leave.

 

“Gaven, before you run away, I want you to know that I've contacted another doctor who has agreed to stand in for Dr. Bashir temporarily. If you no longer want to take on rounds in the infirmary, you won't have to, but I’d like you to wait long enough for the other Doctor to settle in.” Sisko remarked.

 

“Yes. Of course.” Gaven bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Captain. For once again respecting my wishes and acknowledging my feelings.”

 

“Anytime, Doctor.” Sisko stood and showed Gaven out watching him until he vanished entirely into the station.

 

“Until later, Pinocchio.” Sisko said to himself before shaking his head and returning to his seat.

 

~@~

 

Gaven swiftly returned to the infirmary, relieved to see that Julian was still asleep. It gave Gaven a chance to steal away into his office for a while and think about what he'd exchanged with the Captain. Did Gaven want to leave Deep Space Nine, now or in the future? What did he want? There were merits to what Benjamin was offering him. Gaven could carry on his scientific pursuits, for example, and do so in an environment where he could work openly and collaboratively. Though Gaven had never owned the title of Doctor on Oum, the Captain was correct in that Gaven was a healer and so far, had conclusively demonstrated himself to be worthy of professional consideration. The medical equivalency exams he'd taken before coming to the station proved his competences in medicine and his preferred scientific specialties. Overall, the training would more likely than not only involve what was required to get Gaven fully up to speed with Starfleet's regulations and operations. Even with all that was also possible, he could come on board as a civilian; however, since Gaven was not a member of a Federation planet, he would likely have to apply for citizenship status somewhere first.

 

Gaven had to admit that he found profound satisfaction in the occupation of Doctor and Scientist and his time on Deep Space Nine had afforded him one of his deepest dreams. To seek out and celebrate the varied life present in the universe. And yet with all that considered Gaven knew in his heart of hearts that he didn't want to pursue that path. The price he'd paid on Oum had been too high to rope himself into another collaborative network of societies simply because it was easy.

 

Gaven saw himself as an alien thrust into a foreign quadrant. He was perhaps the first known Oum to break his cultural practices and be placed in a position where he could learn and explore off his world. Or at least, he was the first of his time. For this reason alone, Deep Space Nine could not become his permanent home. Deep down Gaven understood that much about his future if nothing else.

 

As he ruminated about his situation, Gaven heard something stir outside of his office. The noise was too subtle to be Julian. Getting up with his crutch resting in his office, Gaven had gotten into the habit of limping about in small spaces rather than always relying on the crutch for support. He left his office to follow the sound.

 

“Well,” Gaven said. “I think you must be feeling much better. Attempting to stretch a bit, eh?”

 

The sound had been coming from the lab where the changeling baby had been sitting in its container surrounded by a force field. The container was now on its side and had become too small to hold the changeling who had doubled in size effectively. Now the creature was moving along the perimeter of the force field as if examining its limits.

 

“Odo is going to be very happy to see your progress, little one. I think its high time he takes you home.”

 

~@~

 

 “By the Prophets, this is so exciting.” Kira exclaimed as she helped Odo ready his quarters before he headed to the infirmary to pick up his new guest.

 

“Yes. I must admit it is exciting. While taking on the regular care of the changeling baby was the obvious plan, I must say I'm as nervous as I am happy. I haven't lived with anyone since my time with Dr. Mora and, that aside, I find myself both...Giddy and terrified.” Odo admitted.

 

“Aw. You just described parenthood. Everything you're feeling is perfectly natural. No parent knows exactly what they're doing when they first start. But that's part of the fun of it. I know it must feel scary given you don't exactly have any template for raising a changeling, but it's not like you weren't a baby yourself once. When in doubt try to pull from personal experience.” Kira encouraged him.

 

“Yes, well my experiences weren't exactly ideal, as you know. Nevertheless, I see your point.” Odo agreed. “I heard Doctor Bashir is awake.”

 

“I'm glad of it. I can't believe the changeling who attacked him stowed away when I was coming back to the station.” Kira remarked.

 

“You shouldn't blame yourself. It's inevitable that some Dominion operatives would infiltrate here. The trick in the future will be to make sure that we know about it when they do. I love my people Kira, But I can't condone such blatant savagery. Anyone that comes to this station intending to cause malicious harm must be stopped and properly dealt with. I'm only glad this time the station was able to avoid disaster.” Odo said.

 

“You know, you shouldn't blame yourself either for this. You're not responsible for what the Dominion has done.” Kira reminded him gently.

 

“Yes. I know. For myself, I never worry. But when I think of the possibility that the Federation may one day look at this new changeling as a threat, I sometimes wonder just what I could be responsible for. It's only a courtesy that I'm being allowed to take charge of the changeling. Albeit many would love nothing more than to see it locked away in some science compound somewhere. The reality is that they could change their minds at any time.” Odo explained.

 

“Odo,” Kira stepped up to him and gripped him by the shoulders. “I have every faith that you are going to raise this changeling to respect and appreciate the life and people around it. Just as much as you do.”

 

“Thank you, Nerys. I dearly hope you're right.” He said softly.

 

Kira smiled warmly and pulled away. “Well? Come on, Papa. Let's bring baby home.”

 

~@~

 

Gaven was still working in his office when Kira and Odo arrived and quietly came out to greet them.

 

“Hello, Constable. Major.” Gaven was genuinely pleased to see them but as usual, kept his face reserved and tone polite. “Well, are you ready for this?”

 

Kira and Odo exchanged stoic looks that eventually eased into smiles.

 

“He’s ready.” Kira finally remarked. “You can do this, Odo.”

 

“Yes.” Gaven agreed. “You’re the best person to undertake this adventure. Come on. Let’s go see.”

 

In light of the things that had been going on in the station, Odo had not been able to visit the infirmary as much as he would have liked, and it had been nearly five days since he’d checked on the changeling last.

 

“There we are.” Gaven said happily.

 

Odo lowered the shielding on the containment room and stepped inside. His surprise was evident.

 

“Why...You’ve gotten so big. I guess it’s a good thing I thought to get you your own bucket. These lab containers won't do anymore.” Odo remarked slowly approaching the blob who upon realizing he was there immediately moved towards him in a puddle the size of a bike tire.

 

“Now now. When we’re in mixed company it's polite to try and take a recognizable shape, Come on now. Show the good doctor and Kira what we've been practicing. You can do it. I’m right here.” Odo encouraged it.

 

To everyone’s satisfaction the changeling slowly doubled upon itself and for a few minutes took a very loose humanoid shape about the size of a toddler. As of yet, there were no distinguishable features or digits, but it was an impressive display, nevertheless.

 

“Look how capable they are already. Do you know it took Dr. Mora over a year to get me to take a similar shape?” Odo said with excited pride.

 

“The progress is indeed impressive. You have a sharp one on your hands, which reminds me. Have you thought about a name?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Huh. Well. Not really. I mean I thought maybe I’d wait and let them pick one for themselves.” Odo admitted on the fly.

 

“Odo, I don't think anyone wants to go around referring to this one as “the changeling” all the time. Maybe you should consider just a temporary nickname. You have one, after all.” Kira reasoned.

 

“It would be preferable to have a name to put down in the records but if you want to wait...” Gaven reassured him patiently.

 

“I admit it’s not a bad thought I’m just not sure what I would pick.” Odo admitted.

 

“Your name is derived from a Cardassian word, is it not?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Yes...When I was discovered before Dr. Mora realized I was a life form I was held in a beaker marked “unknown sample” the Cardassians chose to interpret this into the word “Odo’ital. Loosely translated it means “Nothing.” Odo explained. “For this little one though I think we can come up with something better. Maybe a Bajoran word. Something like...Kajel.” Odo said at length.

 

Kira looked visibly surprised.

 

Seeing her expression, Odo began to reconsider. “Well, it was just one idea...Maybe something else.”

 

“No.” Kira said as she recovered herself a little at took Odo by the shoulders. “Odo, I think Kajel is a beautiful name for this changeling. You should keep it for now.”

 

Gaven didn’t inquire, but it was clear by his expression that the significance of the word was lost on him.

 

“Alright, Nyres. Kajel it is then.” Glancing at the doctor, he then clarified. “In the Bajoran language, Kajel means Freedom.”

 

“I'm sure Odo that you will do very well with the little one. I'm pleased you'll be taking them off my hands.” Gaven remarked warmly.

 

“I must say, Dr. Ore. I appreciate what you've done for Kajel and I. None of this would have been possible without your influence. You must come by and see us. It's possible that you know more about the changeling species than almost anyone within the Federation. I might...Like you're perspective now and again.” Odo remarked.

 

Gaven's brows arched subtly.

 

“I only know as much as what's been passed down through the generations of my people, Mr. Odo. I'm by no means a practical expert. But I confess, I would like to keep an eye on your progress and, of course, if I can be of any assistance...It would make me happy to help you where I can.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Speaking of helping people, how is Dr. Bashir doing?” Odo asked seriously.

 

“Fine. I think he's going to be fine in time. He's out of the coma, and I'm sure in a few more days he'll be up to telling all of you how he feels for himself.” Gaven informed them carefully as to preserve Julian's privacy.

 

“We're all glad to hear it,” Odo remarked. “Take care of him, Doctor. If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get Kajel home. Kira?”

 

“I'll be along in a bit, Odo. Go ahead.” Kira encouraged him.

 

Once Odo was gone Kira turned to face Gaven again. “You look tired, Gaven. Have you been feeling alright? The hours you've been pulling here in the infirmary are ridiculous. I know the station's been short staffed, and you've been focused on taking care of Julian which I'm sure everyone is grateful to you for, but...”

 

“The Captain has sent for a replacement doctor to pick up the slack here in the infirmary. I'm just holding things over for a few more days before he arrives. I'm sure you're aware of my original intentions to scale back my professional capacities such as they are here on Deep Space Nine.” Gaven confessed. “I can't deny that I've been...Overextending myself lately. Considering everything that's happened, I don't regret any of it, but...”

 

“Maybe when things settle down you should take a break. Maybe travel. Bajor is just a transport away. It's not like you'd have to go far if you didn't want to.” Kira suggested.

 

“I'll keep that in mind. I've been reading about Bajor. Your people are truly admirable.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Bajor has come a long way since the Cardassian occupation. In many ways, we're still recovering. Anyway, you should come over sometime, and we'll talk. Seriously though, I think you deserve a rest after all this. We need more people like you in the universe. Don't forget that.” Kira chastised gently.

 

Gaven scoffed and nodded his head. A reserved smile settled over his features. “Thank you, Nerys. Keep an eye on Odo for me. We'll talk soon. I promise.”

 

“I plan to hold you to that, Doctor.” Kira said with mock authority before they both broke out into a chuckle and Kira took her leave.

 

Chapter 15: The Good Doctor's Repose

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifteen: The Good Doctor’s Repose

 

Sighing to himself once Kira had left, Gaven limped back into his office intending to try and get some actual work done before he checked in on Julian again. Kira was right in her assessment. Gaven felt more fatigued than usual. His movements were stiffer than normal, and as he limped back into his office, he leaned more heavily on his forearm crutch for support as he went. Gaven had felt unwell when he'd woken up that morning. Nothing too serious just slightly off color. The tea and toast he’d replicated earlier that morning were still sitting at his desk utterly untouched and looking neglected. His appetite had been poor the last few days, and that morning he hadn't wanted to eat at all.

 

Just as he was sitting down the computer alerted him to the fact that he had an incoming transmission from Bajor he’d been expecting. It was no doubt from Cheval.

 

“Greetings Doctor Ore. I hope you are well.” The Vulcan said.

 

“I am, Cheval.” Gaven lied. “It’s good to hear your voice and see you. I presume your retreat to Bajor since the conflict has been uneventful. When are you coming back?”

 

“On the next transport. With your permission, I would like to come to see you directly as soon as I arrive.” There was the slightest tinge of urgency in the Vulcan’s tone.

 

“Of course. Come straight away.” Gaven agreed.

 

“Very well. Expect me for dinner.” Cheval agreed before ending the transmission.

 

Gaven smiled self-indulgently at the thought of seeing Cheval again. In the chaos of the recent Dominion attack, Cheval had fled off the station along with countless other civilians, and neither of them had had the time or opportunity to check in with each other or say goodbye. It was something to look forward to now that he was due to return.

 

Gaven was able to get about another hour of work in before the monitor at his desk indicated that Julian was waking up again. Easing up out of his chair he left his office to check on him.

 

Julian didn't notice Gaven arrive in the room at first. He wasn't fully awake yet and looked fitful and distressed. Deep circles were visible under his eyes and the side of his head where the gash had been closed was cut back making his hair look unkempt and his visage vulnerable despite the superb expertise of the regenerator that would eventually ensure the wound healed with minimal scarring. Julian was presently curled into a slight ball with the blanket crumpled around his neck as if he'd been gripping it in his sleep. Interestingly, he was laying on his bad side as if he hoped burrowing his head into the edge of the med bed would lessen the throb of knitted flesh.

 

“Julian,” Gaven said firmly. “It's time to wake up.”

 

At first, Julian didn't stir, but after a minute or two of silence between them he finally groaned and eased onto his back.

 

“What time is it?” Julian asked hoarsely.

 

“About ten hundred.” Gaven confirmed. He liked to go by civilian time, but for Julian's sake, he stuck to the standard military time used by Starfleet. It seemed easier. “How do you feel?”

 

“Like Hell.” Julian muttered lowly.

 

“Very descriptive, Doctor.” Gaven replied flatly. “How much pain are you in?”

 

Julian didn't reply immediately.

 

Gaven could tell he had woken into a black mood. Something far deeper then generic pain or even depression was at work. Julian was angry, Gaven surmised.

 

Nearing him slowly, Gaven stopped just short of Julian's bedside. Close enough to glance at the monitor readings of the med bed, but not so close as to risk upsetting the other doctor with his nearness.

 

“I hate when you do that.” Julian muttered unexpectedly.

 

“Care to be more specific?” Gaven dryly asked as he adjusted one of the medi sensors.

 

“When you play the circumspect servant. The way you cautiously hover and feign polite indifference. The way you hold yourself back in waiting. Your damned self-deprecating air that you hide behind. It's exhausting. I wish you'd just...Give it a rest once in a while.” Julian muttered irritably.

 

“I see your mental faculties are firing at full cylinder today. If you think you are going to get out of a full neurological exam and EEG, you can just let go of that idea right now.” Gaven said evenly choosing not to respond to his observation. “Do you want to try some breakfast first or are we going to get straight into it today?”

 

“Stop side stepping me.” Julian hissed.

 

“I'll think about it when you manage to shake this beastly attitude you've decided to adopt this morning. Why don't we get back to dealing with your pain, then we'll try some clear broth and dry toast? Afterward, we'll start the exam and get the EEG over with. I'm tired today and would like to spend a night in my quarters for once.” Gaven's tone indicated he was no longer giving Julian a choice in the business.

 

“I'm not hungry.” Julian petulantly said.

 

“Fine. Then we'll start the exam and the EEG. I'm asking you to cooperate. Once we're done, you can carry on as you like.” Gaven encouraged him to raise the medi bed to an upward position as Gaven pulled up the nearest wheeled stool.

 

Despite his bad mood, Julian caught the very subtle signs of mental strain and physical fatigue Gaven was experiencing. It was hard to tell if it was merely a matter of him being overworked or if it was a sign that Gaven was not well that morning. It would be like him to go making himself sick for the sake of others. The latter was a bad habit Gaven would have to learn to break someday, Julian thought disapprovingly.

 

“Well? Let us begin.” Gaven began by testing Julian's alertness and attention span. “Please tell me the names of earth's months.”

 

Dutifully Julian repeated the twelve months of the earth year.

 

“Good. Now repeat them in reverse order.” Gaven challenged.

 

To his satisfaction, Julian rattled them off even faster in backward order. It was good to see his sense of pride was still firmly intact.

 

“Now spell transcontinental forward and then backward for me please.” Usually, Gaven would have used a much simpler word, but he knew now that Julian was much more advanced than the average human and he wanted to test him at an appropriate level of ability.

 

Julian glared at him but did as he was asked with perfect results.

 

It was time to test his sense of orientation. “Please tell me your name? Where are you? And the date?”

 

Julian rolled his eyes.

 

“My name is Julian Bashir. I'm laid up in the infirmary on Deep Space Nine located in the Alpha Quadrant.” He went on to recite the proper year and then computed the most probable date. All were accurate.

 

“I'm going to give you three words, and in five minutes I want you to repeat them back to me. The words are BALL, HAT, and SAN FRANCISCO. Repeat them back for me and then I'll begin the timer.” Gaven instructed. “Now please tell me who the Captain is on Deep Space Nine and who was in charge of the station before the Captain.”

 

Growing annoyed with the testing, Julian began to rattle off the desired information and for good measure added in extra factual details until the time ran out.

 

“Do you recall the three words I asked you to remember?” Gaven inquired.

 

“BALL, HAT, SAN FRANCISCO.” Julian repeated.

 

“Please do as I direct you to do as I say them. Look down. Look up. Point to the door. Point to the ceiling. Point to the source of illumination in this room.” As Julian did these things, Gaven perceived that his hands tremored when he tried to hold them in their positions. Gaven didn't think it was a sign of mental damage as much as it was a sign of emotional strain and physical fatigue. Nevertheless, he would have to run other tests to make sure Julian's nervous system hadn't been damaged in some way.

 

Gaven went on to have Julian identify the components of several common things around the room and also had him repeat back words and phrases of varying complexity. He then had Julian read from a datapad and identify some common pictures on it. He went on and tested Julian with some standard mathematical calculations. Tested his ability to discern left from right and went through other basic sequence testing. As they went, he noticed Julian's hand tremors slowly increased. Gaven monitored this through the remainder of the examination. He was noting among other things Julian's uncharacteristic agitation. His depressive mood and his mild disinterest in covering for his abilities which Gaven knew were more advanced than anyone else suspected.

 

Gaven tested his reflexes and vision and recorded his findings diligently as he went. They worked together until Julian's patience wore out and Gaven thought it best to stop and not push him further for the time being.

 

“Well? What's your professional opinion, Doctor?” Julian's tone was clipped.

 

“Your physical endurance is remarkable, but your emotional state is unstable.” Gaven commented honestly. “My recommendation would be as much rest and as little stress as possible.”

 

“Unstable.” Julian scoffed.

 

“Mental health is not my area of expertise, but I know trauma when I see it, and so do you. I'll leave it up to Starfleet to decide for themselves. Right now, my job is to heal your body. Do you want a pain killer yet?”

 

Julian sighed and nodded as he laid back on the medi bed.

 

Gaven dutifully fixed a hypo-spray and administered it to him.

 

“By the way. You will eat something today, Julian. I can't leave the infirmary until you do.” Gaven insisted.

 

“Yes, yes. Clear broth and white toast. You have my word. Just not right now.” He muttered. The fatigue was evident in his tone.

 

“Fine. While you're resting, I might as well start the EEG. After, I'll leave you alone for the day.” Gaven promised him.

 

The men worked in silence for another hour or so. In that time, Julian's mood slowly relaxed, and by the end of the EEG process, his generalized anger had subsided into peckish irritability that was further blunted by a mixture of fatigue and the pain inhibitors he was being given.

 

“That's that.” Gaven said at length as he recorded the information from the EEG onto his datapad to analyze later. “I think it's time you eat.”

 

Julian had been half asleep with his eyes closed and his hands folded over his chest. The other wakeful side of him had been quietly monitoring the subtle sounds of Gaven's movements and presence for the last hour. Despite his moodiness towards him, Julian had found Gaven's presence to be soothing and reassuring. It occurred to him that whenever Gaven was with him, there was a sense of inexplicable safety between them. A kind of deep trust that overrode their many differences of style and opinion. Since he'd woken up out of the medically induced coma, Julian found his waking hours were wrought with deep anxieties. Though he had little desire to entertain his worried friends just yet, he had found upon being left alone that inevitable panic and distress set in. Distress that became tolerable only when he was either unconscious or when Gaven was with him.

 

This was explicitly evident to him when Julian felt his tepid anxiety begin to spike at the realization that Gaven intended to leave the infirmary for the day. Julian found himself desperate to have him stay, though he fought the irrational feeling with all his concentrated effort. Despite this, other thoughts slipped past his resolve. Was it true that while Julian had been comatose Gaven had camped out in the infirmary all that time? Had he done so for Julian's benefit alone or had there been some broader necessity? Why did he even want to know so badly? Why did it matter?

 

As he listened to Gaven's shuffle around the room, Julian noted several things purely through the input of his higher sense of awareness. He noticed, for example, that Gaven had taken recently to limping about in confined spaces rather than using the support of his forearm crutch to even out his gate. This resulted in a grating shuffle to his movements rather than something smoother. Today it was even more pronounced, and instead of a shuffling, Julian could hear more of a dragging effect as if Gaven's bad leg was weighing him down more than usual. He'd also noticed how quick Gaven had been to end their arguments. Though the men were often known to speak to each other in a language of subtle challenges and grinding ultimatums, their conversation today had been unusually straight forward. Gaven hadn't wanted to fight with him and had gone to great lengths to avoid and ignore Julian's baiting. Even his uncompromising insistence that Julian eat before he left felt brittle and breakable.

 

What was wrong with him today? Julian wondered. Surely, Gaven wasn't sick. Could it be that the poly radiated implants were failing somehow? Not likely, Julian concluded. All testing of Gaven's radiation treatments before the station had gone into crisis had proven positive and appropriate for his needs. Julian suspected something else was going on with him, but thanks to his own compromised wellbeing Julian was not able to play doctor for the time being. If something were indeed amiss, Julian had to trust that Gaven would handle it for himself.

 

Opening his eyes and tugging off the rest of the sensors, Julian sighed. “I think I'll take that toast and broth now. Some coffee would be a nice touch.”

 

Before Gaven could protest, Julian raised his hand. “Just half a cup worth. Non-caffeinated. Black.”

 

“I suppose that can be allowed.” Gaven conceded with a nod of approval. “I'll bring the patient his tray.”

 

Gaven picked up his forearm crutch and headed for the entry so that he could slip off to the replicator in the adjacent room.

 

“While you're at it, why don't you replicate something for yourself and eat with me.” It was a statement and not a request.

 

“Please.” Julian added coarsely for good measure.

 

Gaven half turned at the entry to look back on him.

 

“If you like.” He said at length before he turned back around and disappeared.

 

A short time later Gaven returned. Two stacked plates of toast, Gaven's cold serving and Julian's warm one was being balanced in is crutch hand. In his other hand, he was carefully balancing two lidded cups of broth and a small cup worth if steaming black coffee stacked in a little tower. Considering he wasn't at his best; it was a fascinating thing to see Gaven carry it all into the room without spilling anything.

 

“You're a real marvel sometimes.” Julian observed.

 

“Servants universally tend to have a knack for tea service.” Gaven quipped intending a sardonic sounding joke at his own expense.

 

Julian inwardly cringed, realizing Gaven was referencing Julian's earlier remarks.

 

“Gaven...” Julian started reproachfully.

 

“Don't read into things so much, Julian. I was honestly just trying to make a joke.” Gaven said, frankly.

 

“I still shouldn't have...” Julian struggled to frame his thoughts.

 

“Told the truth?” Gaven offered, a slight smile setting across his lips as he pulled the bed tray across Julian's lap and set his lunch down. “In every respect, I was a servant on Oum. I was the very definition of it.”

 

“I'm not really apologizing for what I said as much as the reason I said it.” Julian confessed. “I'm sorry I tried to hurt your feelings. It was wrong of me.”

 

“Apology accepted.” Gaven said before he pried the lid off of his serving of steaming broth and took a tentative sip from it.

 

“If I may say so, you don't seem to be feeling well today.” Julian observed.

 

“No. Could be fatigue. Could be some minor irritation coming on.” Gaven speculated dismissively.

 

“Have you been the only one running things around here?” He asked, shaking off his fatigue while he looked skeptically at his dry toast.

 

“When the Dominion attacked all civilians and non-essential personnel were encouraged to evacuate and, anyway, it’s not as if you had a large staff to begin with. You are the medical backbone of this station, Julian. I've remained only because it was necessary that I picked up the slack both to keep up appearances and to keep things together long enough for you to recover yourself.”

 

Julian scoffed. “Well, it doesn't look like I'm going to be much good for anything for a while. I must admit I'm glad you're the one taking care of things in my absence.”

 

“Only for the immediate moment. The Captain is expecting a temporary Starfleet doctor to arrive any time now to stand in for you until you're ready to come back.” Gaven explained.

 

“What? Who?” Julian asked.

 

“No idea. Whoever they could find in close enough range.” Gaven suggested.

 

“But...Why? You're perfectly capable of...” Julian began to protest hoarsely.

 

“I'm not really a Starfleet doctor, Julian. It was at my request that someone legitimately qualified take over in your absence. It's the right thing for everyone.” Gaven said firmly.

 

“Gaven, what about our work? We're right on the cusp...” Julian was getting agitated, and his body wasn't tolerating it well.

 

He began to cough and wheeze painfully.

 

“Shhhh. Peace. Steady yourself. I don't like you getting excited right now.” Gaven checked Julian's vitals and waited for him to relax and quiet. “We're far enough into the project where you and the others can continue with the trials without my constant input.”

 

When Julian looked like he was going to rally and try to spit out a rapid response to this, Gaven stilled him by putting a hand to his shoulder applying subtle pressure until he eased back against the bed. “Please don't fight me on this, Julian. At least not until you're well enough for us to fight about it properly.”

 

“We WILL be fighting about this eventually.” Julian promised him just shy of vehemently.

 

“I look forward to it. Try to sleep for now. I need to depart for the day, but you know you can reach me if you need something.” At that Gaven sipped down the rest of his broth, dimmed the room's lights, and sighed before he forced himself to step from the room.

 

Julian was fighting exhaustion, but he wasn't so far gone to miss the sight of the plate of toast Gaven had left behind. Though he'd finished off the clear broth before he'd gone, he'd left his serving of toast completely untouched.

 

~@~

 

It was later than Gaven had wanted it to be by the time he made it out of the infirmary and into the open promenade. People were beginning to return to the station. Many tentatively and all much more subdued than they would have otherwise been had the recent dangers not occurred.

 

Gaven supposed some of them had no choice but to return. Whatever their origins, the shop owners and merchants relied on the traffic of the station for their livelihood. Even in the worst of situations, there would always be those who remained. Quark came to mind as did Odo. Characters who had weathered the station through the Cardassian occupation of Bajor, through Bajor's revolt, through the coming of the Federation and now the threat of the Dominion. Gaven was both impressed by such adaptability and dismayed by the implications of it.

 

His own culture was not like these space dwellers. The Oum preferred predictability. They perpetuated order in all things with little room for deviation. On Oum, every person knew their exact place. Change was often painstakingly slow on Oum and was carefully plotted.

 

Until now, Gaven reminded himself.

 

Had his role as an accidental revolutionary been predictable? Had it been slow and in any way intentional? No.

 

“I never wanted to defy my people,” Gaven answered himself under his breath as he limped with unusual slowness back towards his quarters.

 

He knowingly had defied them. Gaven had defied his prescribed role, his people, and his culture absolutely and not once had he felt remorse in doing so even though it had destroyed the fabric of his known reality. Why? Why had it been so easy to do?

 

“They should have killed me for it.” Gaven muttered.

 

Even at this remark, he felt his mind rebuke him. He was reminded of the way of Oum. The way the Oum sidestepped even justifiable murder. Gaven knew that he hadn't overcome the moral and ethical indoctrination of his people; he had merely found something more potent to believe in.

 

Thoughts of Lopel Ner swept across his mind.

 

Memories of when the Ner bloodline had bought him in the Foundling House. How he learned later that his very birth had been carefully orchestrated to benefit the Ner genetic line. A genetic match to Lopel Ner the destined master of the house over seen by the older Gulevere. Gulevere had been a patient, but harsh, sort. A linguist specialist and scholar of the highest acclaim. His mate Verda was a silent and highly judgmental mute and string instrumentalist. The Ner family was prominent enough to be able to afford two genetically compatible bondservants. Gaven, who was destined to be inherited by Lopel Ner and Hadna who was a young adult when Gaven had been brought into the Ner household, the genetic bondservant of the middle-aged Verda.

 

Oh, how those first weeks and months in the Ner household had terrified Gaven. He felt crushed against cold iron bars of demanding responsibility. His whole existence was designed to sustain the life of the members of his bond-house either through service or by his own flesh and blood. Yet he had outlived every one of them. How blasphemously corrupted it all seemed.

 

“Lopel, what did you think my life was going to amount to? Why could you not have allowed me to join you in death? To remain is agony and yet to defy you and your whims, even now, seems impossible.” He muttered, suddenly frustrated with himself.

 

Gaven carried on this way all the way home, his muscles aching in a slow rolling fashion across his body. He couldn't ignore the overwhelming compulsions to sleep and was momentarily distracted from his memories by the thought of falling into his bed the moment he arrived home.

 

Home. Was that what the station had become? A home? Ridiculous.

 

Edging a curved corner, Gaven lumbered down the final corridor like a man running from smoke. The entire time his eyes locked pensively to the floor. Gaven was lost in memory now and lost in his confused feelings. What was the matter with him today? The thought was vague and sat on the far edges of his awareness.

 

As he neared the entry to his quarters, Gaven failed to notice the figure walking from the other side towards him. The two men might have collided in transit had the character not caught Gaven by the shoulders urging him to step no further.

 

“Doctor Ore.” The figure was calling Gaven to attention pulling him unceremoniously into the here and now.

 

It was only then that Gaven realized he'd been dream walking. A phenomenon where an Oum triggered the usually ritualized meditative purging of feelings through his unique recall. His body jerked as his eyes focused as if coming acutely out of a trance.

 

“Cheval.” Gaven breathed the Vulcan's name on an exhale.

 

Cheval's grip subtly tightened.

 

“Why are you he-”

 

Gaven's question was abruptly cut off.

 

“Your nose. It is bleeding. Come inside now. You must allow me to address it immediately.” Cheval looked back and forth from one side of the corridor to the other checking for signs that anyone had been walking near the doctor.

 

Luckily, no one was about.

 

Guiding him inside, Cheval perched him on the edge of his sofa arm and immediately disappeared into the bathroom to retrieve a towel.

 

As he did this Gaven suddenly became aware that the entire front of his monotone dark gray jumpsuit was saturated nearly to the middle of his chest with thick blood so dark it was black against the fabric. Instinctively Gavin clapped a hand over his nose as he took stock of the situation.

 

Seconds later Cheval returned with a towel in one hand that had been wetted down with warm water along with an an equally warm basin from the bathroom.

 

The blood about his mouth, neck, and chin had already begun to dry and was tacky to the touch.

 

“Please permit me to aid you.” The Vulcan's words were rushed and imperative in tone as he pushed forward not waiting for Gaven's consent and began to wipe at his face directly about the nose which had thankfully stopped actively running with blood.

 

Gaven allowed these administrations in stunned silence.

 

“Doctor, are you in pain?” Cheval asked.

 

“No. I mean, I just, ache.” Gaven admitted quietly.

 

I ache. A simple phrase yet one that Cheval knew was loaded with multiple meaning.

 

“You are weak from the blood loss and soiled. You must allow me to help you. Come.” Cheval abandoned the blood-stained towel and bowl upon the floor and gripped Gaven by the upper arm and shoulder helping him into the bathroom.

 

“I need to remove your bloody clothes. If that makes you uncomfortable, I will cease and allow you to do it yourself, but they must come off.” Cheval had taken the time while in the bathroom before to start up a hot bath.

 

The steaming water was already half full, and Gaven was grateful for the calming sound of flowing water.

 

Gaven allowed Cheval to ease off his soiled jumpsuit. There was no point in trying to salvage it. As Cheval peeled the jumpsuit halfway down Gaven's firm body, Gaven suddenly gasped sharply and gripped Cheval by the forearms halting his action.

 

“Did I hurt you?” Cheval asked in sharp dismay.

 

“No, but you need to stop all the same. It's all right.” Gaven reassured him as he let the other man go.

 

Cheval stepped back to allow more space for Gaven to move. He could hear a mixture of fatigue and acute control in Gaven's tone along with something else. Something much more vulnerable.

 

As Cheval looked on Gaven hooked his thumbs into the slightly elastic edge of his folded jumpsuit and pulled the sides as far away from his flesh as possible. He then took a deep breath and in one fluid motion forced the jumpsuit downwards to crumple at his ankles. It took a great deal more strength to stand back up. His body now fully exposed to the Vulcan.

 

“I see now.” Cheval said as his mind connected observational points. “I will try to be more careful in the future. How long does your monoestrous cycle last?”

 

“Ten days unless implantation happens.” Gaven said, his body shuddering slightly. “I didn't even think...”

 

“You do not have to justify it. Clearly, the poly radiation therapy you have been undergoing has allowed your biological reproductive functions to return.” Cheval observed.

 

“Yes. A problem I hadn't anticipated.” Gaven admitted.

 

“What is problematic about it?” Cheval asked.

 

Gaven hesitated.

 

“The estrus stage can be painfully debilitating and may begin any time now. I can't believe I didn't see the signs.” Gaven chided himself.

 

“How can this be eased?” Cheval asked pressingly.

 

Gaven looked him square in the eyes, proving he wasn't ashamed to discuss the subject but also not eager to elaborate on its intricacies. “It doesn't matter.”

 

Gaven reached out and let Cheval help him step from his jumpsuit and then help him into the steaming water. Usually, it would have felt almost scalding at this temperature, but Gaven was grateful for the intensity against his red edged and irritated abdominal slits. He was thankful that the sensation of wet heat was overriding the acute arousal that had briefly overwhelmed him and was now lingering over his body caused by Cheval accidentally brushing his fingers across his inflamed abdominal slits.

 

“It does matter if it can help you prevent needless suffering.” Cheval argued.

 

“No. Painful as the experience is going to be it's not going to kill me.” Gaven retorted.

 

“No.” Cheval agreed diplomatically. “It will just debilitate you completely. I cannot allow you to whether such an experience alone.”

 

“I don't need you to baby me. I'm perfectly capable of handling this on my own.” Gaven insisted.

 

“You do not know that for certain.” Cheval challenged.

 

Gaven had to reluctantly admit to himself that the Vulcan was right. He didn't know because Lopel Ner, his lover, and bondmate, had been with him through the initial experience. Gaven had only experienced his new monoestrous cycle one time just a scant few weeks before Lopel had died. Being new to the process they had failed to achieve implantation due to a misunderstanding of the timing process. They never got a second chance. Lopel had died, and Gaven had found himself shortly after embroiled in social defiance so rare and dangerous that his people had launched him into space alive within a shielded orbiting tomb to die slowly just to preserve the status quo.

 

The lack of poly exposure had caused his monoestrous cycle to halt, but thanks to Julian's poly therapy disks that had been implanted under the skin, it appeared the cycle had resumed. On some level, the thought made Gaven deeply happy as well as profoundly grieved.

 

Neither emotional state was particularly useful now.

 

“There is no shame in cultural mating necessities. The Vulcan culture has Pon Farr for example. A biological necessity that can kill if not properly addressed.” Cheval remarked.

 

Gaven sighed heavily. Cupping some of the water in his palms to cleanse his bloodied face with. “I'm not ashamed of my reproductive needs.”

 

“Then what exactly is the problem? Besides the fact that your bond-mate is dead.” Cheval was not afraid to be blunt, and he knew enough about Gaven's life details to err on the side of accuracy.

 

“Bondmated Oum sexually and emotionally bond for life. We do not take on other partners in love or reproduction.” Gaven said evenly.

 

“You are not on Oum anymore.” Cheval pointed out firmly but with compassion.

 

“I know.” Gaven remarked in a defeated tone.

 

“I am not proposing you violate your cultural strictures.” Cheval cautioned as he picked up a nearby washcloth and dipped it into the water so that he could wipe along Gaven's chin and neck cleansing the places where the water either didn't reach or where his nearly black blood had dried too wholly to be easily removed.

 

Gaven knew Cheval meant he wasn't proposing to be taken as a make-shift lover though he couldn't help but wonder if Cheval would have offered himself if he'd thought Gaven would be receptive to the plan. If things were different would Gaven have responded to such overtures of their developing friendship? Would he have perhaps made overtures of his own along the same vein?

 

“Will you at least explain what is involved?” Cheval inquired.

 

“The difficulties in the situation are due to the hormonal reproductive conflict of the sexes. Some Oum are born naturally intersexed with various reproductive abilities. Others fall into a more traditional two sex binary where their reproductive capabilities are restricted unless a subject is modified. Unlike Oum who are naturally intersex, modified Oum run the risk of their bodies chemically rejecting the unoriginal cellular structures that function via a separate hormonal cue. In my case, my body wants to reject the processes of my modified womb and reproductive organs. It can cause intense pain, fatigue, and muscular strain. Rapid spikes in blood pressure are common which can lead to intense headaches, nosebleeds, and heightened anxiety. Blood pressure spikes and intense muscle cramping are most common during the proestrus stage but can be eased through the release of various pleasure centered hormones.” Gaven explained.

 

“I see. That would be why you were able to avoid most of the effects the first time when Lopel was with you.” Cheval said showing he understood the situation.

 

“Once the Estrus stage is complete there is an intense phase after which there is a small window of opportunity for implantation before the uterine lining is absorbed and its component reorganized for the next cycle.” Gaven explained.

 

“Fascinating.” Cheval remarked.

 

“Unlike some species, implantation is automatic as long as a suitable genetic coupling is available and achieved.” Gaven explained, his eyes closed, and he rested his neck against the edge of the tub. “I should have recognized the beginning signs. If I'd realized earlier, I may have been able to devise a hormonal blocker and prevent the cycle from fully initiating. Now it's too late. It must be endured.”

 

“Have you considered reversing your modified biology?” Cheval asked more out of personal curiosity as a scientist.

 

“I'm not interested in doing that. I worked too hard to earn my carrier rights.” Gaven insisted.

 

That bit was curious, Cheval thought. Gaven claimed he would never take another partner casually or otherwise and yet he wasn't interested in removing his carrier abilities despite the difficulties that preserving the modification entailed. Was he subconsciously receptive to taking another mate and producing offspring as a carrier? Or was he holding onto the ability because of its connection to his past?

 

The logical part of Cheval argued that it was not his business to question Gaven's motives. But the deeper emotional part of him felt disturbed and protective of Gaven's interests.

 

“I believe you are perfectly capable of seeing yourself through this.” Cheval said at length. “I think though that having adequate support through it would make it less difficult.”

 

“I don't object to your presence, my friend. Nor do I object to your concern for my wellbeing and your impulse to help me. I'm sorry if I made it seem otherwise.” Gaven remarked.

 

“There was no offense. I simply wish for you to understand that you are not the only one with strong convictions. I told you before of my intentions to remain with you through your time here on this station.” Cheval reminded him.

 

“I remember.” Gaven agreed.

 

“Then you should also remember how it disturbs me to see you unwell.” Cheval pressed.

 

Gaven opened his eyes and turned in the water to peer at the Vulcan. For the moment, Cheval's eyes were cast down staring into the tiled floor. Gaven could see traces of Vulcan despondency, and it tore at him.

 

“I'm glad you're here with me, Cheval.” Gaven said, reaching out then to grasp the Vulcan's hand squeezing it.

 

Cheval, who had raised his eyes now to look at him, was tempted to lower his head and lift Gaven's hand to press it against his cheek but resisted the impulse.

 

“For once, the servant should allow himself to be served.” Cheval remarked squeezing Gaven's hand in return.

 

~@~

 

Forty-five minutes later, Gaven limped heavily into his living room. One towel was draped in a U across his neck and shoulders, and the other was fastened low around his hips. At some point, Cheval had left him to relax in the water alone. When Gaven emerged, he discovered the Vulcan putting the final touched on their dinner.

 

“All of these dishes are high in iron and other nutrients. You should eat a little of all of them if you can.” Cheval remarked as he fussed about subtly adjusting various details of the table setting.

 

As he watched him, Gaven wondered if there wasn't something of an artist in the Vulcan.

 

“And here I was planning to cook for you tonight.” Gaven shook his head lightly.

 

“Another time. Come. Sit down a moment. How do you feel?” Cheval asked.

 

“Better for now. Though, stiff.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Tomorrow I'll bring you a Vulcan salve to rub into your muscles. Your body is more robust than a human and requires a stronger curative.” He insisted.

 

Gaven eased down into one of the table chairs and observed the Vulcan. He seemed distracted and nervous. His movements were always gracious but now also were more deliberate. It made him think of the edge of urgency he'd heard in Cheval when they'd communicated earlier that day.

 

“Was there something you were planning to tell me tonight.” Gaven asked gently.

 

At this question, Cheval abruptly stopped his Vulcan fidgeting and forced himself into an aura of placidity.

 

“Yes. I was planning to tell you that I must return to Vulcan in some weeks’ time.” Cheval began.

 

“Why?” Gaven asked patiently.

 

“To negotiate the details of my impending marriage.” Cheval replied in a small voice.

 

Gaven's eyes widened. Of anything he might have expected the Vulcan to say, this subject had not occurred to him.

 

“I'm sorry. I can't claim to know anything about Vulcan bonding or marriage rituals. Would you elaborate?” Gaven asked evenly.

 

Cheval took a seat and let out a controlled exhale. “In my culture, it is customary for Vulcan parents to arrange suitable marriages for their children at birth. The practice is not universally observed but is still preferred and largely expected among the higher Vulcan classes. At eight the intended Vulcan juveniles are telepathically bonded so that -to quote the rights- though we may be apart, we are never parted. Never touching and always touching.”

 

Cheval went on.

 

“I have always had a respectful relationship with my intended, T'Yel. We...” Cheval stumbled, growing silent for several seconds as his features subtly melted into something that resembled resignation. “We were very well suited for each other.”

 

Gaven caught the keyword in the Vulcan's phrasing. Something had changed between him and his intended, Gaven surmised, and now Cheval was concerned about the pending arrangements.

 

“Have you seen or spoken to your betrothed recently?” Gaven suspected that Vulcan bonded did not always stay in close contact throughout their engagements.

 

Cheval sighed. “No. Not for some time.”

 

The Vulcan did not appear particularly proud of this statement.

 

“It has not been my intention to avoid her. T'Yel and I have always tried to maintain a certain quality of direct contact. As children we were friends, and we have long agreed that our parents were wise to pair us. Not all Vulcan pairings of this nature are ideal.” For a moment Cheval's tone brightened as he remembered he and T'Yel's past understandings.

 

“If you'll excuse my use of terms, you do love T'Yel. Don't you?” Gaven was well aware that Vulcan's were capable of love and that many did indeed love their partners and expressed a deep devotion to them. The psychic bond they shared was part of that devotion.

 

“Yes.” Cheval agreed understanding Gaven's question.

 

Again, there was that resignation. Cheval wasn't telling Gaven the whole story. He was holding back details and sidestepping certain direct questions. Unusual for a Vulcan.

 

“When was the last time you spoke to T'Yel?” Gaven repeated his question.

 

“We saw each other briefly before I left Vulcan to come to Deep Space Nine.” Cheval said evenly.

 

It was clear to Gaven that whatever had been done or said during that meeting had not been pleasant. It was possible, Gaven realized, that T'Yel had not wanted him to leave the planet. Gaven also knew perfectly well that although he had set up the circumstances that had justified their reunion on the station, it was likely that Cheval would have sought him out eventually once he knew where Gaven was. The Vulcan had admitted as much already in their past conversations. Was it possible that whatever disturbance that was going on between Cheval and his intended was Gaven's fault? It was no secret between them how their unusual alien connection had caused real and lasting difficulties for Cheval that he was still trying to address. It was logical to suspect then that if Cheval and T'Yel were psychically bonded that both might have also been affected by the experiences of the one.

 

Once again, a wave of guilt washed over Gaven. Though it had never been his intention to cause harm to anyone, it seemed that he inadvertently had and it was unclear how Gaven could correct the problem. Even if he sent Cheval away, the memories of their sharing would remain, and its effects would persist for the Vulcan.

 

“What are you going to do when you return to Vulcan?” Gaven asked.

 

“I want to speak to T'Yel and find out why she has initiated our marriage proceeding so early. I also want to consult with my mother.” Cheval said tapping into that reserve of strength Gaven admired so much in him.

 

“Well...That all makes sense. You should go back. We live in delicate times, after all.”

 

“There's something else.” Cheval noted.

 

Here it was, Gaven thought bracing himself.

 

“I...I would like you to return with me.” Cheval spat out quickly.

 

Gaven took a moment to process this statement slowly. Under other circumstances, Gaven would have looked at the idea of returning to Vulcan as another potential opportunity to settle down. Similarly to the People of Gulba IV, Vulcan society and culture was something Gaven felt meshed well with his sensibilities. Despite being an Alien, he thought he could blend on such planets and even carve out a useful existence. But to be called back to Vulcan by Cheval? That was something else. It was something that needed a more in-depth consideration.

 

“Why do you want me to return with you?” Gaven asked.

 

“It is my wedding.” Cheval pointed out bluntly. “Is it not customary for friends to attend such functions?”

 

“That does seem to be the general sentiment among most of the cultures I've encountered.” Gaven agreed flatly.

 

“You don't approve.” Cheval observed.

 

“No. I very much do approve of witnessing the life celebrations of those I like and care about. But my witness is not why you're asking me to come to Vulcan. If you don't want to tell me the real reason, then I won't press you, but unless I know the real reason, I can't promise you that I can justify breaking away from my responsibilities here. I'm still the Federation's...” Gaven had wanted to say 'inmate' but diplomatically said, “Guest.” instead.

 

Cheval, who had been sitting with his hands clasped on the table in front of him while he watched Gaven pick at his food, sighed and pulled them back suddenly to let them drop at his sides.

 

“Under the current circumstances it is my belief that T'Yel has changed her mind regarding the appropriateness of our union and if so, she will attempt to challenge the rites and deny me when I return to Vulcan.” Cheval confessed.

 

“And?” Gaven didn't know enough about this aspect of Vulcan culture to anticipate why Cheval found the matter so alarming.

 

“If T'Yel initiates the challenge of Koon-ut-kal-fee, I will find myself in a position that requires me to fight for my claim on her. I do not relish violence. I neither wish to kill or be killed simply to observe tradition.” Cheval said, clearly agitated.

 

He's afraid, Gaven realized with some alarm.

 

“Must it come down to a death match?” Gaven pressed.

 

“I do not know. There have been some instances where the opponent only had to break the blood fever and incapacitate their rival. Even at that, the task is dangerous because incapacitation alone is not always strong enough to correct the chemical imbalance of the blood fever. If the imbalance where to continue unaddressed it would kill the Vulcan subject anyway. It seems the logical reason why a death outcome would have been traditionally preferred.” Cheval mused.

 

“A mercy killing.” Gaven nodded. “What exactly does T’Yel object to so suddenly?”

 

Cheval didn't reply. He merely looked at Gaven straight in the eyes his own eyes reflecting that subtle unhappiness that was born out of knowing one was not and could never be perfect.

 

“She objects to me.” Gaven scoffed and sighed deeply.

 

“Don't you think my presence on Vulcan would only agitate her further?” Gaven certainly thought it would.

 

“Part of T'Yel's difficulty is that she does not understand you nor does she understand the bond you and I share. Despite the telepathic link between us as betrothed, she does not understand.” Cheval pressed.

 

“More like she simply doesn't like it.” Gaven mused out loud. “Well, I can't say I blame her much for that. You know...If I had conceived the influence my selfishness was going to have on the people floating about in the stars; I don't know that I would have gone through with it. You, the conflict with the Dominion. I'm trying to disengage from it all, but every time I turn around I find myself more deeply woven into the greater pattern of lives that, until I left Oum, I had no idea even existed.”

 

“I am not asking you to repair what has become undone between T'Yel and I. I have no expectation of you doing anything about the matter to influence it whatsoever. The fact remains that outside of my mother and T'Yel, I have no other significant ties. I have never mastered the art of social discourse among my kind. For most of my life it has seemed I have never done anything to warrant attention or support from my peers whatsoever. In this way, it is perhaps appropriate for T'Yel to reject me now just as it is appropriate that I endure the consequences of my other inadequacies as a Vulcan. You are the only real friend I have ever had, and there are few instances in life where a man can know the character of his demise. If I am not to persevere in this instance of challenge, then in my final failure I would like the comfort of knowing I did not face the coming of my time alone.” Cheval finished his lengthy speech and began to look away.

 

“Enough.” Gaven's hand slammed down on the table between them as he forced his voice into a tight, strict tone forcing Cheval to return his full gaze to him.” You are not a failure. What of your many accomplishments? Your ambassadorship? The men and women you saved? The way you saved me? I will never understand this incessant Vulcan fatalism of yours. I know you worry about not living up to the Vulcan ideal and you think not being able to do so makes you lesser than those that can and do. But you're wrong. You are wonderful and absolutely deserving of peace and happiness just the way you are.”

 

The men were almost glaring at each other now. Gaven had demanded Cheval's complete attention as he delivered his rebuttal and now the men were weighing their words as if both were trying to make an invisible scale balance between them.

 

“It is not fatalism.” Cheval said carefully.

 

“What is it then?” Gaven tested.

 

“It is the Vulcan Paradox. The necessity of my people to allow ourselves to be ruled only by intellection through logic because it is in our base natures to be ruled by our violent depths of feeling. The necessity to seek reason devoid of the biased of passion is what keeps our baser tendencies in check. It is our defining fail-safe, and one, not every Vulcan is destined to master. I am not sure I am a Vulcan who wants to master my emotions. When I speak of the consequence inherent in my unique nature, I speak of it in terms of measurable likelihoods. The likelihood of success, in this case, being statistically unfavorable. I am capable of passionate violence as much as the next Vulcan, but when pitted against another of my kind I am at a clear and obvious disadvantage. Do you understand?” Cheval asked.

 

“Yes.” Gaven agreed. “Now you understand me. We will go to Vulcan together and try to find a way out of this catastrophe of Vulcan nonsense. Barring a reasonable alternative, we will, in the meantime do something else that, with any luck, will equalize the odds if not tip them to your favor. If you're telling me I might have to watch you kill yourself in a few weeks just because we're friends, then you damn well better believe I'm going to have my say in the business.”

 

Chapter 16: Doctor Strange

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen: Doctor Strange

 

“Julian, if you expect me to be able to do this then you have to hold still.” The day after Gaven had run Julian's cognitive tests the men were at it again.

 

This time Gaven was trying to get to the bottom of Julian's hand tremors, and the testing process was annoying them both. At first, the issue hadn't been immediately apparent, but as Gaven had tested him, Julian's mental fatigue began to cause his focus to slip and cause the tremors in his hands to be more evident. By the time they were two-thirds of the way through the testing process Julian could barely hold a straw cylinder steady enough to lift it more than a few inches without dropping it. Julian was struggling to cope with this significant limitation, and Gaven was struggling to deal with a difficult patient while he secretly was battling his discomforts.

 

Gaven's major muscles ached, and the edges of his abdominal slits had moved from being erotically sensitive to irritated and painful. Just breathing in and out caused the fabric of his monochrome uniform to rub his body wrong. Not to mention Gaven was entirely paranoid about the hemorrhaging nose bleeds that could strike at any moment, and that would be difficult to explain. After their dinner discussion the night before, Cheval had eaten with Gaven in silence and then helped him to bed remaining with him for several hours as they tried a meditative tactic to help reduce Gaven's symptoms and help him sleep until other therapies could be contrived. The subject matter they had discussed had weighed heavily on Gaven's mind when he'd woken up early that morning to find Cheval had meditated on the floor of his bedroom through the night while he'd slept.

 

It wasn't the first time someone had saw fit to watch over Gaven through the night during times of trouble, but unlike some of the other times, it had felt uncomfortable to realize Cheval had remained with him unasked. Why did the Vulcan insist upon doting on him so? And why did the idea bother him so much? Gaven didn't have time to answer these questions.

 

The sound of Julian swearing under his breath as the cylinder he was trying to handle fell for the hundredth time out of his hands, pulled Gaven back into the present moment.

 

“Damn, damn, damn it!” Julian cursed.

 

“Try to take it easy, Julian. In a minute or two we'll try again. Now for the last time hold still so I can do the probe scan.” Gaven ordered.

 

“I’m sorry. This is just frustrating for me. Look. Look at my hands. I can barely make a fist without shaking. I don't want to do any more of this.” He miserably protested as he sat in a chair at the exam table, they were working at. He looked a hot mess.

 

“You don't have a choice this time — doctor's orders. Furthermore, you were in a coma for two weeks. You already know that it's unreasonable for you to expect everything to just come back overnight. The shaking is probably just temporary, but I have to make sure.” Gaven insisted.

 

“Guh. I just want to go home and pretend none of this happened.” Julian admitted.

 

“I know, and as soon as we do this and find out the results, we can think about transferring you into outpatient care. Some rest and recuperation at home for a while and it may all indeed turn out almost like normal.” Gaven muttered.

 

“Your bedside manner is reassuring, Doctor.” Julian remarked cuttingly.

 

“And your sarcasm isn’t.” Gaven quipped back. “There. We’re done. You’re free.”

 

Gaven helped Julian stand and bumble back to his bed.

 

“Let's talk about something other than me for a while. Yes? I’ve been listening to the reports you’ve submitted since I've been under on our little pet project. You’ve made quite a few strides, I see.” Julian observed.

 

“Yes. Enough that Starfleet can probably start running their clinical trials. As I've outlined in my analysis Deep Space Nine is ideal for the initial testing process, but eventually, Starfleet will want to go beyond the station and sample a larger test group.” He said evenly.

 

“I don’t want to think about what the brilliant minds of Starfleet will do with our work right now. I’m just glad we’re making progress. You know, Gaven, there’s something I’ve meant to say to you since I woke up.” Julian muttered evenly.

 

Gaven felt a cold sweat threaten to break out down his spine. An irrational reaction to Julian’s choice of words. After the unexpected nature of the conversation, he'd had with Cheval the previous night, Gaven felt wary of surprising revelations from those around him. What was he afraid of? What could Julian possibly say to him that was any more unnerving than what Cheval had said? Gaven recognized his nervous anxieties regarding the matter and tried to accept them. Steeling himself, he settled into the rolling stool near Julian’s sick bed to listen to him.

 

“I happen to know that I would have died out there in the carpet shop if you hadn’t found me when you did. I...” Julian wanted to say something else specifically about the attack he survived but found it too complicated.

 

“I think you’re a wonderful doctor and a good man. I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done since coming here to the station. I appreciate you. Lots of people here, appreciate you. And not just because of what you've done to help me.” Julian said carefully.

 

“I know they do.” Gaven replied quietly. “I’m glad you’re alive, Julian. You’re a very beloved figure here and a good doctor in your own right. I’ve learned a tremendous amount about many things thanks to you.”

 

“Yes. Yes. Were both very admirable and important.” Julian muttered not wanting to risk losing his thought stream. “The Captain dropped in on me yesterday while you were gone and mentioned to me in more detail that you’re planning to stop helping in the infirmary all together once the replacement Doctor arrives. If I may be so bold? I think it’s a mistake. I know you don’t really think you belong here, but you're wrong. You belong here as much as I or anyone else does.” Julian said firmly.

 

“I appreciate that sentiment.” Gaven started to say.

 

“It’s not just a sentiment. It’s a point of fact. Anyway, I suppose I of all people can’t convince you to change your mind, but I just wanted to make sure you knew how I felt about it. And don’t think for one moment that now that I’ve said it you need to go contradicting me.” Julian grumbled darkly but with good intent.

 

At that Gaven chuckled. “Alright. I will humor the invalid. But Julian, you need to accept that at some point I will leave Deep Space Nine. I want to do so on a positive note, but...I’m afraid it may not come out that way if I overstay my time here or overstep the privileges Starfleet has extended to me. You're the doctor assigned to this station. This is your home and your people. Do you understand?”

 

Julian could hear the strain in Gaven’s tone. Until recently he had only been superficially aware of the man’s sadness and profound commitment to his principles, and there was something else at work in his tonality today that Julian couldn't pinpoint. Something he did sense was that since the attack on Julian's life, things had changed between them somehow and Julian felt like he could see aspects of the other doctor he hadn’t understood or cared to notice before. He could also sense that Gaven was trying to pull away from all of them.

 

“Sure, I understand. But I still think you’re wrong and I just hope one of these days you’ll agree with me.” He said quietly.

 

Gaven didn’t reply directly to his remark and instead gingerly rose from the stool.

 

“The new doctor is supposed to arrive sometime today.” Gaven remarked. “Did the Captain tell you?”

 

“No. But he may not have gotten word when I spoke with him last. Do we know who it is yet?” Julian asked.

 

“A Doctor Jeremiah Fisk.” Gaven confirmed.

 

“Fisk? I wonder where in bloody Hell they drummed him up.” Julian remarked in a surly manner.

 

“Do you not approve?” Gaven asked.

 

“Of Fisk? Jeremiah's a fine doctor. I'm just surprised. I didn't realize he was still practicing, and I certainly would have never expected him to be floating out in this part of the quadrant. Last I heard he was retired and teaching full time in the Academy. “

 

“What's his specialty?” Gaven asked.

 

“Inter-Stellar Ethnology and Exobiology along with the standard doctoring fare. Though, last I heard he'd branched off into Forensic Psychology. Fisk always was a stickler about knowing the why of things, particularly where alien ethics were involved. He ran one of the best and most grueling Medical Ethics courses in living memory. He also happens to be one of the nicest fellows I've ever met who made it particularly shameful when students couldn't pass his exams.” Julian explained.

 

“You had him at the Academy; I take it.” Gaven surmised.

 

“Yes. Though I had a somewhat prodigal reputation at the academy, Fisk's courses were some of the hardest ones I took and some of the most rewarding. We're lucky to have him if that's indeed who's coming. I can't wait to hear what he's been doing with himself.” Julian said sounding tired though in better spirits.

 

“I look forward to meeting him.” Gaven remarked.

 

Julian sighed, rubbing at his hands briskly. “I certainly hope we figure out what the Hell these tremors are about. I rather like my hands and would enjoy playing darts again among other things.”

 

“Speaking of darts, Julian. When are you planning on letting your friends and colleagues see you? Almost everyone has been at the infirmary at one point or another asking me about you.” Gaven asked.

 

“Almost everyone?” Julian was keen to know who hadn't dropped by.

 

“Almost everyone I've known you to acquaint yourself favorably with. With the notable exception of Chief O'Brien...” Gaven remarked.

 

“Miles? Miles hasn't been to see me?” Julian sounded genuinely surprised.

 

“He took the changeling attack on you very personally and why shouldn't he? You're his best friend. Since the day you came out of surgery, I've heard he's been on the engineering and science teams like a beast trying to finish and perfect the station's defense initiatives. Everyone took your attack particularly hard. At some point, I think you need to make a gesture or allow them to make a gesture on your behalf.” Gaven encouraged him.

 

“I'm not ready to see anyone yet. Not like this.” Julian muttered. “I...I just want more time. Just a little more time.”

 

“You can take all the time you need, Julian. You're just starting your recovery.” Gaven reassured him.

 

Julian sighed and shut his eyes. “I feel like nothing is ever going to be the same again.”

 

“You're right. Nothing ever will be the same. The universe rarely changes that much. But people? They change all the time. You're going to get through this.” Gaven insisted steadily.

 

“I can see now why so many people sing your praises.” Julian observed. “And most don't even know a tenth of what I know about you.”

 

The end statement sounded more intimate in Gaven's ear than Julian had probably meant it to be.

 

Part of him felt satisfied by the possibility.

 

For all their fighting and disagreements, Gaven found himself wanting Julian to understand him. Certainly, many of the others did to a limited degree. Kira and Dax liked to ask him about his culture frequently and often referred to the reading he'd given them. Captain Sisko also enjoyed conversing, and the two had regular weekly meetings together discussing the circumstances of Gaven's past and the value of his contributions now that he’d agreed to come to the station. People like Odo, Worf, and Miles preferred to take him as they found him and were generally uninterested in anything else unless it was pertinent to the safety of the station and, of course, Cheval knew him through their mind melds. But Julian? Julian Bashir was a strange case. On the one hand, he seemed frustrated that he couldn't seamlessly befriend Gaven as he did with so many others that intrigued him. And yet every time Gaven had allowed him an opportunity to become better acquainted, Julian had flummoxed the opportunity by either making a fool of himself or getting into a power struggle with him.

 

Gaven thought back to the things he'd told Julian while he was comatose. He'd done it to keep the doctor's mind stimulated, or so he told himself. The brain scans showed Julian's mind reacting to these conversations and yet...Now that Julian was conscious, Gaven wondered how much he might remember of them.

 

Before either of them could say anything else, Gaven heard the screen in his office ding indicating he was receiving another off station call.

 

This time when Gaven excused himself, he could hear Julian preparing to follow him. A good sign.

 

With his forearm crutch, Gaven was able to move with far more confidence.

 

“It's Doctor Fisk.” Gaven remarked.

 

“I'm not surprised. He's famous for his personal touches.” Julian remarked as he tucked his hands under his folded arms and hung back leaning against the frame of Gaven's office.

 

“Why Hello there. Dr. Ore, I presume.” A chipper sounding man with a Canadian accent said.

 

“Hello, Doctor Fisk. Your presumption is correct. Is everything all right?” Gaven asked.

 

“Peachy.” Fisk chirped. “I just wanted to say I'm almost there. I hate these computer systems announcing my arrival to places in advance like people are incapable of figuring it out for themselves.”

 

Gaven didn't remark on this statement but smiled lightly.

 

“Oh, and before I forget. I'm old, and it does happen these days...Don't bother meeting me. I'll find the station's infirmary on my own. We can save the fanfare for when this conflict with the Dominion is over. Okey Dokey, Pokey. Doctor Fisk out.” At that, the screen blinked off.

 

“Is he always like that?” Gaven asked looking over his shoulder.

 

“Ye-up. If he weren't so damn brilliant, it would almost be annoying. Trust me you'll get used to it almost immediately.” Julian reassured him.

 

“Okey...Dokey...Pokey...” Gaven repeated the words slowly with a humorous, whimsical air. “Must be a human thing?”

 

“Mhm, more like a Dr. Fisk thing.” Julian corrected.

 

“Hmph. Interesting.” Gaven let his head turn back around, and the men were silent for a minute.

 

Julian continued to focus on his turned back thinking in that space of time how he liked Gaven best this way. The times when they just sat or worked in silence together. Gaven was one of the steadiest people Julian had ever met, despite his occasional episodes of emotional instability.

 

Gaven could feel Julian staring at him and once again it brought about a quiver along his spine. This time though he simply allowed it to go on and didn't try to analyze it. This was the side of Julian Gaven preferred. The side of him that was quiet and reflective and the side of him that noticed everything.

 

“You should try for a shower today. That head wound is healed enough now that I'm not worried about it anymore. I'm sure you'd like Dr. Fisk to see you at your best, limited as that may be right now.” Gaven suggested.

 

“Guh. Yes. I will. I've still got the stink of surgical disinfectant on me.” Julian muttered.

 

“Mm. Are you going to be alright?” Gaven asked swiveling around.

 

“You're sticking around for a while, aren't you?” Julian asked lightly.

 

Gaven nodded.

 

“Then I'll be fine.” Julian remarked.

 

~@~

 

Forty-five minutes later, Julian appeared looking haggard and worm but the tidiest he'd been since before he'd been brought to the infirmary. He had changed into a thigh length tunic that was sapphire blue and dark slacks. It was a flattering color on the man, and Julian had intentionally picked it for that reason.

 

While he'd been away, Gaven had felt his blood pressure begin to climb and, worried it would lead to another nose hemorrhage or worse, had self-administered a hypo-spray to curtail the issue. The sooner Doctor Fisk arrived, the better. Gaven desperately wanted to return to his quarters to meditate then sleep off his miserable discomfort. If things progressed, in another day or two, he'd have no choice but to confine himself to his quarters entirely.

 

Still, it was worth sticking around long enough to see Julian looking more like himself again. It was a comforting sign of progress and healing. It also served as a reminder to Gaven of the fact that he did care genuinely about Julian. Until this moment Gaven hadn't fully intellectualized how much he cared, nor had he processed how afraid he'd been when he'd found Julian horribly wounded in the shop barely clinging to life. It was the fear that had driven him all through the long surgical process as he'd personally proceeded to try and save Julian's life.

 

Gaven allowed himself to feel his deep relief in the business, but the sensation was short lived. Just as soon as he'd settled into the comfortable feeling of accomplishment and compassion, other worries and private shames began to seep into his good feelings souring them. Where a pleased look of pride and satisfaction should have prevailed, Gaven's concentration began to drift and a mild frown set upon his mouth while he momentarily disappeared inside himself attempting to silence his creeping insecurities.

 

All his struggles were mostly lost on Julian up until the last second when the doctor stopped fussing over his appearance long enough to glance sideways at his companion only to suddenly see the colorless look of the other doctor's features. His stance was etched with fatigue and a sullen distant look of malaise sat upon his face like a mask. Up until that glimpse Julian hadn't considered things from Gaven's perspective. He now considered how the pressure to perform must have weighed on him all this time. Not just for Julian's sake, but for the intricate web of friends and associates who fretted over him. Julian had heard the subtle details from the Captain about Gaven's devotion to his care. Benjamin had such a subtle way of implying much while saying little. Why had Gaven cared so much about his wellbeing?

 

These thoughts produced an equally troubled frown of Julian's features as he stared openly at Gaven, both men now lost in contemplative thought as they lingered in the office.

 

“Well, well. It looks like I've arrived just in the nick of time.” A bright and chipper voice suddenly cut into the heavy space like cool water being thrown from a large basin flooding everyone's attention and causing both Julian and Gaven to break their contemplation. Both turned their faces up to the tall newcomer.

 

“You boys both look a little worse for the wear. If I didn't know better, I'd be hard pressed to decide which one of you was the patient. Doctor Ore, I presume? Good to meet you, good to meet you.” The tall elder doctor crossed past Julian to take Gaven's hand in a firm exaggerated shake with both his hands grinning a wide toothy smile that curled at the corners of his long rectangular face.

 

Gaven awkwardly stood as they shook hands and did his best to hold on for the ride, managing a thin grave looking smile of politeness. “Doctor Fisk, it's good to meet you at last.”

 

“Yeees. Likewise.” Fisk narrowed his small eyes at Gaven letting is glasses slide slightly down his nose to peer down at him over the top of them in a scrutinizing manner. He then let go of Gaven and turned sharply towards Julian. “Come along, let's get you boys settled down somewhere so we can all have a good long talk and get acquainted. I won't ask either of you to show me around just yet, but I do want to be able to jump right into the mix.”

 

The doctors settled into the somewhat large medical conferencing room just off Julian's office. Fisk seemed well updated in advance about the recent events on the station. No doubt he had been briefed in full before he arrived regarding current events and the various research efforts that Deep Space Nine was leading. He'd also been informed about Julian's condition and Gaven's identity though he seemed to carry himself in an endlessly open way that allowed everyone to feel like they could converse casually with him about any given subject as the natural conversation allowed.

 

“So, you've come down with a case of the shakes, I see.” Fisk said as he looked over the results of the most recent testing that hadn't been included in his earlier briefings before he arrived at the station.

 

“My assessment is that the tremors aren't neurological and shouldn't require more advanced internal medicine to treat.” Gaven remarked stoically.

 

“Yeees. It does seem to be rooted more in emotional and psychological trauma than anything else. Horrific brushes with death tend to do that to a man.” Fisk agreed. “Well, Julian the good news is that I see no reason why you can't continue your recovery at home starting tomorrow. I'm willing to let you bunker down in the infirmary one more night to give you some time to get used to the idea but after that, boy, it's outskies. You're getting the boot until I can prove your mentally and emotionally on the straight and narrow again. Think of it as a little vacation.”

 

“Wait, what?” Julian blinked a few times. “You're not expecting me to go off to my quarters and just sit there for eternity waiting to get better. I may not be good for much right now, but that seems a bit excessive to me.”

 

“Standard procedure. I'm sorry doctor, but you're taking a medical leave of absence. I'm not banishing you from the station, although a trip to Bajor might be good for you right now; but you are being kicked out of the infirmary formal for no less than the next eight weeks. I may be willing to shorten it if, and only if, you attend regular therapy with me and show significant enough progress for me to alter my medical recommendations. Come now, boy. I know you well enough to have high hopes that you'll be back in your office doctoring lickity-split.” The elder doctor said magnanimously.

 

“Gaven...Say something.” Julian demanded deeply scowling as he looked at Gaven expectantly.

 

“What? Do you think I have the clout to change his mind? I don't have seniority here and rightly so. I'm sorry, Julian; but if your positions were reversed you know you'd have to say the same thing to a patient in your position. And anyway...I agree with him. You need time. No one is saying you have to take it cooped up like an invalid, but you're not going to be able to maneuver yourself out of the situation so don't try. I'm sure Dr. Fisk has no intention of you changing your general routine.” Gaven flatly said as he huddled against the table looking tired and uncomfortable.

 

“You could at least pretend not to take his side for five minutes.” Julian grumbled dismissively.

 

“I'm too tired today for aimless pageantry.” Gaven remarked dryly.

 

“You'd do well to take some leave too, my fine fellow. You're looking a bit blue...Literally.” Dr. Fisk remarked on Gaven's unhealthy pale appearance that was making the blue veins under his skin far more visible than usual, nearly belied his alienness.

 

“Gaven, what's been going on with you the last few days?” Julian muttered leaning casually over the table and looking at him around Dr. Fisk.

 

“Hormonal changes. More evidence that your handiwork has paid off, doctor. There's no need to be alarmed. Though, I admit, I feel exceedingly uncomfortable and intend fully to retire to my quarters for the next several days without disturbance if that's alright with you, Dr. Fisk.” Gaven said, not meaning it as a real question.

 

“You boys do what you need to do. I've handled more rinky-dink operations than this on my lonesome. If I need anything, I'll let you know. Speaking as a doctor, I'm prescribing as much recreation as you can handle, Julian. Gotta get your motor skills back up to snuff. And as for you, my fine man, you need rest and recuperation. I might recommend a visit or two to me as well if you're willing. Unlike this one over here, I can't require you to pursue any mental health services under the circumstances, but it still might be nice to have a chat. Only when you’re feeling better though AND don't feel afraid to call me around if your 'Hormonal changes' start getting the better of you. I do make house calls. Well, this has just been splendid. I'm pleased as punch to be here to help. Come on, Julian. I want to give you my own once over, and we can swap stories. It was interesting meeting you, Doctor Ore. I hope we can become friends.” At that, the tall toothy older doctor grinned wide and all three stood up as he once again profusely shook Gaven's hand and then began to shoo Julian into an exam area.

 

Gaven tilted his head bewildered by Doctor Fisk's mannerisms and shook his head as he doggedly prepared to head home. “What a strange man.”

 

 

Chapter 17: Reflections and Returns

Chapter Text

Chapter Seventeen: Reflections and Returns

 

True to his word when Gaven, left the infirmary on the day Of Jeremiah Fisk's arrival he went directly to his quarters and stayed put. Strict instructions went out to everyone not to disturb him unless it was a critical emergency and word also began to spread that Julian Bashir was due to return to them all if not to his duties on the station.

 

Right off the bat, Jeremiah seemed to fit right into the station's operations. A naturally well-mannered man, if a bit eccentric, he quickly took over Julian and Gaven's rounds like an experienced grandparent overseeing the infant childcare of their grandchild. For being a gentleman of eighty-six, Jeremiah was surprisingly spry with dynamic energy and had a quiet getter-done attitude. Only slightly awkward, the man was old enough not to care if other people understood him or found him odd. What he cared about was getting results and having a grand old time while he did it.

 

“I must say, J. You are one lucky son of a gun. That doctor friend of yours is a certifiable genius at surgery. Look at that artistry.” Fisk mused as he gave Julian one last once over before he signed his discharge paperwork and sent him home as promised. “I can almost guarantee in a year or two you'll hardly see any scars and his scientific contributions...I'd almost kill to have his kind of mind. I just bet Starfleet would love to have him in their ranks for real. Think there's any convincing him?”

 

“Not a chance in Hell.” Julian muttered with absolute certainty. “Frankly, I'd say that he's justified in his feelings. The Federation and specifically Starfleet Command has made significant mistakes in handling him.”

 

“Yeees. Unfortunate, that. And all very hush-hush. Starfleet has never been particularly good about owning up to their mistakes especially when it comes to first contact scenarios. But maybe in time, we can make some of it up to him. In any case, I'm glad I was out this way. It's been a real treat to see his handiwork firsthand.” Fisk pulled back from Julian ticking the final checks off on his datapad. “Well son, I think your physically in one piece, and that means that it's safe for me to kick you out of here for a while officially. Don't worry. I know you'll be back to your antics in no time. Well? How do you feel?” Fisk asked stepping back to observe the other doctor like someone watching a somewhat complicated work of art.

 

Julian who had been staring into the floor glanced up now at the older man. “Honestly, Remi? Off the record, I feel downright afraid, and the worst part is I don't know what I'm afraid of. What if I never go back to feeling like me again?”

 

“Hm, that is a pickle. You haven't fundamentally changed, J. Oh sure, you may go about things a little differently for now. Think and feel things you didn't before, but that's not because your experiences have necessarily changed you. These experiences may simply be bringing out other aspects of who you are that you didn't know were there. While you're out on leave, I want you to focus on getting to know this new and different Julian. I want you to try to think about what this Julian needs, what he wants. Most importantly I want you to avoid making good or bad judgments about what you discover, at least until we start up your therapy sessions and we can look at what you've learned about yourself objectively and together. I also think you should touch base with your friends and support networks. The Captain tells me you haven't been willing or interested in seeing your friends. Now while I'm happy to explore with you why that might be, I want you to at least try to reach out to them in the meantime on your own. Let them know firsthand that you're alright.” Jeremiah advised him.

 

Julian knew that Jeremiah was right. He owed it to all his friends to reach out to them, and when he thought about why he hadn’t already tried, he found himself unable to justify the delay. He only knew that everything in him had wanted to avoid it.

 

“They could have come to see me.” He muttered under his breath as if trying to justify his actions.

 

Julian immediately felt himself shrink shamefully at his self-serving words. Gaven had told him many times about the visitors he’d had during his coma and after. If Julian had been unconscious or asleep during these visits then that had not been anyone’s fault, it was understandable that no one had been willing to rouse him for fear of damaging his healing process. The one exception had been the Captain. Benjamin had come several times, usually when Gaven was away, to brief Julian and to offer him words of quiet encouragement.

 

Both Benjamin and Gaven had patient diplomatic manners and caring natures that when combined with their focused introspective principles made them inspiring and trustworthy people. Julian had come to rely on both men. Benjamin because he was the station’s Captain and Julian’s ranked superior, and Gaven because he was Julian’s rescuer and his collaboration partner and fellow healer. Collecting up a few things from his office, Julian had the irrational thought that once he walked out of the infirmary, he wouldn’t return to it again. A silly notion indeed, given that Fisk had already arranged for his therapy checkups and medical follow up as a patient. Shrugging off the paranoid feeling, Julian picked up the small crate of things he planned to take back to his quarters and with a deep breath stepped back out of his office. For a second as he eyed the way out of the infirmary, he felt his courage falter and swiftly began trying to craft a plausible excuse not to be made to leave. But his irrational thinking was just as quickly cut off by the familiar sound of someone clearing their throat in another part of the infirmary a few feet to the side of him.

 

Turning his face, Julian almost startled. “Miles.”

 

“Hello, Julian.” Miles greeted him uncomfortably.

 

“I thought,” He began, looking awkward. “I mean, I heard you were being released today.”

 

The friends stared at each other.

 

“Oh, Hell...What can I say? I thought you might like a friendly face to walk you back to your quarters. I promise I’ve not let anyone plan any sudden surprises or ambushes. Though it was a mighty effort to keep Dax from throwing you a bloody fete the second she heard you might be coming home. You owe me a dart game for every day you’ve been in here, by the way. You’ve no notion how dull it’s been playing by myself.” Miles muttered in his Irish brogue, awkwardly shuffling where he stood.

 

“Darts may be off the table for a little while; but, huh, I could use a drink now and again. I hope the family are doing well? I’ll have to come by and visit Keiko and the new baby...Soon.” Julian said trying to get into the flow of their small talk.

 

“Oh...Oh, yes. We’d love to have you over for dinner when you feel up to it. Molly asks about you daily. And, Huh...” Miles began to feel his composure slip slightly and grew quiet briefly staring at his shoes.

 

 “Oh, to bloody Hell with it. You damn well scared the bloody piss oughta me, and if that deplorable changeling bastard hadn’t almost killed you, I might be of a mind to do it in his place.” Miles bellowed in faux anger, pointing roughly at Julian and turning rosy pink.

 

“Oh, Gads! I’m bloody glad you’re yelling at me. I’d much rather people yell at me then cry.” Julian let out a long, loud breath and shook his head for both their sakes as he walked up to Miles and clapped him hard on the back. “Come on, old friend. Let’s go back to my place and see if Quark will take pity on me and send over a bottle of bourbon.”

 

“Oh no, this calls for the good stuff. None of that space grade contraband swill of Quarks. I got a little Irish delight waiting for us already to go.” Miles reassured him in a conspiratorial tone.

 

“Don’t let Quark catch you calling his human spirits swill. It might hurt his delicate Ferengi pride.” Julian warned him with a chuckle.

 

“With those Ferengi ears of his, tis a wonder he hasn’t heard us down the promenade already.” Miles quipped giving Julian a manly side hug before giving an onward and upward sign with his arm as they walked in unison together out of the infirmary.

 

~@~

 

Along with everyone else that had been sworn off from disturbing Gaven, Jyrrus Cheval also found himself temporarily on the outs the day after Gaven had left the infirmary and sent word to everyone he was not to be disturbed. Cheval had not been explicitly asked to stay away, but he had also not been invited to remain with his friend either and greatly suspected it was best to leave Gaven alone at least for a while to cope in his own way with his troubles. It was logical enough, though his desire to be with Gaven through his ills was not. The impulse was purely an emotional reaction to wanting to be near him in a way that Cheval knew he should have been alarmed by.

 

As he sat settled in Quarks, looking like a grim Vulcan statue, his mind and memories drifting between those involving himself and Gaven and those involving him and T'Yel. It pained him to recall her accusations of him. How she had claimed Gaven had bewitched him and how she felt that Jyrrus had been swayed by him to favor Gaven over her. The most painful charge of all had been when T’Yel had accused him of no longer holding the position of his T’hy’la.

 

His soulmate.

 

Implying instead that Gaven had all but replaced her as Jyrrus’ most true friend and lover.

 

Despite their deep bond, despite all Jyrrus’ efforts; he had not been able to dissuade her from this opinion.

 

Cheval recalled how they had not spoken or looked upon each other again after that and how he had left the next morning promptly without her blessing or her departing presence.

 

Now back in the present, Cheval wondered at her many accusations searching for the probability of truth in them.

 

On the convoy to Deep Space Nine, Cheval had not made any plan as to what he was going to say to Gaven or how he might broach resolving their conflict. It was plain enough to see that Gaven had been alarmed to realize the depths of the disturbance he’d caused. It had been an unintended outcome on all sides. It was an accidental misunderstanding of the alien mechanics of their individual psychic and empathic abilities. Certainly, he had intended to come to the station to confront Gaven about it and to devise a way to mend things between them, but in light of what he had discovered upon reuniting with him and their continuous contact since; Cheval found himself considering things that had never crossed his mind until now.

 

Cheval’s mind drifted back to the evening he had found Gaven bloodied and nearly out of his wits. Fear had gripped him in a way he’d never experienced before as he’d ushered Gaven inside and begun to play caregiver for him. Never had he known anyone to be so beautiful in their vulnerability or so dignified in their suffering as he was. To the compassionate, it undoubtedly incited great regard regardless of the level of familiarity involved. To the sadist, it would have likely been exquisitely irresistible to resist enflaming.

 

Cheval noticed that when they were together, the strength of their shared awareness was more muted. No doubt because both were now aware of the necessity of self-control and psychic shielding and took care around each other regarding the matter to avoid unwanted agitation. As a result, his time with Gaven had felt more natural and comfortable, at times even pleasurable. When Gaven’s control had slipped allowing Cheval more access to his true feelings and continued pain, Cheval had responded with soothing mellow, emotional responses that tempered these negatives and provided supportive grounding. There had been one exception to this, where it was Cheval who had found the necessity to guard himself.

 

He thought back to the moments he had spent helping Gaven bathe and cleanse himself some days ago. Cheval had understood the situation even as Gaven explained it to him and had maintained a respectful and impersonal mindset about it. But he admitted to himself now that he had faltered somewhat towards the end when Gaven had turned in the bath to gaze upon him. Cheval had been quick to look away just before that point, hoping that Gaven would not read his true impulse which Vulcan discipline had kept firmly abated. Now though he permitted himself, in a place of objective reflection, to consider what might have been and he wondered again at T'Yel’s choice of words.

 

Among other things, the multifaceted Vulcan word T’hy’la also meant ‘brother.’ The gender modifier was not commonly observed off world but was in the old use of the mother language on Vulcan. T'Yel had deliberately used it in the masculine to lob her final and all-encompassing suspicion.

 

Friend, soulmate, lover, brother.

 

Within the objective place he had crafted in his mind for safety, Cheval reflected on the deep attraction he felt towards Gaven and frowned. Most elements of it he could understand in a way, but the intense and smoldering sexual attraction he’d experienced as he had wiped at Gaven’s bloodstained throat had been entirely unexpected. Vulcan’s despite their tendency towards logic did not reject the notion of all kinds of desire and if that had been all it was Cheval could have easily compartmentalized and disregarded it until he had cause to part from Gaven in full and go back to is life elsewhere. What disturbed him in the business was that the desire that had unmistakably come into his conscious awareness, easily rivaled other passions he had previously known and felt in his life. And though he did not venture the idea that it eclipsed his passion for T'Yel he understood it was a different kind of passion that was no less equivalent in strength and more pressing for its newness and the proximity between himself and Gaven.

 

Perhaps it was this aspect that T'Yel had feared the most. Certainly, she was aware of it in some abstract way, forcing Cheval to concede various points that T'Yel and Gaven had made both for his benefit and upon T'Yel’s behalf.

 

Did they both understand things that he did not about the situation? If it was so, he was beginning to catch up to them now.

 

Cheval sighed in controlled frustration as he attempted to consider how he was to proceed now. He felt suddenly claustrophobic as Cheval realized he was potentially trapped within a paradox he did not know how to extract himself from. Whatever Gaven might feel, he was honor-bound to observe his cultural strictures regarding love and sexual bonding. There were undoubtedly many other species who bonded for life with only one mate, though Cheval reminded himself that Gaven never once suggested it was a biological absolute like it was for other species. Their past discussion had indicated there was no real constriction involved outside of a societal and cultural one. Even if he had been interested and open to considering Cheval, there was still the matter of T'Yel to think on.

 

Gaven had made it clear, so far, that he was not interested nor willing to take on any other lovers or bondmates. Cheval had every intention of respecting his wishes regarding the subject, but it was also clear that T'Yel would never be satisfied with the same assurance of is disinterest.

 

Again, Cheval considered that T’Yel would possibly be justified in her threats to dissolve their betrothment and the thought profoundly pained him. He loved T'Yel and sincerely wanted to join with her completely, but he also admitted to himself that the situation with Gaven was a legitimate impediment to their happiness now. What was to be done? Was he to muddle along and allow fate to judge him and fling him how it chose?

 

Cheval thought on all of this with pensive and logical objectivity famous of all Vulcan’s when they genuinely tried. The only answer he could come to was to wait for more data before he let himself commit to any particular course. Though his problems were indeed worrisome and complicated, they could keep for now. Ultimately Cheval suspected the answers he needed would not be readily found on Deep Space Nine. They could only be resolved when all three of them were together, and for that, he would have to wait till his return to Vulcan. A dismaying reality, indeed.

 

Through all his contemplation, Cheval never noticed Quark watching him as he cleaned a series of glass beer mugs from behind the bar with a speculative look on his face. Doubly so, he also had no way of knowing that Elim Garak was also sitting at the bar Quark was manning watching the Ferengi watch Cheval. A look of rapt fascination was upon the exiled Cardassian’s face. Interested to see what captivated Quark’s attention so completely, only two things ever did, one being an opportunity for profit and another being social intrigue, Garak glanced back over his shoulder at the troubled looking and unfamiliar young Vulcan and then back at Quark.

 

“Is there an interesting story there?” He asked Quark as a broad smile broke out on the Cardassian’s face.

 

“Oh, but wouldn’t you just like to know.” Quark muttered to his friend offhandedly.

 

“I don’t seem to recognize that fine young man. Certainly, he’s not a member of Starfleet, nor here on a matter of diplomacy.” Garak observed, using his vast experience as a spy to discern these probable facts with ease.

 

“He’s a friend of our good Doctor Ore. My sources tell me they seem to have a little history between them.” Quark confided, not bothering to mention that he’d come by this information through less than honorable nor legal means.

 

“Dr. Gaven Ore has friends? Real ones? That is fascinating, indeed. I wasn’t aware that he moved in such ways.” Garak said in his light and almost melodic way of turning his phrases.

 

“Well...He is a very charming man when he wants to be, or so I’ve been told.” Quark confirmed.

 

“Oh, yes. Of course. I do not doubt it. What do you think could possibly be troubling the young man over there?” Garak asked idly.

 

“Hard to say.” Quark’s mind flowed back to what he’d heard and seen the last time Cheval had been in Quark’s establishment. “But if I had to wager a guess it’s either a lovers tiff or a bad business deal. Given who is likely involved, my money would be on the former.”

 

Garak blinked in genuine surprise before a boyish smile of pure and delicious delight blossomed over his features. “Are you suggesting that young Vulcan over there and our good Dr. Ore are lovers?”

 

“Well, if they’re not I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them wanted to be. Care to guess which one?” Quark remembered the look on Cheval’s face when Gaven had intimately drunk from his glass and grunted at the memory shaking his head. “People certainly don’t come in here looking like he does because they’re simply having a bad day.”

 

“Too true.” Garak agreed. “Too true. Well, if it is a case of unrequited love, I certainly hope something interesting comes out of it.”

 

“Oh, I have no doubt that when it comes to Dr. Ore, we are due to be amply satisfied.” Quark dared to mutter.

 

“Oh? Do you know something I don’t, you crafty man?” Garak asked leaning towards the Ferengi imploringly.

 

All secrets eventually hungered for an audience. “Let’s just say I have a strong feeling that our Dr. Ore isn’t quite all he seems to be.”

 

Garak looked at Quark with an unmoved expression that left Quark wanting.

 

“I assume you’re referring to the suspicion that he isn’t...Hm, how shall we say, altogether human? Oh, come now, my dear. I knew that much already.”

 

Quark’s conspiratorial expression began to deflate. Sometimes it was no fun talking to Elim Garak given his background as a Cardassian spy and Obsidian Order affiliate. Quark was perhaps more aware of Elim’s capabilities than most simply because he was a known scoundrel in his own right.

 

“If you knew that why are you just bringing it up now?” Quark demanded evenly in a hushed tone.

 

“I thought it was a common enough suspicion.” Garak lied. “You must admit his Starfleet record is one of the most atrocious snow jobs ever to be seen. Some amateurs I know could have doctored a better profile and at least come off halfway convincing compared to what’s presently there for consumption.”

 

“You looked up his file too, huh?” Quark asked rhetorically.

 

“In any case, it does put a rather interesting spin of intrigue on it all: an alien romance, an incognito imposter clearly under the Federation or Starfleet’s thumb. I wonder who the Doctor really is. He certainly seems to know what he’s doing at least so far as his occupation is concerned.” Garak observed.

 

“Well, he did bring both a changeling baby and our resident CMO back from the brink of death. He’s got my stamp of approval for the latter if not the former.” Quark mused.

 

“Yes, indeed. He is a most talented healer to be sure, and the station is very lucky to have him in the capacity of a doctor.” Garak agreed.

 

“All in all, if I were you, I’d keep my ears open and my head down. There’s been a Hell of a lot of drama going on around here as of late and then just lately it’s all suddenly settled down into a gentle lull. Something tells me something's going to pop soon and big. Mark my words.”

 

“I always do, my friend. I always do.” Garak tipped his beer glass at Quark and smiled knowingly, glancing over his shoulder once more just for one last glimpse. “The young gentleman has interesting tastes. I admire that in a man.”

 

~@~

 

Though it was awkward at first to see Miles out of the blue and have him protect him all the way home with scowls and head shakes as they passed people who might have wanted to approach them. The old familiarity between them eventually won out, and by the time they were back in Julian’s quarters and were a quarter of the way through the spirits, Miles had smuggled in for them to indulge in they were back in the swing of things.

 

“He’s beautiful, Miles. A real tromper.” Julian said approvingly as he looked through the collection of new family images Miles had uploaded to Julian’s datapad. How is Keiko doing with it all?”

 

“You know, before the baby came, we were all a little worried, between you and I, that Keiko might somehow feel differently than she did the first time with Molly. But, to be honest, I think that linking thing Doctor Ore did for us really helped everyone along and now you’d never know that Keiko didn’t carry our little Kirayoshi through the entire pregnancy. The family is all thick as thieves together.” Miles mused proudly.

 

“And Kira? How has she been doing being separated from the baby?” Julian asked.

 

At this question, Miles sobered a little. “Well enough I think, she is little Yoshi’s Godmother. We’ve tried to let them bond as much as Kira has felt comfortable with. I know in some ways it’s hard for her. It was hard for all of us. But I really do think it’s going to be OK. Plus, Kira seems to be enjoying helping Odo with his little bundle of terror so...”

 

Julian raised a brow at his friend’s choice of words.

 

“Don’t look at me like I’m a prejudice monster. I can’t help that having that baby changeling here makes my skin crawl; now can I?” Miles said reproachfully.

 

“It’s just an innocent baby. It has no notion of anything other than what Odo has been teaching it. To suggest you don’t trust its presence here is like saying you don’t trust Odo. But I understand your feelings, Miles. I don’t share them, but I understand them all the same.” Julian said sighing.

 

Miles quieted, realizing it was best to let some topics go. “With your permission, Julian. The senior staff would like to throw you a little party. Nothing big or fancy, just a small and casual welcome home kind of a thing. We all worried about you these past weeks. Now, if you’d rather see everyone on your own first, we could put it off or not do it at all. I just...I thought I would ask what you thought about it.”

 

“No.” Julian said flatly. “I mean, no, a party sounds fine. Might as well rip off the band aid all at once and all that. Hell, ask Quark and Garak to help. I’m sure they’d appreciate being involved too.”

 

Miles wasn’t quite sure what to make of his tone, whether Julian truly approved of the idea or simply felt obligated to agree with it. Sensing the tension in the space had begun to rise, Miles changed the subject again.

 

“I heard Doctor Ore is stepping out of the infirmary for a while. Given the amount of time he’s put into a job he isn’t even obligated to do, I suppose he deserves a break.” Miles began.

 

“Don’t you know? It’s not a break he’s taking. Dr. Ore officially asked the Captain to replace him with a real Federation doctor.” Julian informed him.

 

“What? Why would he go and do a silly thing like that? I thought he was helping us with the inoculation development?” Miles asked.

 

“He is...Er, he was. I don’t know exactly. All I know is that he told the Captain that he felt the project was far enough along for Starfleet to continue on their own.” Julian muttered.

 

“Is that true?” Miles asked genuinely curious.

 

“Well yes, in theory, we have enough information we could probably continue the research and development without his further input, but I’ve already told the Captain that I think doing so would be a mistake. That project is mine and Gaven’s brainchild. With me being forced into this blasted leave of absence I can’t work on it, and I certainly don’t like the idea of Starfleet just taking it away from us.” Julian’s tension was rising again.

 

“Huh. Well, maybe it's all for the best.” Miles said shrugging dismissively.

 

At this remark, Julian leveled a suspicious glare at Miles.

 

“What? All I’m implying is that maybe it’s right and good that Doctor Ore keep a lower profile. It isn’t as if he’s really a member of Starfleet medical or even a Federation civilian. No one denies that Gaven is a brilliant healer, but you have to concede that the more involved he gets on the station, the more risk he’s affording. He’s a bloody alien masquerading as a human. Don't you think there are some that would take issue with that in these times? besides, I'm sure the poor man might like to have a life of his own eventually instead of cleaning up after all our troubles.”

 

“I suppose.” Julian conceded irritably. “I just wish...I don’t know what I wish.”

 

“You want to know what I wish; I wish we could get away from all this cloak and dagger business going on around here lately. But since I can’t have that I guess I can try to be thankful for what I do have. I’m mightily glad you’re still here with us Julian. I don’t know what I would have done if that...If you hadn’t pulled through. Well, I suppose I should be getting on home about now and let you rest and get settled. I’ll let you know when everyone plans to get together if someone else doesn’t beat me to it.” Miles said wiggling his brows.

 

“Dax.” They both said in unison nodding approvingly to each other.

 

“You’re going to be alright, aren’t you? You know you’re welcome over at our place any time.” Miles asked looking a tad worried about leaving Julian to his lonesome.

 

“I’ll be fine, Miles. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to come around for a visit.” Julian said flatly.

 

“Right. Well, don’t hesitate to call if you change your mind.” At that Miles approached Julian and gave him a warm and lingering hug, the faintest sound of a sniffle sounding near Julian’s ear that was quickly covered by a gruff cough. “Alright, that’s enough of that. Good night, my friend. Take care of yourself.”

 

Miles pulled away abruptly and shuffled as he forced himself to regain his composure.

 

Julian waved him off and walked him to the door telling Miles again to wish Keiko and the children well for him. At length Miles Finally left and although Julian had been grateful for his company, he sighed a loud sound of relief once he was alone.

 

If this was what he was to expect with everyone upon first seeing them, it was going to be a long homecoming.

 

Julian walked back into his space and slipped into one of the dining chairs off his kitchenette. As of right now, he felt empty and troubled. He was disgruntled yet strangely at peace in the silence of his quarters. Maybe it really would all work out in the coming weeks. For the moment Julian felt hopeful that it would be so.

 

 

Chapter 18: Homecoming

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen: Homecoming

 

The first night Julian was home was a fitful one. As the evening had worn on Julian had tried to relax. He’d started with a simple, bland dinner, but had only taken a few bites before frowning and pushing his plate away with disinterest. Next, he tried reading one of his favorite spy stories but found it difficult to concentrate and ultimately gave up once his hands began to grow fatigued from holding the datapad. For a little while, Julian just stared at his wall or paced between the rooms aimlessly trying to figure out what to do with himself. He supposed he could always go out somewhere. Maybe to Quark’s. But the Doctor in him warned against overexertion. Trying to escape his discomfort wouldn’t help him deal with it, at least not so soon after returning home. Eventually, Julian simply stripped out of his clothes and started up a hot shower. This so far proved to be the best thing since the shower he’d taken in the infirmary had been swift and meant only to freshen him enough to be presentable.

 

In his home, Julian could take his time and truly cleanse his body. There was comfort in such simple things. He washed his hair first careful of the still healing wound along his scalp and then went on to lather his body methodically from head to toe. His hands felt along every major muscle as he checked himself for subtle signs of atrophy. He’d lost a bit of muscle tone which was to be expected, and Julian made a mental note that in the coming days he would begin a comprehensive exercise regimen to help regain his strength. A professional Racquetball player in his boyhood, Julian understood the advantages of physical conditioning that went beyond strength and endurance training. The exercise would help his anxiety and provide him with a sense of kinetic control that had been lacking since his attack.

 

After rinsing himself, Julian slowly turned up the heat on the faucet and merely let the hot water beat down upon him as he breathed in the steam deeply and slowly and let his mind wander. Not so surprisingly his thoughts drifted back to the carpet shop. Julian still didn’t remember much of what had happened. The attack had been so vicious and so swift it had all been a blur to him. Despite being savagely beaten what he remembered most in the attack itself was the initial blow to his head and the horrific feeling of his skin being lacerated open by the Yeti creature’s claws. All he remembered of it was swiftly clamping both hands to his skull to stem the bleeding as the beast continued its assault. Something he didn’t understand was why the changeling assassin had bothered to leave anything to chance. Though Julian had been grievously wounded and left for dead, it didn’t make sense that the assassin hadn’t just killed him out right then and there. Instead, the creature had beat him to the brink of death and then merely buried him and gone on its way.

 

Julian’s mind reflected on the time he had spent incapacitated in the shop, unable to yell or alert anyone to his presence. He rubbed at his jaw, which although healed now with modern science would always click a little and occasionally become inflamed all the rest of the days of his life. The stimulation of his hand triggered another memory. It was the memory of Gaven finding him. Julian had technically been unconscious, but he remembered when Gaven had biologically and empathically linked with him and the shocking feeling of Gaven’s powerful emotions suddenly flooding his awareness and cutting through the excruciating physical pain.

 

In retrospect, Julian realized he’d been fully exposed to the real Gaven in his purest form. The level of control the man exerted over his feelings were beyond anything Julian could have conceived on his own. His deep emotional conviction had bored down on Julian like a vice serving to rally and strengthen him as he fought to come back to consciousness. There were other feelings he could discern. All equally powerful and kept tightly compartmentalized. Fear, rage, confusion, righteous indignation, and shame. All of it was present in him. But beyond all the other feelings he could identify in Gaven despite not having the benefit of the context of them, there was something else. Something not as easily compartmentalized as the rest. This other thing had pulsed like a rapid heartbeat reverberating through his awareness like a thunderous taiko drum as if to demand his own heart follow suit and keep beating no matter the difficulty involved. This thing Julian realized, only now, had been Gaven’s love. It wasn’t a romantic love per se, though Julian could now rightly imagine the possible power of Gaven’s love if he ever had the mind to aim the force of the emotion at any one person. Instead, it was a kind of universal love for all things. This was the root of who Gaven was, and Julian didn’t need any further context to know it to be the truth.

 

It boggled the mind for a man, such as Gaven, who had been so put upon by the forces around him, to love as he did. The memory of that awareness caused tears to well in Julian’s eyes and since he was alone, and the falling water muffled all other sounds he allowed himself to weep for the sake of it.

 

Julian remained crouched in the shower even after the programed water temperature had begun to turn cold in order to encourage him to get out. Standing and stepping out only when his muscles started to ache in protest from the position he was crouched in, he turned off the water and stepped from the shower simply patting himself lightly with a hand towel ruffled it through his now very short, cropped hair. It was hard to say what had done him more good, the shower or the weeping, but he liked to think it had been a combination of both for he felt mightily more human and in control of himself after. Not bothering to dry himself the rest of the way off, Julian threw his towel idly across the room and pulled down the edges of his sheet and grey comforter slipping into bed fully naked and feeling like he might be able to sleep.

 

Just as he was settling in, however, the telecom beeped indicating he was receiving a quarter-to-quarter call. Tired and because Gaven had been on his mind, he half hoped the call was from him. Julian had grown accustomed to seeing the other doctor every day and sharing at least one of their meals. Considering the last cryptic things, he’d said before he left the infirmary, Julian wondered what he had meant. Fisk hadn’t been much help when Julian had asked him to speculate on it.

 

“Don’t ask me, boy. I’m just a doctor. I’m sure Dr. Ore is perfectly capable of coming back in here if he wants a consult on anything. If I were you, I’d leave it alone unless he brings it up first. Mystery is important in life.” Fisk had said, reflectively.

 

As it turned out the call was from, Dax.

 

“Well Julian, long time no speak. I just wanted to call and tell you that since you haven’t bothered to talk to anyone since you woke up, that we’re throwing you a welcome home brunch in the morning. I expect you to be there and to stay a respectable duration of time. Sedate yourself if necessary.” Dax muttered curtly.

 

“Hello, Dax. Good to hear your voice.” He muttered knowing this was her way of telling him she was angry with him.

 

“Isn’t it though?” There was a long pause.

 

“Dax...” Julian began.

 

“Don’t even try to apologize to me, Julian. Just do me a favor and show up tomorrow. That will be apology enough. The party is in the back of Quark’s at zero-nine-hundred, sharp. You better be there Julian. Dax out.” At that Julian was abruptly hung up on.

 

Figuring he probably deserved what he’d just gotten, which was considerably lighter a reprimand then what he had been expecting from Jadzia, Julian sighed and settled back into his bed. His body felt impossibly tired, but not surprisingly his mind was still active and wanting to fight his body’s urgings to sleep. Julian let his mind wander again, this time reflecting on all his friends and how grateful he was to have them all. Not being close to his parents and being an only child along with being forced to live a life of secrets had weighed heavily on him most of his life. His time on Deep Space Nine at the edge of the Frontier had done much to ease him and allow him to feel safe. Much of that could be attributed to the friendships he’d made. Yet even as thinking on all of that brought him comfort, there was a nagging seed of anxiety buried deep beneath his sense of personal security. Much of the privileges Julian enjoyed in more recent years was due to his affiliation with Starfleet. It was an affiliation that certainly would not have been possible if anyone had been aware of the genetic resequencing his parents had inflicted upon him when he was a child. What his parents had done had been highly dangerous and utterly illegal, and it had been some years before he had discovered the truth of their crimes and thus rejected them for it.

 

While Julian was generally open about who he was, the fact that he was a genetically modified human, living his life as if he weren’t; meant that many of the most important things people knew about him were a lie. The facts were mostly the same, but the context and background truth around those facts had always been carefully concealed from everyone around him. Known only to Julian and his parents. Sometimes it agitated him to think about it and how the exposure of the truth would have undoubtedly jeopardized his life and future that had always been so impressive to everybody.

 

Julian, of course, had no intention of ever revealing the truth to anyone. He’d spent so much of his later youth and adult life pretending, that it seemed impossible to imagine a life of absolute authenticity. Sometimes he wondered if anyone ever suspected the truth. Of anyone astute enough to even guess at the possibility, Julian had always pegged Garak as the one who would figure it out someday. But then again, Garak was an exiled spy, and though his talents were profound when it came to deduction, he somehow doubted Garak would have ever let on if he had suspected anything.

 

Once again, his thoughts drifted to Gaven.

 

Sometimes Julian wondered if Gaven knew about his secret. There had been times in the many months that they’d known each other when he’d caught Gaven steadily watching him to such an acute degree that it had made Julian feel completely exposed. There were other instances too where he suspected Gaven had caught sight of his real capabilities either because they had been alone together or because Julian had not been acting with the strictest of discipline.

 

There were other more obvious signs that Gaven knew the truth. It was suspect in the way he said things to him sometimes.

 

Julian recalled the day Gaven had left for Gulba IV. He explicitly remembered the private phrasing Gaven had used just before they had parted ways when Julian expressed doubt that he’d be able to help Gaven while he was gone.

 

“I know if you put your mind to it, you’ll make significant strides in your efforts and you’ll make it look a lot harder to pull off than it actually is, for someone like you or I.” Gaven had said in a low tone of voice only meant for them to hear.

 

At the time Julian had felt suddenly and transparently exposed under Gaven’s gaze and the way he seemed to imply they were more alike than different from each other. Considering that Gaven was also genetically and biologically modified, it was possible that he had been trying to hint that he knew of Julian’s enhanced advantage over his peers.

 

Julian perceived that if Gaven did know, or at least suspect things, then he had done much to protect Julian, never once bringing the question up or drawing attention to the times when Julian had not been as on top of his deception as he might have preferred.

 

Did he know? If so, why had he been so willing to protect him and go along with the charade?

 

Julian spent the rest of the night thinking about these questions and suddenly wishing for the first time in his life that he could confide in someone about who and what he really was. Genetic resequencing was so demonized among the Federation of Planets that Julian had never felt safe revealing the truth even to his closest and most beloved friends. Somehow it seemed appealing to tell Gaven. It felt safe, and Julian never felt safe when it came to the subject. This final thought felt soothing to Julian’s mind and spirit, and though it was early in the morning, he found that the more he thought on it, the more at ease he felt. In no time, he was finally asleep.

 

~@~

 

Julian would have overslept that morning to be sure if Miles hadn’t decided to show up to his quarters early to escort him personally. Like Julian, Dax had called him in the middle of the night and threatened that if he didn’t ensure Julian was on time and presentable that morning for their event, she would personally make both their lives a living Hell for their failure.

 

Not entirely sure what state he was to find Julian in, Miles had been sure to arrive a full hour and a half early so that there would be time to rouse and possibly sober Julian up before they had to be anywhere. Upon ringing him at precisely 7:30 at his quarters, Miles waited apprehensively for Julian to rouse and open the door.

 

“Come on; come on.” He muttered impatiently feeling stupid standing outside his door so long.

 

At length and only after ringing several more times did a burly eyed Julian appear looking exhausted but at least sober. Miles simply pursed his lips staring at him expectantly.

 

At first, Julian was confused by why Miles was there or what he wanted, but after a few seconds awareness very suddenly blossomed upon him. “Oh, shit.”

 

“Oh, shit is right. Look at you. You’re not even dressed.” Miles muttered in exasperation at the fact that Julian was standing in front of him with nothing, but a small towel knotted about his waist.

 

“Oh...SHIT.” Julian said more forcefully pressing the pad of one hand to his temple and retreating into his quarters. “What time is it? Please tell me I haven’t overslept.”

 

“No. You haven’t bloody well overslept thanks to me, but your burning oil fast. It’s already a quarter past eight. What have you been doing in here since last night? The place is a pigsty, and you’ve been home less than twenty-four hours.” Miles said in slight disbelief.

 

“I was thinking. Give me a minute. I’ll be back shortly.” Shaking himself more fully awake and muttering something under his breath Julian padded quickly back into his bedroom not bothering to shut the door as he quickly dressed and groomed himself.

 

He was happy to have taken his shower last night as it cut his prep time in half.

 

In the end, Julian was ready with enough time to spare not to have to run down the corridors and through the promenade, but he wasn’t so fast as to get out of making them both walk at an accelerated pace.

 

“Are you ready for this?” Miles asked as they went along en route to Quark’s.

 

“Assuming everyone has kept their word about keeping it low key, there shouldn’t be a problem. Hey, you want to try a game of darts later? The doctor wants me to try and, you know, keep with my regular routines.” Julian said.

 

“I’d like that, but I’m not sure if I’m going to have enough time later between this shindig and my work today.” Miles said regrettably.

 

“This evening maybe, just a test game?” Julian inquired.

 

“Can’t. I promised Molly I’d do some coloring with her this afternoon. With all this attention focused on the baby, I don’t want her to start feeling that we’ve forgotten about her.” Miles explained as they went.

 

“A father’s work is never done.” Julian remarked casually.

 

“You said it.” Miles agreed. “Still, it’s worth it. You should give it a try sometime.”

 

“Me? Oh no.” Julian shook his head.

 

“Why not?” Miles inquired, glancing sidelong at him. His was laced with mild surprise. “I bet you’d make a great father.”

 

Julian shook his head again quickening his steps utterly forgetting that he’d told Gaven something different then he was telling Miles now. “I’m not exactly a family type.”

 

“Why do you say that? You’re great with other people’s families — mine for example. Molly dotes on you like a relative. I know you’re not very close to your relations. I mean, I’ve suspected enough since you never once talked about them to me.” Miles observed.

 

“Yes, but your family is different. We’re friends for one, and I’m not being expected to raise your children or deal with them when they are out of sorts outside of medically, that is. In general, I don’t know that children really like me very much. They see me as the dreaded giver of shots and someone who ruins all their fun when they bang themselves up.” Julian muttered.

 

“Yeah well, you still have a lot of time. Who knows, maybe you’ll change your mind someday.” Miles said dismissively rounding the corner.

 

Quark’s was finally in sight.

 

“How do I look? I don’t know if I can take Dax’s wrath today.” Julian asked waving at Leeta, one of Quark’s Dabo girls, as she caught sight of them from a distance.

 

“You look fine. Wonderful for a man who was in a coma as of late. Stop fussing and let’s get this over with.” Miles encouraged him nodding towards Leeta as she suddenly disappeared to notify everyone that they were arriving.

 

Heavily sighing Julian tried to prepare himself for what he was about to walk into.

 

To his relief, everyone had seemed to stick with the low-key profile of the event. Those that were working were in uniform, but others like Leeta, Rom, Quark, and Keiko were dressed in casual though elegant enough dress. There was very muted music playing in the background in the style of soft jazz. There was only a small table of finger food, coffee, and lemonade set up along one wall being fussed over by Leeta who was, in turn, being micromanaged by Quark who was playing bartender for the room with a small tray balanced on his hand expertly.

 

“There he is.” Dax announced warmly, all trace of annoyance wholly gone from her tone and features which radiated only fond compassion.

 

“Welcome home, Doctor.” The Captain said demurely, taking Julian’s hand and shaking it with fatherly admiration.

 

After that everyone gently took their turn personally greeting him. To everyone’s credit they all managed to keep their composure, and if there were any tears, then they were shed discreetly and covered with loving and supportive smiles of relief and encouragement. Julian had to admit that he was glad to be there among all his closest friends. Benjamin had briefed the staff already about his leave of absence, and the rest knew enough about Starfleet to know what to expect. Though most of his friends were there, Julian noted a few absent faces. Kira wasn’t in attendance nor was Odo. Garak and Ziyal weren’t there either. When Julian inquired casually to Miles about this, Miles explained that Kira was babysitting for the O’Brien’s and would touch base with him another time, Odo had been there but had been called away early, and that Garak and Ziyal would be late for some unknown reason.

 

“He probably just wants to be fashionable.” Julian muttered as he sipped on some coffee and made small talk.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Julian saw Rom and Leeta conversing quietly in a corner and was surprised to realize that the two were an item. Or, instead, if they weren’t, they were planning to be soon. Julian had dated Leeta at one point and recognized the signals she was sending. Though he couldn’t quite remember Leeta ever looking at him quite the way she was looking at Rom. Maybe it was love.

 

It occurred to him then that Julian was surrounded by all kinds of love at that moment.

 

The very fact that everyone was there was a testament to the love they all felt for him, but Julian also understood that just about everyone in attendance was coupled. Some married, others dating, and others still standing in as each other’s preferred companions had they been present. Julian was the only genuinely single person there, he realized. Save perhaps, for Benjamin who was a father to all and Quark who was happy enough to browbeat his brother and Leeta at every turn when they neglected their duties so that they could moon over each other.

 

Feeling self-conscious for some reason about this fact, Julian shuffled in place, scanning the room again for lack of anything better to do. Everyone seemed keen on avoiding the subjects of his health and his recreational plans now that he was on leave. Not wanting to hover next to Miles the entire time, Julian searched for another ally and found himself wishing that Gaven was there. After everything he’d done for them all and specifically for Julian, he was surprised the Doctor wasn’t there with them mutually celebrating.

 

Moving towards Dax, he touched her elbow briefly and muttered his inquiry quietly. “Have you seen or spoken to Gaven at all?”

 

“No.” Dax confirmed. “I know that we were all told not to bother him, but, confidentially, I did send an invite to him via a com message and then via his datapad. He never replied. Frankly, I’m a little worried about him. He didn’t seem well the last time I saw him.”

 

“Yes. He wasn’t well when I saw him last either. When I tried to ask him about it, he waved me off and told me it was nothing to be alarmed about.” Julian muttered.

 

“Well, do you think he was downplaying something?” Dax asked.

 

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t put it past him.” Julian said evenly.

 

“There’s nothing we can do about it right now, I guess we’ll just have to check on him later.” Dax said reassuringly.

 

Julian might have pressed on about the subject more if it hadn’t been for the arrival of Garak and Ziyal. Both were dressed in complementary outfits that looked new and too fine a cut to be a mass production or a replication, suggesting to Julian that Garak had likely designed and crafted them himself. It explained his late arrival all too well.

 

“My dear, Doctor.” Garak practically purred as he let go of Ziyal’s hand while she grinned wide in her youthful innocence, watching Garak approach his beloved friend and held his arms open to embrace him.

 

Shaking his head and smirking at him, Julian played along and closed the few steps between them embracing Garak like a brother as they patted each other on the back. Of all the greetings that had been had, this one seemed the sweetest by far, and everyone who looked upon the reunion between the men was moved. After a long moment masterfully timed, Garak pulled away as Ziyal neared them.

 

“Ziyal. You look beautiful, by far the prettiest lady in the room. Thank you both for coming.” Taking her hand in his, Julian squeezed it and cupping her artistic hands in his own, brought them to his lips kissing her fingers before he released them into Garak’s possession.

 

“Oh, Julian. We’re so glad you're alright. I feel ashamed now to say I was so afraid we were going to lose you.” In her apparent innocence, Ziyal had not the tact to be anything else but completely honest about her feelings and concerns as tears freely slipped from her eyes causing Garak to dramatically produce a handkerchief for her as he shushed her and held her protectively at his side.

 

“None of you can get rid of me that easily.” Julian quipped glancing about the room to help ease the tensions with his jovial air of self-deprecating humor that everyone smiled at, even as he saw tears in many an eye being dashed away.

 

“I promise everything is going to be alright now. The doctors have assured me I just need some rest and relaxation. And in a few weeks? I should be right as rain.” He assured her stretching the truth a little.

 

“I think I can speak for everyone here when I say we are all glad to hear you say that.” Garak said candidly, knowing perfectly well Julian was saying it mostly for Ziyal’s benefit and loving him a little more for it. “Speaking of other doctors, is our mysterious Dr. Ore not here today? I was so hoping to make his proper acquaintance.”

 

“No. He wasn’t able to get away today I’m afraid. But when he can, I’d be happy to make an introduction. I find it nearly impossible to believe you two haven’t become friends yet. I somehow get the impression you’d like each other very much.” Julian pointed out.

 

“You know? You might be right. I look forward to the opportunity. Maybe in a few days, we can all take lunch. Well, my dear? Why don’t we give Doctor Bashir some breathing room and peruse the refreshment table? Hm?” Garak said turning affectionately to Ziyal and beginning to lead them away.

 

For the next forty-five minutes or so Julian spent his time circulating and catching up with everyone. One of the benefits of having been inaccessible for so long was that while Julian’s life had come to a standstill of monotony, everyone else’s lives had progressed as they often did. So, there was plenty of idle conversation to be had that didn’t require Julian to say a single word about himself, much to his relief. After a while, some of the officers began to excuse themselves so that they could get to their duties and even Miles and Keiko begged off encouraging Julian to stay back long enough for them to relieve Kira so that she might catch him before the party officially came to a close. Quark also left after a while to check on his front of house business outside of the back room, eventually also calling Leeta and his brother away to help him. This left just Dax, Benjamin, Garak and Ziyal behind.

 

Happy enough with this smaller band, Julian talked everyone into starting up a friendly dart game while he begged off to speak quietly with Benjamin.

 

“I hope you don’t feel put out about being put on medical leave, Doctor. I know it would never have been your personal preference, but procedure is procedure.” Benjamin asked gently gauging Julian’s reaction.

 

“Ah well, it couldn’t exactly be helped now, could it. I understand everyone is just following the rules and I promise I am trying to be a good sport about it. I do see the value of a little relaxation, and as for who you managed to find to step in temporarily, I’m more than impressed. Jeremiah Fisk is a superb doctor and an old mentor of mine.”

 

“Yes, I know. That’s why I selected him. I’m pleased that you approve. Have you thought about what you might do in your downtime?” unlike the others, Benjamin was in a position to ask Julian specific questions that the others had tried to avoid in open company.

 

“I haven’t decided yet, though I’m sure a trip to Bajor will be in the cards at some point.” Julian remarked speculatively.

 

They went on to idly converse as they watched the others attempt their hands at darts. Not surprisingly Dax was in the lead followed hotly by Garak. for Ziyal’s part, she tried one or two shots before bowing out preferring to act as Garak’s cheerleader instead of as an opponent.

 

After a while, Julian and Benjamin halted their conversation completely to watch the game.

 

In these moments of gaiety and friendship, the fact that a newcomer had arrived and was glancing about as if looking for somebody were lost on them all. Unnoticed, until Julian felt someone approach him from behind and address him in a dull, formal manner.

 

[1]“Doctor Bashir. I presume?” A man’s drawling voice asked, causing Julian to half turn and look over his shoulder.

 

“Yes? That’s me.” He muttered, trying to place the voice and failing.

 

The stranger was standing a respectful distance away and was dressed in a grey shouldered Starfleet uniform. He was a grave-looking slightly shrinking man a good decade, or so, older than Julian was. The man was balding through the top of his head, but still had a fair amount of fawn brown hair around the sides of his skull indicating that he had probably started losing his hair early in his adult life.

 

“I’m Lewis Zimmerman director of Holographic Imaging and Programming at the Jupiter Research station, and I’m here to make you...Immortal.” The man muttered in one long stream as he approached Julian with an almost bored look upon his face.

 

Everyone remaining in the room halted what they were doing as the gentleman made his introductions and exchanged quizzical looks with each other as he stated his business, effectively crashing their party.

 

With a confused look on his face, Julian glanced from Zimmerman to the Captain. “Do you know anything about this?”

 

Looking speculatively from Julian to Zimmerman, Benjamin stared the man down. “No. Perhaps it would be best to cut the festivities short and reconvene in my office. Mr. Zimmerman, if you would come along with me please.”

 

Benjamin spoke with infinite patience, but he was not pleased by the disruption of this proclamation and wanted to get to the bottom of it immediately.

 

Dax waited until Zimmerman was out of the room before she approached Julian, taking his arm. “Well, what do you imagine that is all about?”

 

“I don’t know, but I aim to find out.” Julian muttered in reply.

 

~@~

 

Thirty minutes later, Captain Benjamin Sisko was settled at the head of his conference room waiting patiently for Zimmerman to explain himself. Julian had arrived a scant few minutes after the Captain had but had taken a few minutes more to look up who Lewis Zimmerman was. His eyes widened in illumination. He then quickly joined the Captain entering the conference room last to stand near the door as Zimmerman launched into his explanation, not immediately sitting down.

 

“You’re familiar, of course, with the Emergency Medical Holographic Program.” Zimmerman began, finally easing down into one of the conference chairs on the other end of the table.

 

Benjamin kept his expression calm as he dangled an arm casually over his chair back leaning on his chair in the opposite direction.

 

“I’ve heard of it. It’s a hologram designed to provide medical assistance. During emergencies in Sick Bay.” Benjamin summarized simplistically.

 

At this response, Zimmerman rolled his eyes in a manner that was long practiced, and that gave him the expression of being put upon by someone far more ignorant of the facts then he was. “It does much more than provide assistance.”

 

Knowing that Benjamin wouldn’t appreciate the other man’s manners and tone, Julian interjected adding further context. “A holographic doctor can literally replace a starship’s medical officer during an emergency.”

 

Of this explanation, Zimmerman seemed to approve. “I’m surprised you don’t have one on the station.”

 

Benjamin looked as if he wanted to scoff at this gently spoken, but very apparent, criticism. For Zimmerman being a project director, he certainly hadn’t done any research about the station he was presently on. “The station facilities are Cardassian in origin. Most of our equipment is incompatible with Federation technology.”

 

“How unfortunate for you.” Zimmerman responded with genuine remorse, not for his insult, but for the fact that the station was not adaptable as of yet to support a technology that he thought essential and possibly even superior to actual flesh and blood medical staff.

 

Julian who had caught the inference just as the Captain had. And who had drawn the same impressions from it, rolled his eyes from behind Zimmerman’s back as he shuffled in place and leaned into the wall behind him beside the door listening.

 

“In any case,” Zimmerman went on. “The original EMH program was designed for short-term use only, but now Starfleet has requested a program designed to operate as a full-time doctor.”

 

“Full time?” Benjamin balked at the possibility a skeptical gleam shining in his eyes. “You're not talking about replacing real doctors?”

 

“No, no. Of course not.” Zimmerman muttered dismissively, as he shut his eyes almost as if in regret and rubbed at his temple as if he was exhausted by their conversation.

 

“Why is everyone so worried about holograms taking over the universe?” He asked no one in particular as he looked to the ceiling as if posing the question to some undetectable entity out in the void.

 

Once again, Julian interjected. Mostly to try to speed the conversation up so that Zimmerman would get on with his points and explain the reason he was there looking for him. “There are many situations where a holo-doctor could be more beneficial than a humanoid.”

 

“Such as?” Benjamin inquired looking to Julian whose opinion he trusted vastly more at this moment than he did Zimmerman’s.

 

“Research outposts, subspace communications stations, long-range exploratory vessels, and..” Julian was planning to go on before Zimmerman rudely cut him off.

 

“In short, anywhere that life support or living space is at a premium and where the primary mission does not require the doctor to leave Sick Bay.” Zimmerman summarized.

 

“I see.” By now Benjamin had taken the time to read through the briefing that had been sent to him on the matter and that he had failed to see sooner that morning because he had been helping Dax and the others with Julian’s party preparations. "So, I take it then that they want to model this new EMH program after our own Dr. Bashir, here?”

 

The Captain did not sound happy that Zimmerman had seen fit to invade their festivities uninvited and in public to broach the matter instead of waiting for a proper appointment and de-briefing with Benjamin personally first. For Julian’s part, he looked equally annoyed that he was hearing about this supposed honor now. It seemed that the concept had been in the works for some time. Certainly, long before the attack on the station had occurred.

 

“Technically, it’s an LMH--Long-term medical hologram program. And, yes, Starfleet Medical has selected Dr. Bashir to provide the template.” Zimmerman explained waving his hand in the air as he spoke.

 

“Wait a minute.” Julian interjected. “Why do they want me for the template? Just exactly what was the selection criteria involved?”

 

“Furthermore, who was the template for the EMH?” Benjamin asked.

 

“Me.” Zimmerman said flatly looking like a man who had been betrayed, but who had resigned himself to the hard facts of life by now.

 

“It was my program after all. It only seemed logical to use myself as the model.” This was said swiftly, and Zimmerman bobbed his head from side to side as he said it, looking forlorn and depressed. “I have to admit. I don’t know what the exact criteria were for the selection process. But I suppose they likely wanted someone...More befitting Starfleet’s exemplary ideals.”

 

This statement and the way Zimmerman said it spoke volumes about the man. Benjamin looked genuinely perplexed by the other man’s attitude and looked quizzically over at Julian whose mouth had fallen slightly agape until he caught the Captain looking at him.

 

“My, Doctor. What an honor. “ Benjamin proclaimed in an exaggerated manner staring at Julian.

 

“Hm? Oh, oh yes. Quite an honor. Indeed. I feel very flattered and important. Of all my many professional accomplishments, this, this, is certainly a feather in my cap. To be sure, sir.” Julian muttered crisply rocking back on his heels.

 

This time it was Zimmerman’s turn to roll his eyes at everyone else's tone and choice of words.

 

“It is nothing less than a shot at immortality.” Zimmerman said with poorly hidden exasperation. “The original EMH program will probably still be in use for decades to come. I know. I designed it for that contingency. But the reality is that the LMH program will undoubtedly last far longer than that. That is if I can work out certain technical problems.”

 

The last sentence was said almost under Zimmerman’s breath, as he adjusted uncomfortably in his chair.

 

A half a minute later Zimmerman pushed himself out of his chair and leaning over the table began to rattle off his list of demands. He expected the Captain not only to put him up for no less than the next three weeks when there was scarce free space currently to be had, but he was also expecting to be given full access to the station's central computer system and given full use of the station's staff to install special equipment that would likely have to be specially adapted for the stations foreign programming to be compatible with it. He claimed it was necessary for Zimmerman to be able link up with his Lab back on the Jupiter station.

 

The full list of his demands was exhaustive and no doubt it hadn’t been necessary to have it rattled off when it was likely outlined in the morning briefing sufficiently enough. Benjamin watched as Julian slowly became more agitated and to prevent him from stepping forward and telling the other Doctor off, he quickly rose to signal for Julian to maintain his control until Zimmerman left the room.

 

“Yes, yes Doctor. I entirely understand, and I promise that my First Officer, Kira is more than capable of seeing to all your needs. Though it may be a bit tricky to fulfill all your expectations given what’s been happening on the station as of late.” Usually, Benjamin would have taken the time to usher the man to his door, but the moment Zimmerman heard that someone else would be handling the arrangements that he required he swiftly turned away on his own accord heading out the door.

 

“You. Let’s go.” He said pointing at Julian and indicating he expected him to follow Zimmerman out of the room.

 

“Just a minute.” Benjamin interjected with such authority of command that Zimmerman froze in the doorway hunching his neck into his shoulders before glancing slowly behind.

 

“Yes? What’s the holdup? I have work to do.” Zimmerman demanded.

 

“As you can see, Doctor. Dr. Bashir is not on duty at this time and has been placed on medical leave for the foreseeable future. As such he isn’t obligated to take...Directions from you. But please, feel free to go on ahead and wait in my First Officer’s office. She should be returning shortly. In the meantime, I would like a word with my officer.” Benjamin’s tone settled into one of neutral politeness.

 

Zimmerman didn’t reply to this in words but instead grunted in exasperation at being made to wait and promptly left the room.

 

Per Benjamin’s signal, Julian promptly shut the door and locked it before coming back into the room to plop down into a chair.

 

“What in the bloody Hell was that I just witnessed? You didn’t recommend me for any projects, did you?” Julian asked.

 

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t know anything about it. But it’s a legitimate mission. See for yourself.” Benjamin handed Julian his datapad.

 

“Guh, By the Prophets. What exactly am I supposed to do about this?” Julian inquired after he skimmed the information.

 

“Technically you’re not fit for active service right now, so that makes you temporarily ineligible for the mission. But then again, it is a mission that you’ve been particularly recruited for despite that it seems like they’re still in the consideration process, if you don’t cooperate with this Zimmerman person, he may likely be reluctant to leave us. Mark me when I say, Doctor, that I would prefer him gone as soon as possible.” Benjamin said in his understated way.

 

“Yeah, I don’t particularly want him here either. I mean a few months ago, what he’s proposing would have seemed flattering and exciting. But right now...Right now it just feels invasive.” Julian admitted.

 

“It is a trifle mighty honor.” Benjamin agreed. “I’d congratulate you, but since you’re not happy about it, maybe it’s a moot point. You certainly have the right to turn them down provided they have other candidates in mind...”

 

“Would that be wise of me, under the circumstances? Starfleet has already dubbed me mentally unfit for duty. Standard procedure or not, until I’m cleared again, I could be looking at a slippery slope. Resistance to this project might look hostile on my part.” Julian muttered, noting that Benjamin was implying that Starfleet could potentially force him to agree.

 

Benjamin considered him patiently. “Well? Do you feel hostile about it?”

 

Julian leveled a look at Benjamin. “Do you want my on the record version of that answer or my off the record one?”

 

Benjamin wasn’t moved since both of them knew that at this moment he was intent upon letting Julian vent without any undue judgment.

 

“On the record, I’m very honored and proud to be considered for the LMH program. Off the record, I wish that Zimmerman chap had never come and I’m not looking forward to spending my first few weeks at home entrenched in his business which I’m sure will become very personal very quickly.” Julian muttered.

 

“Well, if you want, we can try to stall him. I’m sure you're not the only candidate he could be interviewing, you're likely just the preferred choice. Besides, once Zimmerman gets into it with you, he may discover some incompatibility that makes the business null en void.” Benjamin said reasonably.

 

“Yes. He did say something about there being problems he was still trying to work out. Depending on how big those problems are, the development of the LMH program may prove to be years away.” Julian speculated. “In any case, he seems to be a disagreeable sort. I hope I have the patience of mind to deal with him, but in light of what’s happened lately…”

 

“Try to take things easy, Doctor. You’ve only just started at your recovery. No one is expecting you to be one hundred precent yourself right now.” Benjamin reassured him.

 

“Yes.” Julian said simply, wondering how long such lax expectations would last. “On a separate topic, since I have you here, I was wondering if you’ve heard from Dr. Ore at all?”

 

“Yes, why?” Benjamin asked.

 

“Recently, like in the last twelve to twenty-four hours?” Julian pressed.

 

“Yes. We corresponded just this morning. Why do you ask?” Benjamin inquired.

 

“Well, it's just, I know you sent out instructions not to bother him, but he wasn’t at the party today and...” Julian was trying to avoid revealing that Dax had broken with their instructions and tried to contact him.

 

“You’re worried for his wellbeing.” Benjamin finished Julian’s thought for him.

 

“Yes. It’s just, he’s seemed out of sorts the last few days medically, and he won’t tell me what it’s about. His wellness has been so unstable since arriving on the station and well, as a doctor I worry for him.”

 

“I bet you worry for him even more as his friend.” Benjamin pointed out transparently before continuing.

 

“The Oum are a complex culture. Though likely considered an eccentric by his kind, Dr. Ore is an equally complex man. Privacy seems to be important to him. As far as I know, he seems well enough. His daily updates are still coming in as they always do so I at least have no sense of alarm just yet.” Benjamin said carefully.

 

“But there is a reason he’s sequestering himself right now, and there is a chance he could be at some risk?” Julian pressed.

 

“I trust in Dr. Ore to make appropriate decisions about his wellbeing. Beyond that, I won’t comment on what I know little about. I will reiterate that Dr. Ore has asked that he be left alone, and I feel that he is entitled to have his wishes respected in this case.” Benjamin said, diplomatically.

 

Notes:

[1] Pages 278-384 are a reworking of Julian Bashir’s character arc as presented in the episode “Doctor Bashir, I Presume” (DS9:S5:E16). Some of that episodes dialogue were used directly.

Chapter 19: Impending Dread

Chapter Text

Chapter Nineteen: Impending Dread

Later that day, after a frustrated Kira had begun to set up a plan of action to hurriedly meet Doctor Zimmerman’s demands, Julian had tentatively agreed to meet with him just to go over some details of the mission and what information Zimmerman might want from him. It was something of a relief to have Miles working hurriedly in the background trying to adjust the computer system as he talked with Zimmerman.

“Gads, this is a long questionnaire.” Julian protested as he scanned through the datapad that Zimmerman had given him.

“Yes. I pride myself on my attention to detail.” Zimmerman replied choosing to ignore the criticism for what it was.

Julian resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he read one of the questions aloud. “Compare and contrast your eating habits at age five with those of ten, fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five.”

Overhearing this, Miles paused in his task to look over his shoulder as he muttered something along the lines of ‘that’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard’ under his breath, rolling his eyes and turning back to his work.

Miles’ disdain was not lost on Zimmerman.

“It will be necessary for the holo-doctor to interact naturally with patients for weeks, possibly even months. The doctor will be expected to share amusing anecdotes, extend sympathy, swap dirty jokes, and even have culinary opinions formed by experience. I assure you these questions are far from stupid or ridiculous.” For once Zimmerman seemed genuinely proud and even giddy about his work.

At this ambitious list, Miles turned around again to look at him with a bewildered expression on his face. “Do you mean to tell me that this program is going to include all of Julian’s personal likes and dislikes? Is that really necessary? “

“Of course it’s necessary.” Zimmerman replied passionately. “That’s why we bother to choose a human template in the first place.”

Zimmerman shook his head as if trying to ward away the audacity of his work being criticized.

“Look, all I’m saying is it seems a bit ridiculous. This thing is a hologram. He’s not real. What does someone care what it’s opinion is on anything other than doctoring.” Miles muttered.

“Look. How about you do your job and let me try to do mine. This isn’t a matter up for debate.” Zimmerman began.

“Alright, alright. Everyone calm down. I don’t have a problem answering these questions, it just may take some time. Why don’t I take you out for a drink Doctor and let us get better acquainted? Jupiter’s a long way away and I’m sure you could use some down time while our staff gets everything situated for you.” Julian offered, realizing that a fight was liable to break out if he didn’t do something.

“I...Suppose that would be agreeable. I assume you had something in mind?” Zimmerman asked, regaining his composure.

“Oh, I’m sure I know a few good places that should satisfy you.” Julian replied. “Come on.”

~@~

A short time later, Julian and Zimmerman were perched at Quark’s watching the crowd excitedly gamble over Dabo while Quark’s Dabo Girl Leeta egged them all on and used her jovial sex appeal to drive up the bets. There was no mistaking that the young woman was good at her job and very easy to look at.

To Julian’s surprise, Zimmerman seemed to relax easily in the active and exciting environment going so far as to smile, an effect that took a decade off his usually sour features. Julian also noticed how he openly stared at Leeta, his eyes sparking with amusement and glee as she bounced about and roused the circle of Dabo players in her tight earth tone body suit that left little to the imagination.

“I must say that we don’t have anything like this on the Jupiter Station. Or like her.” Zimmerman muttered in a dreamy fashion. “Who is she?”

A little caught off guard by his ardent tone, Julian considered Zimmerman sidelong and then looked back at Leeta remembering how she had once seemed equally as captivating to him.

“Her name’s, Leeta. An ex-girlfriend of mine.” Julian wasn’t sure why he had felt the need to include the second detail, but a part of him didn’t quite like the wanton glimmer in the other doctor’s gaze.

“You’re kidding.” Zimmerman remarked. “Who broke it off?”

“She did.” Julian muttered flatly taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh.” Zimmerman muttered, returning his gaze to Leeta. “I like her already.”

Julian’s mouth dropped open slightly as he saw this information only seemed to encourage Zimmerman as he remarked about adding her name to his interview list, making a notation on his datapad.

“I might also point out that I believe she’s seeing someone.” Julian muttered as he watched Zimmerman in mild disbelief.

“Oh, that doesn’t bother me. A lady can change her mind, after all.” Zimmerman muttered undeterred.

Resisting the urge to scoff, Julian re-focused his attention on the interview Zimmerman had mentioned. “Excuse me, Sir. But may I ask, what interviews?”

“Standard protocol for my work. I’ll be conducting in-depth interviews with everyone. Friends. Colleagues. Family members. It’s all in order to build a more well-rounded psychological profile for the LMH program.” Zimmerman explained.

“Oh, I see. Well by all means talk to who you’d like on the station. But, my family, do you think you could leave them out of all this? We’re not close and haven’t been for many years. I’d just rather they not be involved in my personal affairs. Do you mind, as a personal favor to me?” Julian implored him.

“Oh. Well. I’m sure I understand and since you don’t have a relationship with them it would be easy enough to exclude them given, they wouldn’t really have anything relevant to add.” Zimmerman agreed.

“I appreciate that. Well, Doctor. If you’ll excuse me, I think I will return to my quarters and retire for the evening. Do excuse me and enjoy yourself. I’d be willing to meet up tomorrow and work on the rest of your questionnaire.” Julian offered.

“Yes, of course. Tomorrow then.” Zimmerman muttered dismissively waving him off and returning his gaze to Leeta.

The moment Julian was out of sight and earshot, Zimmerman plucked up his datapad and made a swift note to himself. “Note: Contact subject’s parents immediately.”

~@~

The next morning, Zimmerman began his interview process covering almost all of Julian’s closest friends and colleagues. The one person not on his immediate list was Gaven, but once Zimmerman discovered Gaven had been working closely with the other doctor and was responsible for the medical interventions that saved his life he was hard pressed to speak to him. Unfortunately, it was quickly discovered Gaven was not immediately available. Undeterred Zimmerman tried several times to contact him at his personal quarters but was disappointed when the man seemed to ignore all his calls. Growing increasingly frustrated at not getting his way, Zimmerman ultimately went to the Captain with his complaints.

“Look. I don’t mean to be a bother, but I really do need to include Doctor Ore in my interviews. And I don’t understand why no one is letting me speak to him.” Zimmerman protested pacing in Benjamin’s office.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Doctor. But Doctor Ore is on a leave of absence and has requested not to be disturbed. Certainly, no one is keeping you from him. I’m sure in a few weeks he would be happy to meet with you and discuss Doctor Bashir.” Benjamin reasoned.

“I see. Let me be clear. I cannot complete the new personality algorithms for the LMH program without the valuable information these interviews are designed to provide. Doctor Ore may be one of the most important interviews yet because of his extensive working relationship with Doctor Bashir. Not to mention the fact that his close proximity during and after Doctor Bashir’s attack will allow me to ascertain what are current anomalies in the doctor’s personality versus what he was like...before his unfortunate assault.” Zimmerman insisted.

“I’m sorry, Doctor. It simply can’t be helped. Now I’m sure if you’d like to leave a list of questions then maybe Doctor Ore would be kind enough to answer you in writing at his convenience.” Benjamin reasoned.

Realizing finally that he wasn’t going to be able to force the issue, Zimmerman changed tactics softening his tone and settling politely into a chair folding his hands in front of him.

“I can appreciate that there’s been quite a bit of trouble on the station in recent months and that key medical staff were either wounded or placed into a position of extreme duress. Perhaps, and I say this very tentatively, you could arrange a com interview. I’d send a questionnaire, but these interviews are intended to be more organic in nature.” Zimmerman requested humbly.

“Let me see what I can do. But, Doctor. If Doctor Ore decides he doesn’t want to be disturbed, then that’s the final word.” Benjamin warned him.

“Of course. Of course.” Zimmerman said assuredly.

~@~

A little later that day while Zimmerman was distracted with a date, he’d arranged with Leeta, Benjamin took the time to stop by Gaven’s quarters. Dr. Fisk, per his promise, was already there making his house call.

It was Fisk who answered the door.

“Hello Doctor, and how is your patient today?” Benjamin inquired.

“Ah good afternoon, Captain. Doctor Ore is resting. He’s approaching the worst of his condition now, but I’ve managed to find a pain reliever that seems to be curtailing the jist of it for the moment.” Fisk explained. “The Oum biology is remarkable. Just remarkable.”

“Doctor Ore is a fascinating individual in general, Doctor. His biology notwithstanding. In your opinion, would it be better if he were moved to the infirmary?” Benjamin inquired.

“Oh no. This is a natural phenomenon. Everything about it ultimately seems to be stable enough so as long as he wants to remain here, and no advanced treatment is required then I’m pleased to let him remain at home.” Fisk replied.

“Do you think it would be possible for me to speak with him?” Benjamin asked softly.

“I think that would be alright. He’s certainly awake, though the medicine I gave him might make him seem groggy and he is still in quite a bit of pain. Please, go in. I’ll stick around till you’re done.” Fisk indicated towards the bedroom.

Preparing himself for what he might see, Benjamin entered the bedroom to find Gaven propped up in bed. His shirt was off, but the light sheet had been pulled up and neatly tucked around his chest. Benjamin noted how Gaven’s skin had taken on a decidedly eggsHell blue tint and the major arteries and veins in his throat and face were clearly visible and looked black under his skin as they pulsated to the tempo of his heartbeat, strong and quick. Gaven’s eye lids were rimmed in dark red making them seem almost like they were bleeding, and his eyes were dilated and bloodshot. Despite his shocking appearance which left no question of his alienness, he looked like he was in pain but was peaceful enough.

“Captain. So good of you to drop in.” Gaven’s tone was raspy and quiet, but a soft smile played along his mouth. “What can I do for you?”

Compassion filled Benjamin's face as he neared Gaven’s bedside and sat down in the chair to Gaven’s left taking up his hand to squeeze it. What most people didn’t know was that Gaven and Benjamin were well acquainted by now, Benjamin being in the position of handler for Starfleet since it had been conceived to establish the man on Deep Space Nine. Benjamin knew more about the specifics of Gaven’s past. Not all of it. But enough to see him differently than the others and to treat him with more consideration. He had long benefited from many personal and private conversations with him that the others had not been privy to. Since his first arrival on the Station, regular conferences with Benjamin were common and Gaven sent him daily reports making the Captain the most consistent person to talk to him. Considering their dynamic Gaven was at ease to tell Benjamin things he wouldn’t have told others.

“There’s a doctor visiting the station. He’s here investigating Doctor Bashir for a groundbreaking technological advancement that they want to model after him. Doctor Zimmerman has been conducting interviews with everyone regarding Doctor Bashir and he’s keen on speaking with you.” Benjamin explained.

“I know. He’s been around here half a dozen times and has sent me endless requests in writing. I must say, whoever this Zimmerman person is, he is nothing if not persistent. I’ve read the outline for the LMH program. I had no idea any such technology existed until now. I could see how it could revolutionize long range medicine, not to mention, help people who maybe didn’t have regular access to qualified medical personnel. Though I must admit, I’m having a hard time picturing a second Julian romping about the universe long after everyone else is dead and gone.” Though his features were drawn with pain, Gaven’s sardonic sense of humor still managed to shine through.

“You don’t have to talk to Zimmerman if you don’t want to.” Benjamin offered, clasping Gaven’s hand more firmly as a seizure like spasm ripped violently through his body momentarily making him unable to reply to the Captain.

After several minutes, Gaven recovered himself enough to reply. “It’ll seems suspicious if I don’t eventually deal with him. Zimmerman strikes me as the relentless type, if he thought something was amiss, I feel as if he would want to pry. But as you can see it’s just not possible right now to speak with him and won’t be till, I’ve overcome the peak of my present experience.” Gaven said regrettably.

“Is there anything we can do for you?” Benjamin asked.

“Doctor Fisk and I have been discussing the advantage of placing myself in stasis during the worst of it. But if I do that I can’t guarantee when I’ll come out of it again. Could be hours, could be days.” Gaven explained.

“You put yourself in stasis after the Vulcans found you, didn’t you?” Benjamin asked, recalling the detail from their past conversations.

“Yes. It was safer at the time for everyone involved given my delicate mental and physical state.” Gaven confirmed. “I was pulled out of stasis by Jyrrus Cheval later when the Breen attacked. In a sense, he saved my life twice over. First, by alerting the other Vulcans to my presence in space and then by awakening me before the Breen attack destroyed the freighter.”

“Would going into stasis relieve your condition?” Benjamin wondered.

“It would compartmentalize me from it until it passed. Yes.” Gaven affirmed.

“What about pulling you out of stasis in an emergency?” Benjamin pressed.

“Bringing me back into awareness is a matter of a shot of adrenaline to the heart. The stimulus will trigger a sudden return. Not ideal, but effective.” Gaven explained.

“I see.” Benjamin nodded. “Well, Doctor. Let us hope it wouldn’t come to that. I’ll let you rest.”

Benjamin let go of Gaven’s hand, guiding the tense limb back to his side before he rose out of the side chair and joined Dr. Fisk in Gaven’s living room.

Jeremiah had been reorganizing his medical bag when the Captain came out.

“Well, looks like I've done all I can do here. So Captain, I heard Doctor Lewis Zimmerman is poking about the station interviewing everyone he can get his hands on.” Jeremiah remarked.

“Yes. He's here working on the new LMH program. Are you familiar with his work, Doctor?” Benjamin asked waiting for him as he finished putting his things away.

“Yeees. I was there when the medical board cleared the original EMH for widespread use. Was never much of a fan of the concept, but I'm old fashioned. I know Lewis can be a bit of a handful, I had him as a student at the Academy. If he gets out of hand let me know. Lewis can be a bit...Devious when he's trying to get his way. Something about the holo engineering field always seems to attract ducks like him. Is Doctor Bashir excited about the opportunity?” Jeremiah asked.

“Not as much as I suspect he might have been in the past.” Benjamin replied.

“It's fascinating how priorities can change. Well, I'm off. Do have a good day, Captain.” At that, Jeremiah snapped his med bag shut and walked into the bedroom to give one final look and tell Gaven he'd call again soon.

~@~

Later that evening, Julian found himself back in his quarters. He'd spent most of his day with Zimmerman going over more questions and getting a preview of his holographic template. The experience, though scientifically interesting, had also been somewhat unnerving and had strangely reminded Julian of the fact that he'd already had a copy of himself running about the station after he'd been attacked. While Zimmerman had assured him that the LMH’s personality would improve once the proper algorithms had been finished, Julian found himself little comforted. Mostly because it occurred to him that the hologram would never truly be like Julian. It would merely be limited to the person he pretended to be. In the past he might have never thought about it, but in the now the idea bothered him.

All day Julian had felt a strange sense of impending dread. A feeling that left him worried and dissatisfied with himself and everything around him. As much as he wanted to blame it all on Zimmerman and other recent events, a small part of him admitted that what he was most disgruntled by was the fact that Gaven hadn't reached out to him yet and that Julian wasn’t able to reach out to him in return. It occurred to him that, Julian didn’t like when Gaven kept secrets from him or chose to exclude him from his confidence. While this had always been the nature of their relationship, in recent weeks Julian had been the beneficiary of Gaven’s steady attention and though he had rarely talked about himself all that time, Julian felt that they had somehow crossed a bridge with each other that now made it possible for the men to become actual friends and not just polite colleagues. With the probable exception of Jyrrus Cheval, Julian was almost sure he was the closest thing now to a real friend Gaven had.

“Maybe, I’ll just. Try to stop by.” Julian said allowed as he stood and planned to leave.

However, just as he was about to exist his comm began to sound indicating a priority call. It was Dax.

“Hi Julian, the Captain would like you to meet him in his office. There’s something we think you should see.” Her tone was light and excited.

“Huh. Sure. I’m...On my way.” Julian muttered, privately perplexed at what could possibly be so important.

Deviating from his plan Julian went directly to the Captain's office. Dax wasn’t in sight when he arrived, but there was an easy looking Benjamin sitting at his desk waiting for him.

“Good evening, Sir. Was...There something you needed?” Julian felt awkward being out of his uniform just then.

“Come in Doctor, please. It seems we have another unexpected pair of guests to see you.” Benjamin said smiling.

Just then a bright-eyed Dax practically skipped into the room. “Hello, Julian. Sorry to interrupt, sir, but the visitors to see Julian have arrived.

“Well? Send them in.” Benjamin encouraged.

Dax nodded and made a motion from the outer door for the guests to reveal themselves.

As Julian looked on at the scene a look of shock came into his expression followed by internal horror as he saw both his estranged parents approach slowly. Looking as if they were seeing a ghost resurrected before them in flesh and blood.

Unable to hide his alarm Julian’s mouth dropped open as he resisted the temptation to sneer. “Oh…My…God.”

Tears were visible in the Bashir’s eyes as they silently approached their son stopping just short of him as his mother extended her arms to gently embrace him.

“Oh, Jules. We were so worried. Look at you though.” His mother touched his face idly as if to ensure he was actually there before pulling away to compose herself and dab at her eyes.

The moment she was out of the way Julian’s father exuberantly embraced him tightly. “My dear beloved boy.”

 

It was all Julian could do but pat his father stoically on the back as if he were clinically reassuring a patient. In reality he wanted to throw his father off him and simply stormed from the room. Instead, he caught the warm looks on both Dax and Benjamin’s faces and forced himself to curb his shock and anger into something that at least could have passed for polite emotionality.

“Uh, Captain. Allow me to introduce Amsha and Richard Bashir, my parents.” His voice was quiet and low as he struggled to cover his deep seeded distress.

Stepping around his desk, Benjamin shook hands with Julian’s father clearly delighted to be introduced to them.

“I’m Captain Benjamin Sisko. Welcome to Deep Space Nine.” Benjamin said, smiling.

“Thank you, Captain.” The Bashir’s said. “We wanted to come sooner. As soon as we heard Jules was wounded, but we were too far away for the message from Starfleet to get to us in time. We are so grateful you have taken such good care of our son. We were completely ignorant of his current condition until we arrived.”

Dax came around then to stand beside Benjamin as the Bashirs sunk down into some nearby chairs, Amsha gripping Julian’s hand like a vice forcing him to come around the table with them.

“We assure you both, everything that could have possibly been done for Julian was done.” Benjamin said proudly.

“Doctor Gaven Ore, was simply amazing.” Dax agreed.

“We must take time to thank him personally then.” Amsha said.

“We owe him a great deal of gratitude.” Richard Bashir agreed.

Julian grunted at these remarks. For once he was glad that Gaven was unreachable now. Under no circumstances did he want his parents to meet anyone else unless it was absolutely necessary.

 

“Well tell us about yourselves. What is it you do, Mr. Bashir?” Dax asked.

“Oh...I’ve done many things.” Richard Bashir said dismissively feigning a humble air that he by no means felt. “At the moment, I’m involved in landscape architecture designing public spaces, parks mostly. I love the idea of working on projects that thousands of people will enjoy long after I’m gone. They’re my...legacy. My gift to succeeding generations. Aside from Jules here, of course.”

How curious that his father thought to include him, Julian thought darkly as he listened to his father rattle way. His clenched jaw softened only when his father took a moment to look back at him proudly. This caused him to relent a little. Julian knew that despite it all his parents did love him. He loved them too, but that love was forever spoiled for him thanks to their actions.

“You must be very proud of your son.” Benjamin remarked approvingly.

“Yes.” Amsha agreed. “He is our greatest joy. We are so grateful to everyone here for taking care of him.”

“I hope he has done you all an equal service. There was a time we weren’t sure Jules would pursue medicine. You have to push children sometimes if they are to achieve their full potential.” Richard Bashir said firmly.

At this remark, Julian shifted uncomfortably doing his damnedest to avoid rolling his eyes at his father.

More sensitive to her son’s feelings then her husband was, Amsha hushed her husband and encouraged him to swap fatherly anecdotes with the Captain another time.

“We are much relieved now to see our beloved Jules is well. Perhaps we should take this time now with him.” Amsha encouraged gently.

“Oh, yes. Of course. Maybe we could also visit with Doctor Zimmerman later as well. He caught us looking for Jules earlier.” Richard said.

“Zimmerman? What did he want with you?” Julian asked sharply.

“Something about interviewing us for a project he’s working on with you. We love to support your work.” Amsha explained.” He was very persistent and told us he had been planning to contact us.”

“I just bet he was persistent, indeed.” Julian muttered darkly.

Shaking off his seething anger that he was struggling to conceal Julian quickly changed tactics. “Well, why don’t I see if I can drum up some accommodations for the both of you tonight. If you’ll excuse us, Captain.”

“Of course.” Benjamin agreed.

“We hope to get a chance to speak to you soon. I’d love to hear some family stories.” Dax said kindly.

Julian let everyone say their goodbyes before he ushered them out of the room.

~@~

To his credit Julian managed to keep his composure as he spent the next half hour settling his parents in. To his advantage they’re journey had been long, and both were eager to rest and gather their strength without much conversation.

Once he left them his anger began to bubble more freely. Mostly centered around the thought that Zimmerman had been planning to go back on his word all along. In desperate need of a target, Julian went in search of the Doctor finding him easily testing the LMH with Miles.

“Chief, if you’ll excuse us. I’d like to have a moment or two alone with Doctor Zimmerman.” Julian had such a look of focused seriousness on his face that Miles immediately left them alone, sensing something was about to go down and not wanting to be in the crossfire.

 

“You lied to me. You had every intention of summoning my parents here despite explicitly promising me that you wouldn’t involve them in the LHM project. How dare you do such a thing.” Julian said angrily trying to keep his tone as even as possible.

“Technically your right. I did intend to contact them, but by a stroke of luck they came on their own accord and offered to participate once I told them how important their input could prove to be to the project. I’m sorry if they're willing participation upsets you.” Zimmerman muttered dismissively attempting to sidestep him.

“You had no right to involve them without my consent.” Julian pressed poking Zimmerman in the shoulder and stepping with him.

“You’re acting as if I actually brought them here. I didn't. I merely offered them a friendly invitation which they gladly accepted. Get off my back.” Zimmerman muttered.

“You implied their participation was urgent and that you couldn’t complete the algorithm without them.” Julian accused him.

“So I embellished a bit. And it is urgent. At least to me. Like it or not, however estranged you may be from them now, they are an important part of your background and I need to interview them with or without your approval. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a delivery to make.” Zimmerman muttered unapologetically as he simply turned and walked away from Julian who could do nothing else but stare daggers into his back.

Unable to confront him further, Julian stalked back to his parent’s temporary quarters. He’d promised to eat dinner with them but now he knew he wouldn’t be able to just despondently muddle through the meal like he might have planned to do in the past. Everything was different these days. Everything was so raw.

When he arrived, his parents were already seated and at meal. Greeting him when he appeared.

“Sit down. We understand that you will be on a leave of absence from your work, Jules. I hope that won’t delay your research. You are still keeping up with it. Aren’t you?” Amsha asked.

 

“My leave of absence will mean I won’t have access to much for now, but since the work I’ve been doing is so important here, the Captain has assured me I won’t be completely idle if I don’t want to be.” Julian muttered having no interest in partaking of their meal.

“I’ll never understand why you couldn’t have just stayed on earth and done your work. Maybe if you had listened to my advice five years ago instead of insisting upon leaving and taking your position here, you wouldn’t have...Well, I just hope that this frontier medicine dream of yours has been worth the risk to your life.” His father remarked.

“What happened to me is a risk that every Starfleet officer takes no matter where they’re stationed. The work I’m doing out here is beyond important and could save countless lives. I don’t regret any of it. Not five years ago, and certainly not now.” Julian muttered.

Quickly the conversation shifted away from Julian and back to his father’s work. Everything always predictably shifted back to his father’s ambitions, lofty and short sighted as they often were.

“Needless to say, I have some very good prospects on the horizon.” His father was saying as he proudly hinted to Julian how his landscaping work had attracted the attention of various unnamed people in lofty places.

Julian scoffed at this statement, not presently having it in him to avoid confronting his father. “Yes. You always have very good prospects and they always were just over that horizon.”

Julian’s acidic nearly belittling tone was not lost on his father, who eyed his son aware that he was spoiling now for a fight.

As usual, Amsha attempted to intervene, attempting to change the subject to safer territory. “Jules, maybe you should tell us something about the interviews we’ve agreed to do tomorrow. What kind of questions are they going to ask us?”

“Lord, I wish you would simply tell Zimmerman that you’ve changed your minds. Please, for all our sakes. He’s planning to ask you all sorts of questions designed to help complete the personality algorithms he needs. If you insist upon going through with this, I strongly encourage you to keep your statements brief and to the point. His questions could prove dangerous and Zimmerman is a persistent conniving man. If you give him any lead at all he will hunt it out to its logical conclusion. You know what that could mean.” Julian said in a conspiratorial tone that was more pointed than usual.

Feeling as if his son was once again undermining their intelligence, his father’s face screwed up in protest. “I’m sure we can handle it.”

“I’m serious. Zimmerman won’t hold back. I implore you to not take this situation lightly. He’s going to be asking detailed questions about my childhood, and if you’re not careful--”

Julian was suddenly cut off by the frustrated and challenging tone of his father.

“You don’t trust us? Is that it? You may not have said it, but that’s what you meant. You really think that we’re going to slip up, say the wrong thing, get us all into trouble?” His father accused.

“Yes. Yes, I do. Maybe not intentionally, maybe not even in a way you’ll realize until it happens...This isn’t like other times. There’s so much at stake if I’m exposed. This time our secrets could destroy my entire career. Zimmerman is too perceptive a man to not become suspicious if there’s even the slightest detail out of place.” Julian pressed manically.

“You’ve got alot at stake?” His father fumed. “Well, what about us? We could go to prison, Jules. Have you ever thought about that?”

“Of course I’ve thought about that!” Julian yelled, finally losing his temper. “That’s why I don’t want you to do it. That’s why I want you to take this seriously!”

“Always with that old tune. He always assumes we never take these things as seriously as he does. We’re not as bright as he is.” Richard fumed looking from his wife to his son. “We don’t have your gifted intellect so we can’t see the perfectly obvious.”

Fed up with his father’s almost childish tirade, Julian thew his napkin down and stood up pointing viciously at his father. “This is exactly why I haven’t been home in three years. This whole business is why I chose to come out here on the edge of the galaxy where I hoped I wouldn’t have to worry about the both of you or any of this anymore.”

Julian quickly stormed from the room not able to stand being in his parents’ presence any longer as he stepped outside of their abode nearly blind with frustration and helplessness as shear panic overwhelmed him causing Julian to slam himself against the bulkhead and slide himself to the floor trying to get himself under control.

“I can’t do this. What do I do?” He asked himself.

Julian felt lost.

His anxiety about his situation going unabated no matter what he tried to do to calm himself down while he tried to reason his predicament out. If it had only been his parents visiting the station, or only been the arrival of Zimmerman, or only been his leave of absence to contend with, Julian would have felt in control and capable enough to handle his situation. But to have all three problems coverage on him at once. Julian not only felt lost, but he also felt trapped. Obviously, his parents where there because Starfleet had summoned his next of kin when it had looked like Julian wasn’t going to pull through. Despite his complicated relationship with his parents, he had never taken them out of his medical directive plan. For one, it would have been suspicious if he had and for another, he simply hadn’t believed it would ever be a problem.

And now his worst nightmare was being played out in horrifying detail.

Now back in his quarters Julian thought back on the fight he’d had with his parents. No matter how he looked at it he was convinced that Zimmerman was a direct threat to them. Between his parents, Julian had a great deal of faith in his mother’s capabilities and respect for her in general. He often wondered sometimes what she might have been capable of if she had never married Richard Bashir or if she had ever left him through the course of their marriage.

Amsha was a very bright, warm, compassionate, and intuitive woman. But her material intelligence and sensitivity were often handicapped by her proud, self-important, and thin-skinned husband. It had always bothered Julian to watch her constantly dissembling herself for the sake of his father. Through all his ill-conceived schemes, philandering blunders and social snafus, Amsha had stood with her husband even when the consequences of doing so had been grave. Sometimes Julian had felt angry with her. Wondering how she had really felt about him being Augmented. Wondering why she hadn’t been strong enough to protect Julian. He had always wanted to think that Amsha had ultimately disapproved of the resequencing process that had been inflicted on him as a child.

As for his father, it was true that Julian felt superior to Richard Bashir. He literally was superior in every measurable way that one could be. But what Richard Bashir failed to understand or accept was that Julian was superior because of his father’s actions and not despite them. Like all things when it came to his father, Richard probably never had the capacity to imagine what the sequencing procedure would or could do to his son. He had only ever thought about the fact that Julian needed to be improved upon and when those improvements had taken and taken well Richard had the nerve to feel resentment about it all. As if Julian derived sadistic pleasure at being so able to outthink and out maneuver his father. Of his two parents, Julian understood that Richard Bashir was the weaker of the two. He also understood there was little he could do to protect himself or his parents if one or both slipped.

The feeling of powerlessness consumed Julian and the worst part of it all was that he had no one to confide in about any of it. Not his friends, not his family, not his associates. The information was just too burdensome, dangerous, and complicated.

As Julian paced his living room trying desperately to find an answer or at least relief, his mind drifted back to Gaven. Gaven knew exactly what it was like to have to keep secrets from everyone around him. Genetic Augmentation was common among his people as well. Then, for extra good measure, he also wasn’t really a member of Starfleet and so he wasn’t under any obligation to report Julian about his genetic status if he did find out. All that aside, Julian found he missed the man’s steady company and the unique trust they shared between them. It also bothered him that Gaven wasn’t reaching out or being more transparent with the conditions of his leave. Certainly, if he was unwell, Gaven would have told him? For a while worry for the other doctor outweighed Julian’s concern for himself and once again an overpowering temptation to try and visit, came over Julian.

“I just want...To check in on him. Surely there wouldn’t be any harm in that.” Julian spoke out loud as if he were trying to convince himself of something.

“Maybe, maybe I could just pop round for a tick.” Now Julian was absolutely trying to convince himself of the merit in seeking Gaven out at his quarters.

Slowly but surely, he won his own argument.

Chapter 20: In Good Faith

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty: In Good Faith

 

Jyrrus Cheval had been visiting the public part of the horticulture wing of the station examining various vegetable crossbreeds when something on his internal wavelength caused him to stop. He could sense even across the station that Gaven was in advanced distress. Not wasting time, Cheval dismissed himself from the space and headed directly to Gaven’s quarters. Cheval had respected his wishes for days now to be left alone, but his Vulcan reasoning told him that if he approached the doctor now, he wouldn’t be turned away.

 

Not surprisingly when Cheval rang his quarters and announced himself the door opened.

 

Minutes later, Cheval was in Gaven’s bedroom assessing the situation. Displeasure clear upon his face as he spoke his mind to his friend.

 

“You should not have allowed it to progress this far without calling me.” Cheval said disapprovingly as he pressed his palm to Gaven’s forehead trying to sooth him as he watched the man writhe. “It may be risky now for you to enter stasis.”

 

“Well,” Gaven gritted his teeth as he labored against the rippling muscle spasms seizing spontaneously across his body by clasping at Cheval’s free arm tightly. “Then maybe…-huff- I won’t bother. It seems…[-huff- I learn best...The hard way.”

 

“That is not humorous.” Cheval scolded.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. -huff, huff- Under the circumstances it somehow seems pretty humorous to me.” Gaven muttered sardonically.

 

Despite the labor like pain of his current experience, he did find something strangely comical about it all. Though he suspected his humor to be a kind of chemically induced delirium designed to counteract some of the pain. An interesting feature of his species he’d never realized they possessed given that he had never been present during the final birthing stages of any of his kind. One could read about such things and learn about them factually but experiencing it firsthand was a different thing entirely.

 

Cheval pressed his lips. Unsure of whether the mild delirium was part of the process or an anomaly to be worried about. “Are you certain that you do not wish me to declare a medical emergency and summon Doctor Fisk?”

 

“No. It’s alright. This is all natural. No different than if I had gone into actual labor. I...I think it’s ebbing enough now to safely enter stasis.” As Gaven spoke his spasms seemed to lessen somewhat allowing him to loosen his grip on Cheval’s arm.

 

Cheval encouraged him to relax and catch his breath for a few moments before he tried to speak again.

 

“Cheval, I would like you to promise me something. If anything goes wrong on the station while I’m in stasis, I know you’d pull me out of it. But if something goes wrong with me while I’m in stasis...Promise me you won’t let them try to revive me.” Gaven asked.

 

Surprised by this remark, Cheval sat down on the edge of the bed and took up Gaven’s hand again looking down at their joined palms. “I will not promise you something I cannot agree with. To my knowledge there should be no reason any harm would befall you while in stasis and if you believe that something might then it is logical that you should remain aware.”

 

“Cheval. Please. Just say you’ll adhere to my wishes.” Gaven shook his head knowing he wouldn’t really be angry with the Vulcan if he tried to save his life in a instance like this, but he wanted to hear him agree nevertheless.

 

“Perhaps this is something that should go into a medical directive.” Cheval remarked. “Why are you asking this of me?”

 

Gaven sighed.

 

“Just a feeling. An indulgence, perhaps. So many people want me around for selfish reasons. Even on Oum, even Lopel...He loved me and did what he thought was in my best interest...But he never asked me what I wanted nor do I really believe he would have been able to put his own wants aside for mine. Since leaving Oum I have been at the mercy of agendas much bigger than my own. I’ve not been afforded the right to be my own person, free of the desperate needs of others.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Doctor, ethically you are entitled to your medical wishes to be observed. The doctors here on the station would agree with that assessment and since I am not in a position to be your power of attorney, I cannot in good faith make medical decisions on your behalf. However, so long as it is within my power, I promise you I will ensure people know your position and I will advocate for your right to choose.” Cheval said at length.

 

“Good enough. A bit on the long side, but good enough.” Gaven patted their joined hands.

 

“Are you ready now?” Cheval asked him.

 

Gaven nodded. If he was going to enter stasis it had to be now and they both knew it.

 

Gaven let go of Cheval and relaxed himself fully into the bed shutting his eyes. He could feel Cheval touch his forehead in order to monitor his retreat into himself. Using a complex series of breathing techniques Gaven began the descent.

 

Like all the times Gaven retreated into his psyche, he had little awareness that what he was experiencing wasn’t real. Like other times his mind had returned him to Oum. Specifically, to the Ner house. For the moment, Gaven was no longer the seasoned and haunted adult exile of Oum, instead he was a pale hawkish shy boy of fourteen his wide green eyes taking in the sights and sounds of the house.

 

Gaven could feel the unusual heaviness that permeated the house. He had been given instructions to remain out of doors as much as possible, but the wailing of Verda’s bondservant Hadna had lured him in. Now Gaven lurked quietly at the end of the long hall in his senior master’s household. Mourning cloth had been placed over every window and light source seemingly shrouding the entire house in muted semi darkness. From his vantage point he could just make out the sight of the young Lopel Ner situated in a glossy armchair near the door as they conferenced over the remains of Gulevere’s mate. Though he couldn’t see Hadna, Gaven could hear her wails in the same room and he imagine that Hadna had thrown herself half over her mistress’s body.

 

Verda’s death would be the death promise of Hadna’s life as well.  In some ways the women were more bound together than Verda and Gulevere were. As such it was the bondservant’s right to freely mourn. Gulevere and his sired offspring Lopel would be permitted their chance later. After, Hadna completed her own death rites and both women were put to rest. For Gaven, no special consideration was to be observed. He was free to mourn as he wished provided it did not disturb the rest of the household and that it did not interfere with his other responsibilities to the house.

 

Despite knowing all of this, Gaven had yet to fully understand what was about to happen. He didn’t realize that in just a few short days Hadna would be gone as well and that he would be left alone with only his Bondmasters Gulevere Ner and Lopel Ner.

 

“Please, get out!” Hadna shrieked.

 

Gaven hadn’t been close enough to see what had prompted the outburst. If he had he would have witnessed Gulevere Ner approach Hadna and attempt to comfort her as she openly wept into her mistress’s bed shroud. Never in all his life had he ever heard Hadna raise her voice to anyone and the power of her command practically shook the house and Gaven to his core.

 

After that, both Gulevere and Lopel had silently left the room. Gulevere hurrying away across the other side of the house to lock himself away in his observatory while Lopel lingered outside of the room as if struggling to know where to go or what to do with himself. It was a rare issue for the young and often brazen Lopel. In the dull light of the space his tan skin and sun-bleached hair made him look almost like a lurking phantom in the dimness of the hall. Using his strong arms to propel himself in the house, Lopel made like he might walk away from Gaven who was still silently perched at the bottom of the villa’s stairwell. Yet at the last minute he turned around and started making his way towards Gaven. Gaven retreated further into the stairs but Lopel already knew he was there and Gave him a glare that dared Gaven to move away instead of waiting for him.

 

“I suggest, Gaven Ore-Oum, that you get your wits about you and get in there. This may be your one and only chance to say goodbye. Gulevere will be in private mourning until Hadna’s work is done. Go. Go, damn you. NOW.”

 

Gaven, who was far timider than Lopel, only stared at the young man until Lopel grabbed him by the arm and dragged him from the stairs. “Do as you’re told, Gaven Ore-Oum.”

 

Gaven nearly fell into the hallway.

 

His head shooting back at Lopel Ner. A boy who was nearly the same age as him, separated only by two years. Lopel Ner simply stared at him, his deep brown eyes filled with awareness and dismay. Gaven realized Lopel was angry, even disgusted by something. But he didn’t understand what. Looking from Lopel to Verda’s door Gaven got up from the floor of the hall and made his way down the hall. The door had been left slightly ajar and Gaven could peer into the room to a limited degree. He noticed the wailing had died down and that Hadna was presently moving about the room in a dazed fashion opening drawers and carefully arranging their contents.

 

“Hadna, can I help you?” It was all Gaven could think to ask and as the young woman turned to look at him a strange thought came over him.

 

Was it possible that Hadna was his mother ?

 

It was the first instance where an inkling struck him that he wasn’t on Oum nor actually in the time and place he thought he was. Mother was not an Oum word. Yet if felt like the most appropriate description. Gaven thought back to when he’d first come to the Ner house. He had been six or seven at the time and he remembered how Hadna had been just out of her girlhood when they’d met for the first time. Certainly, it was possible that she was within the birthing range of him. As Gaven looked upon her know he wondered at her dark curls and pale complexion. Her eyes and prominent feature were decidedly different in shape than his own, but the color and complexion was the same. It was possible that Verda had bred her with the Ner DNA to produce Gaven. Certainly, someone had been bred with the Ner line to produce him and there were quite a number of possibilities for how that might have come about. None of this was proper Oum thinking. In any case even if Hadna had not been his mother, she had certainly acted like one throughout their shared time in the Ner household.

 

Mother, father, son, daughter. The Oum did not observe such familial attachments.

 

Yet...The room spun as Gaven grasped at his abdomen, a protesting spasm reminding him vaguely of his womb’s abject emptiness. And suddenly his reality was propelled forward in time and the spasm suddenly disappeared. He was now an adult standing in the country house Lopel Ner had ordered built upon Gulevere’s death. It was the same remote place, he had embraced Lopel in front of in another vision.

 

“Give me your honest opinion. What do you think, Gaven Ore-Oum?” Lopel had asked him seriously as he presented the space to him.

 

“It’s beautiful, Lopel. I can see you being very happy here.” Gaven had said approvingly, admiring the open concept, the natural abundance of light, and the remote nature of the building near the mountains which they both had always enjoyed.

 

“Not just me, my beloved. Us. This place is ours. Not just mine. Gulevere is dead. There is no more reason to keep up these absurd airs between us. I love you more than life itself. In this place if nowhere else on this damned planet, we can belong to each other because we want to, not because you are bound to me.” Lopel Ner said firmly.

 

Gaven felt himself resist this notion. He had always suspected that Lopel Ner harbored strange social beliefs that went against the grain of their society. What he was proposing now seemed impossible.

 

“I love you too. But...We are not equals, Lopel. I am your bondservant.” Gaven remarked, as if to throw a wall up between them.

 

At this, a glint of disgust mingled with pride came into Lopel Ner’s usually warm eyes as he scoffed and climbed up Gaven’s body.

 

Out of long practiced habit Gaven gripped at Lopel’s lower half supportively so that he could keep his hands free. The intimate nearness of Lopel made Gaven’s head swim and he audibly let out his breath. A serious glint remained in Lopel’s eyes as he cupped Gaven’s face.

 

“Do you really believe that makes you less than me? You are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. You are capable of so many things and yet our world would have you believe you have no right to any of them. If anything, Gaven Ore-Oum, it is YOU who are superior to ME in all the ways that matter most. I know you don’t believe it now and I am happy to spend the rest of my days trying to convince you.” As Lopel leaned forward to take possession of his mouth the swimming sensation intensified and Gaven felt as if he was falling backwards.

 

The next thing he knew, he was lying in bed, his fourteen-year-old self once more. Hadna was dead. Per Oum tradition, she had forfeited her life after finalizing the death rights of her mistress and both had been taken away to be bound as one and returned to the dust. Gaven had been permitted to assist Hadna with her final duties and again had been shocked to watch her order Gulevere and even Lopel about as if she was mistress of the household.

 

Both men had obeyed her every command without comment and, because she had bid it so, Gaven was permitted to speak on her behalf as an extension of her will. In his entire life he had never witnessed such a reversal of roles and it had both exhilarated and disturbed him. In her final moments Gaven had been by her side, assisting her as she took the poison designed to stop her heart. In her final moments, they had linked and he had stayed with her until he had felt her life slip away. More than anything, this had helped him to understand what death was for a bondservant. He had sensed how she had urged the poison on by shear will alone to take her faster. Like all proud Oum like her, she had been happy to serve and to die in that service. Gaven had envied her as she died and now as he laid in his bed something in him felt ashamed and heart sick.

 

For all Verda's harshness and even cruelty, Hadna had been truly devoted to her mistress. Despite his many years in the Ner household Gaven found suddenly that he could not claim to share the same esteem for Gulevere. Though Gulevere was master of the Ner house, Gaven was Servant bonded to only Lopel. It was assumed Lopel shared some genetics with Gulevere, but it was possible that they did not. By the end Gaven had developed a dislike of Gulevere predominantly influenced by Gulevere’s combative relationship to Lopel. Thus, he was glad upon the master’s death sometime later that his bond-service would be retained by Lopel and him alone. Grief encircled Gaven as he huddled in the dark thinking that now he was truly alone. Hadna, his one equal in the Ner household was gone.

 

Gaven rolled over onto his stomach as a painful empty ache once more gripped his body.

 

Why did he hurt so much? Gaven didn’t understand. He simply wanted to get away from it. Yet as he whimpered and writhed into his mattress, he felt a familiar strong rough hand stroke the nap of his neck and massage a circle into the base of his neck.

 

“Lopel.” Gaven breathed trying to hush himself. He was thankful for the darkness. “Was there something...Why are you here?”

 

“I heard you crying and was worried for you. I’m sorry but I wanted to see that you were alright.” The older boy remarked. “I didn’t want you to feel as if you were alone.”

 

“I thought it was my job to look after you.” Gaven remarked bluntly curling onto his side and wiping at his damp face.

 

“How about we agree to look after each other from now on?” Lopel proposed. “Please. Don’t hide your tears from me.”

 

Gaven felt his skin flush at his request. “Lopel.”

 

“What? What do you need from me? You can ask anything of me without fear.” Lepel promised him firmly.

 

“It hurts. Please stay with me.” Gaven heard himself plead in a small uncertain voice.

 

Time seemed to move forward then, only; it was as if one night bled over into another without any day between them. All the time Lopel was there with him again and again. Sometimes telling him stories, other times caught in repose and curled beside him. Weeks blended into months in what felt like a series of heartbeats and in that span of time Gaven’s respect and esteem grew for the young Lopel Ner until it blossomed into a heady warmth that spread through him filling his terrible ache and banishing his loneliness.

 

One night, Lopel came sheepishly to him injured, no doubt from a stupid act of heroic adolescence. Gaven quivered as he dressed the wounds. Using his linking abilities to search out the subtle indications of discomfort and infection. Lopel had been prone since birth to skin infections and Gaven found himself fearing greatly for his wellbeing during mishaps like this one where his sensitive skin might be exposed to trauma and infection, Gaven didn’t speak, He simply tended to Lopel trailing his hands along his body and inadvertently teasing out any tension he found along the way.

 

“Does it hurt?” Gaven asked needing to break the silence between them. It was an empty question since Gaven could sense Lopel’s biological responses.

 

Lopel didn’t answer him right away but looked speculatively at him through the darkness in mild wonderment. “Your angry with me.”

 

Lopel leaned back on his hands as he sat in the bed just off to Gaven’s side. His arm capturing Gaven’s upper legs between them.

 

“Your injuries are minor, but the bandages will have to be checked and the broken skin cleaned regularly until the skin heals over.” Gaven felt his skin flush under Lopel’s gaze. Even in the dark the young man saw everything in him.

 

“Gaven Ore-” Lopel reached up to rub at the other young man’s cheek and as he did so he felt a hot tear graze his thumb. Gaven was angry with him, indeed, but there were other feelings there too in him. Conviction. Compassion. Love.

 

“Don’t, Lopel.” The young Gaven took Lopel’s wrist and guided it down to their laps. “Your life is my life. When you’re careless with yourself. You’re also being careless with me.”

 

The truth of this remark stung and shamed Lopel just then. How wise Gaven was to know the truth of his position. It occurred to Lopel that Gaven was afraid to die. Or rather, he resented the idea of dying over Lopel’s poor judgements. The evidence of such self-preservation made Lopel somehow hopeful.

 

“I see that you would not be happy to die for me, Gaven Ore-Oum.”  Lopel observed.

 

“No. I wouldn’t.” Gaven looked away from him as he spoke.

 

Lopel caught the edge of his jaw and guided his face back into a straight on position.

 

“Good.” Lopel muttered with genuine satisfaction and blossoming pride. “Maybe someday you might live for me instead.”

 

At this strange and unsettling remark, Lopel leaned forward and pulled Gaven into a chaste kiss. For his part, Gaven didn’t resist him and instinctively pulled Lopel into his lap, supporting him at the hips where his legs fused against his thighs. Gaven, still linked, could feel the rush of adrenaline and hormones being released within Lopel and began to shiver in response to the implications of it. It was then that Lopel Ner linked with him. Nearly a decade together, and in all that time Gaven had only ever linked with Lopel, as he mapped the other boy’s developing biology, his many ills, and his many biological responses. It was the expectation of every bondservant, the core of how they monitored the wellbeing of their bondmasters. In all that time, neither Gulevere nor Lopel Ner had ever mutually shared in the linking process with Gaven.

 

The young Gaven murmured, pulling out of their kiss which had suddenly taken on an overwhelmingly intimate tone. Instead of pulling away further from each other though Gaven and Lopel embraced each other tightly instead. Losing themselves in their mutual linkage.

 

“I promise you; I will never allow you to feel alone again. You are not just a part of me, an extension of body and will, Gaven Ore-Oum.” Lopel rocked them gently, sensing complexities within Gaven he hardly had imagined were possible, Lopel Ner had sought from that moment on to hold Gaven to a higher standard than anyone else.

 

In the coming years he would do everything in his power to elevate Gaven in their society and equip him with the knowledge, understandings, and intellectual power that would make it possible for Gaven Ore-Oum to survive him if necessary and hopefully allow him one day to move beyond all their limitations.

 

For what felt like a long time Gaven swam in the delicious peace of their bond. To Gaven if felt completely present and suspended.

 

Outside of Gaven, Cheval gently removed his hand. Satisfied at the signs of stability he saw and sensed in the reposed man. It was a strange thing, this Oum ability, to step out of time and space within themselves. Cheval had never observed an ability as complete as Gaven’s. Cheval thought on the purging process Gaven was capable of. It was possible, Cheval realized that Gaven was perfectly capable of emotionally and psychologically healing himself. It was generally a standard practice of mental and emotional wellbeing from what Cheval understood of the Oum. Yet, since leaving his planet, Gaven had extended his suffering. Unwilling to let himself heal and become whole again.

 

The concept was so illogical that Cheval struggled to understand it. Gaven was indeed a truly bizarre example of his species. Perhaps it was for this reason that the Oum had chosen to banish him from the greater populous, or rather, Gaven had chosen to banish himself.

 

Chapter 21: The Good Doctors, I Presume

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-One: The Good Doctors, I presume

 

Julian spent the whole trip to Gaven’s quarters trying to think up how he might convince Gaven to see him on the off chance that he reiterated that he didn’t want to be disturbed. Perhaps humor was the way to go or self-depreciation. All he knew was that Julian was tired of being kept in the dark. Weren’t he and Gaven friends, after all? Wasn't it Julian’s duty to look out for Gaven and his best interests as his friend?

 

To his surprise, when Julian rang and announced himself the door opened, and Julian found himself being invited in by someone else.

 

“Hello. Excuse me, but Gaven wouldn’t happen to be here would he?” For a moment Julian struggled to place the other man, but eventually, his recall allowed him to remember that the Vulcan had been there when they’d transported Gaven’s tomb to the station.

 

“Doctor Ore is here, but not available for conversation right now. His condition has progressed enough where it was determined he would be better off placing himself in stasis.”

 

“Stasis.” Julian’s mouth curled as he spoke the word, both alarmed and confused by it. “Is he alright? Why is he in stasis?”

 

Cheval observed the young doctor. Though he was trying to cover it, it was easy to tell that Julian was deeply stressed and yet his apparent concern for Gaven, despite whatever ills he was experiencing for himself, caused Cheval to instantly appreciate him.

 

“If you would like to sit down, Doctor. I am sure Doctor Ore would not mind me elaborating on his condition. I have heard him speak of you before and I know he considers you his friend.” Cheval offered him a seat and then joined him at the table.

 

“My name is Jyrrus Cheval. I knew Doctor Ore before he came to the station. I would like to stress that as far as I, Doctor Fisk, and Doctor Ore can tell...His current condition is a natural one, albeit presently painful to endure. Due to the side effects of his position, Doctor Ore thought it wise to sequester himself at home where he could endure the experience privately and not unduly compromise his identity on the station.” Cheval began.

 

“What? What’s wrong with him?” Julian pressed.

 

“Doctor Ore told me you were able to treat him with poly radiation. As a result, his health has vastly improved. So much so that his reproductive abilities have engaged once more. As you know, Doctor Ore’s uniquely Augmented physiology makes it possible for him to carry offspring. In Oum with his kind of reproductive configuration the monoestrous cycle, specifically, the estrus stage, can be intense and incapacitating if not addressed. Doctor Ore did not foresee the swift return of his reproductive abilities and was not prepared when his cycle began again. By the time he realized what was happening it was too late to suppress the estrus stage and so it became necessary to simply endure it to its logical conclusion.” Cheval explained.

 

Julian digested this information slowly. Though he understood the words, he found himself struggling to wrap his mind around what Cheval was telling him. “Wait. Wait now. Are you telling me that Gaven went into heat?”

 

“Yes.” Cheval pressed his lips at the use of such a crass term.

 

Julian’s eyes widened at the confirmation of this fact. While Gaven had indicated he had carrying abilities, he’d never elaborated on the subject or talked explicitly about the intricacies of Oum reproduction.

 

“Is it standard for Oum to place themselves in stasis like this?” Julian asked, trying to fathom why such an extreme measure was necessary.

 

“The Oum can place themselves in stasis during periods of extreme physical and psychological distress. Without his Bondmate to help him with the biological process through their joining, Doctor Ore found himself in an extraordinary position of debilitating discomfort. In this case, entering stasis was the only way to alleviate his distress.” Cheval explained.

 

“Why didn’t he say anything?” Julian mused out loud thinking back to their final days in the infirmary together when he’d noticed Gaven seeming physically uncomfortable.

 

“Perhaps he did not want to burden you with the information.” Cheval offered.

 

“Yes, perhaps.” Julian agreed, though now he wondered at the young Vulcan, noting to himself how Jyrrus Cheval seemed to be intimately aware of the situation and of Gaven’s real identity. “What exactly is your connection to Gaven, if I may ask?”

 

Cheval’s expression turned shy. “I was present on the Vulcan freighter that found him. We have since become friends.”

 

Julian sensed a more profound story there. As he watched the young Vulcan, he noticed a softness to him. There was also a kind of sad self-depreciation that he’d never seen in a Vulcan before. He also got a distinct impression that he was disturbing something. There was a subtle air of authority around Cheval when he spoke of Gaven, an intimate protectiveness that contrasted against his seemingly gentle demeanor.

 

“I am surprised Doctor Ore hasn’t been more transparent with you. I know he likes you a great deal and trusts you.” Cheval mentioned.

 

Julian hung off the edge of the high dining chair and considered his words. “Gaven is a very private man. He doesn’t like burdening people with his problems. If he chose not to tell me, it was probably because he felt I have problems enough of my own right now.”

 

“Obviously, you came here to see him. Now that Doctor Ore is in stasis it is unclear when he will emerge without intervention. But I know he would be pleased to know you were here.” Cheval remarked.

 

Julian felt the hairs on his neck raise at the sudden fear that Cheval planned to dismiss him.

 

“I planned to keep vigil over him; but if you would like to stay with him for a while instead, I believe Doctor Ore would approve. I would like to take an opportunity to speak with Doctor Fisk and update him personally. But I do not want the doctor to be here alone.” Cheval offered.

 

“Oh..Of course. Of course. I can stay with him.” Julian’s eyes widened at the impromptu opportunity and nodded.

 

“Very well. Then I will leave you with him and be back in an hour.” Cheval stood and began to walk to the door. When he was a little more, then half of the way he stopped, and half turned towards Julian. “Doctor Gaven Ore is...A good man. I am pleased he has found friends and allies here. He needs people in his new world. He needs to know that he is not alone.”

 

At this statement, Cheval nodded to Julian and stiffly left the apartment.

 

Julian only nodded showing he’d heard him.

 

Once Cheval was gone Julian let out the breath he’d been holding and ran his fingers through his hair. His anxiety was peaking again and the comfort he was hoping for seemed to slip elusively away from him. Pressing his palms to his forehead to get his racing thoughts under control, Julian lowered his hands and looked towards the bedroom. Gaven was in there. Julian wondered briefly where it was that Gaven went in his mind when he retreated like this.

 

Frowning he neared the door and peaked in.

 

The room was dimly lit, but not dark. Gaven was in bed atop the blankets his shirt off no doubt to decrease any irritation to his abdominal slits. His skin had taken on a light blue hue, and his lips were almost purple. Julian noticed how the rims of his closed eyes, as well as his abdominal slits, looked angry. Yet for all his unusual coloring Gaven looked tranquil enough. His dark hair was getting a bit long causing curls about his eyes.

 

Julian came more into the room and settled into the chair beside Gaven’s bed.

 

“Well, you’ve picked a fine time to be unconscious.” Julian said quietly as he knit his fingers together. “I had really hoped I would be able to talk to you about something. Gaven...I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid. For myself, for my family. Everything is going wrong all of a sudden, and I can’t fix any of it. I...I’m not ashamed of who I am. All the good I've done has been possible because of what I am. But I'm afraid others won't see it that way. I've tried my best all these years to keep certain things to myself. I don't have any idea what it would be like to live any other way. Maybe It's for the best that you’re not awake to hear this right now. I'm sorry to bother you with my troubles when you're clearly having plenty of your own. I just…sometimes I think you and I are more alike than we are different.”

 

Julian quieted for a minute as he watched Gaven, checking for subtle signs he was actually alright. He didn’t like that Gaven wasn’t being monitored medically in the infirmary while in stasis. If Julian had been actively doctoring he would have never allowed it. Gaven’s precarious health was too unpredictable for Julian’s taste, and it would be just like the man to get himself in trouble because he was stubborn and because other people didn’t know better. Sometimes it was so easy to forget that Gaven wasn’t human and it was hard to appreciate how uniquely alien he was.

 

“You should have told me about all of this, you know.” Julian said as he innocently brushed some of Gaven’s curls away from his irritated eyes. “I like to think we make a pretty good team when we put our minds to it. Maybe if I’d known, I could have found a way to help you. Then again, I suppose these days I can barely help myself.”

 

Julian settled back into the chair clasping his hands in his lap. Just sitting with Gaven felt reassuring somehow. As if, as long as Julian was sitting there with him nothing terrible could happen to either of them. Julian found himself wondering if Gaven had talked to him like this during his coma. His mind’s subconscious recall suggested he had, though now Julian couldn’t recall any of the conversations.

 

“You've probably heard my parents are here on the station. Humans, we're generally raised by our maternal and paternal biological contributors. I was at least. I love my parents Gaven, but I find it difficult to be around them. It's been a long time since I saw them last and, had I not been injured, who knows how long it would have gone on being like that. I know they want to meet you. That much I would very much like. So please don't stay away for too long this time.” Julian said gently.

 

“You know, when I first met you, I found you intimidating. I'm sure I acted like a complete fool on more than one occasion in my efforts to try and impress you. I don't know why I felt the need to do that, but somehow, I think It's made me a better person for trying. For most of my life, everything has come so easy. Good old Julian Bashir, always the one with the quickest smartest answer to any question. Then you came around, and I find myself asking more questions than I can find answers to. The next thing I know, suddenly I'm not the smartest most capable person in the room anymore, rather, I'm just one of them. Just one more person among many extraordinary people. Deep Space Nine attracts a great deal of talent. Everyone here is a specialist in their own ways. I admit I’ve not always been good at sharing the limelight. But in the end, the people I’ve met here are the closest thing to a real family I’ve ever had. Someday, I hope you realize that no matter what happens, you’re a part of us too. You're a part of our family.” Julian mused.

 

While Julian spoke at his bedside, Gaven was still lost within his inner world shifting at seeming random between different points in the past.

 

“You should have told me about all this, you know.” Gaven had been sitting outside in his favorite spot in the brilliantly green grass reading over Lopel’s speaking engagements for the month when the echo of an unfamiliar voice broke through, intruding briefly on his sense of reality.

 

Gaven’s head suddenly swum and purple spots appeared before his eyes causing him to drop his datapad and press his fingers firmly to his eyelids.

 

Julian.

 

The name came into his mind, but for the moment held no significance for him.

 

“What?” Gaven called out in confusion as the disorientation began to rapidly clear.

 

“I said, you should have told me it was so late already. We’ve certainly missed it again.” Lopel repeated himself as he came out through the front door to hurriedly meet him in the grass.

 

Gaven pulled his hands away from his face and blinked a few times, clearing his vision.

 

“You needed to rest. Have you even bothered to look at your upcoming schedule?” Gaven scolded.

 

Lopel shrugged with indifference. “You could always go in my place. You are a far better orator then I am.”

 

Gaven sighed. “I’ve already spoken on your behalf half a dozen times this last month. If you don’t start doing it yourself with more frequency than the officials may lose their patience and bar you from speaking on the council floor altogether. You are not mute. You do not need me to be your mouthpiece, and you know doing so draws unfavorable attention to us.”

 

Lopel approached him, draping his arms across Gaven’s shoulders. “Everyone who hears you speak is impressed by you, my love. If you draw any kind of negative attention to us for doing so, it is a matter of private jealousy on the parts of others for being so magnificent. Not to mention, right in your thoughts.”

 

The truth was, Lopel Ner had very little interest in the management of government. He was a man in love with the wilds of their world and the solitary and untamed aspects of the forests, waterways, and mountains around them. In all cases of actual policy, Lopel had looked to Gaven to research and draw logical conclusions about any given subject Lopel was asked to offer an opinion on. Many times, they were true collaborators, while other times Lopel used Gaven’s independent thoughts and positions instead of his own. After several years together, this was a natural occurrence, so natural that Gaven rarely complained about it or differentiated between their individual contributions of thought. Gaven, like most of the best Bondservants, could easily anticipate his Bondmaster’s positions and thought processes on a given subject, recording them often without consultation to be used as Lopel saw fit. There were however times when the men staunchly disagreed and had to talk out their opinions together before consensus could be reached. It was this aspect of their dynamic that went against standard Oum behavior between servant and master. It was not usual for a bondservant to speak out of turn at all nor try to influence their masters in any way. Bonservants were supposed to be extensions of their masters, and any argument of thought between them would have been viewed as inappropriate.

 

“Jessup has written to you again about breeding me with her Bondservant Esha. The proposal of compensation is...significant. I’ve never seen an offer so high or the accommodations so detailed.” Gaven remarked.

 

“No.” Lopel’s reply was low, serious, and entirely firm. “Throw that woman’s wretched proposal into the fire bin.”

 

Gaven felt his head swim and heat gather down through his core. An arousing effect within Gaven was stoked every time Lopel rejected a breeding proposal.

 

“You are mine and mine alone, Gaven Ore-Oum. I will not share any part of you anymore.”

 

“Her offer is beyond reasonable, even for your high standards. If you keep refusing her, she may report it to the foundling guild. You may still have a license to deny her, but if they decide to harvest my genetics then neither of us can refuse, and there will be nothing for anyone but the guild to gain.”

 

“Is it really so easy for you to stud yourself out like that?” Lopel had pulled away from Gaven then and was staring at his love as if waiting for a macabre punchline.

 

“I am a bondservant, it's my duty to contribute to the stability of the greater population if my genetics prove to be ideal.” Gaven reminded him flatly and factually without any emotional inflection.

 

He sensed his love’s building disapproval and braced himself for the inevitable argument they were about to have.

 

“What is enough? The guild could sire dozens of Ore-Oum offspring out of you and then what? I will see the best parts of you scattered across the affluent among us. Bits of you bought and sold. Bound endlessly to other Oum who can pay the fees.” Lopel fumed.

 

“I wish you wouldn't do this. You put me up on a pedestal of worth that isn't real. Why must you always insist upon singling me out as an exception among our own? Why do you insist upon stripping me of my one pride? I know my place in our world. There is no shame in my positioning. No shame in being a servant instead of a master. I have always done everything you've asked of me, but this is too much. My children…” Gaven suddenly paused.

 

My children. My child.

 

The phrase seemed somehow wrong. Somehow, foreign. Yet it seemed like the exact thing he wanted to say. The word “child” and the sense of ownership it invoked was not part of the Oum language or vernacular. And yet...It felt illogically correct as he rapidly fingered it in his mind.

 

Confused and distracted, Gaven tried to refocus on their conversation.

 

“What is it exactly that you want from me?” Gaven asked wearily, trying to rapidly change gears.

 

Lopel considered him.

 

“I would like us to be a family.” As Lopel said the last word, his voice changed abruptly to the echo like sound of someone else. As if the audio of Lopel’s voice was partially overwritten as he spoke.

 

“I just want you, Gaven Ore-Oum. That means exclusivity in your breeding contract. I don't just want more bondservants, I want heirs to my legacy and yours.” Lopel said pointedly.

 

Gaven narrowed his eyes.” It's forbidden for me to do anything other than be a carrier for your offspring. You know that, and, even then, the process to qualify for carrier rights is long and complex. There would be no guarantee you would be granted breeding exclusivity unless you took me as a bonded mate.”

 

It was like throwing down a challenge between the men. Had they not been physically inseparable since that fated night in Gaven’s small room so many years ago? The night after Hadna’s death? Where they not as one already in all the ways that mattered? And yet for all their connection and togetherness, Lopel had been careful to observe a small sense of limitation on their often social improprieties. Namely, he had never entirely taken Gaven as his lover nor offered it as a potential option between them.

 

For Gaven’s part, while he was terribly smitten with Lopel, it was not in his programming to ask to be fully considered by him. Both knew that there were some things even for them that, once done, could never be undone between them.

 

Both men were silent for a long moment as Lopel considered him and Gaven averted his gaze into the grass.

 

“It would have to be your choice.” Lopel finally said at length, understanding that Gaven was waiting for some signal of permission to fully respond. “I hope I have made it clear all these years how much I love you.”

 

Mutual love had never been a problem between them. Gaven had loved Lopel long before he understood that he did. But this was something different. If he became a bonded mate, Lopel would indeed have possession of him complete. Why was a stake in Gaven's breeding rights so important to him? Surely Gaven couldn't recall Lopel ever caring about producing offspring before.

 

“Your proposition isn't exactly romantic, Lopel Ner.” Gaven muttered. “It's a mark of quality that Jessup is so interested in me for Esha. She's a fine bondservant. Our…progeny would certainly be sought after, and she is only asking for one genetic match. A female no doubt intended for her Sire’d Nugella.”

 

“Don't sidestep me, Gaven Ore-Oum.” Lopel said sternly.

 

“Then explain to me why you want this.” Gaven replied. “I know that you're up to something and while I believe you love me, I cannot fathom why you would feel so possessive over me. You and I have crossed hairs on many things in our lifetime. You never were much of a traditionalist, so tell me now what you're really aiming at, and then I'll give you my answer.”

 

Lopel's earnest face deflated for a second before blossoming into a look of jovial amusement laced with fond respect.

 

“You know me as well as I know myself, Gaven Ore-Oum. The truth is, I do see you as the exception in our world. I know we can't go against convention in all things. I know that our people are proud of their ways and most can't imagine anything else. But I can and do. When I look at you, I see the hope of progress. Our people have become complacent, Gaven Ore. We hide our true value as individuals and horde our knowledge away. We encourage limitation instead of liberation. In many ways, you are an ideal subject. Humble, respectful, sensitive...But I've seen you look up at the stars with longing Gaven Our-Oum. I've seen you lose yourself so entirely in the cultural emporium that I feel jealous of it. I know that in your heart of hearts you wish you could be more than what you've been assigned to be. I want to give you the chance to step outside of our prescribed roles.” Lopel mused.

 

Gaven frowned as he listened to this speech. “There are things that I wish were different. But the things I wish for have never been about my liberation.”

 

Gaven met Lopel's gaze finally. Painful love shone in his eyes as tears pooled but remained unshed. “Every day of your life you have suffered. It doesn't take our linking for me to know that about you. Every day I pour over your sensitive skin, trying to search out every festering mark that could in a breath take you from me. Every day as I massage away your achings I sense the strength in your body, how the muscles in your legs beg for constant kinetic release that the muscles will never know.”

 

Gaven began to quiver subtly, as he admitted his greatest pain.

 

“You are someone that we had the power to liberate. Yet our people refuse to correct your abnormalities. And to what end? Vanity? We Oum claim to honor all life, and yet we leave our people in disarray and call it honoring the natural order. We control and tailor our birth rates, we breed for specific abnormalities and genetic phenomenon, we Augment our kind to accommodate a complex social order. We have the power to change the face of Oum, and yet we do nothing. What good has it done us?” Gaven lamented.

 

“It's given me you, Gaven Ore-Oum. You have made my life worth something. You represent the best of us as well as the best of me. I promise you that if you bond with me, things will be different for us. I will defy convention at every turn. I will turn this world upside down for us. For our offspring. I know you think me idle in my profession, but I have long cultivated channels of influence that share the same pains as you.” Lopel approached his beloved and pulled at his hot face in a typical act of comforting between them.

 

Gaven relaxed back into the grass feeling the swift and familiar rush of Lopel activating their biological linkage through their body contact. It never stopped taking his breath away, and his head swam with unparalleled love and longing. In all things, Gaven did not have the conviction for denying his love, especially when Lopel's will spoke to the secret want in Gaven's own heart. How he ached, the pain of longing twisted within him unforgivingly.

 

Gaven couldn't help but whimper and press his eyes shut.

 

The next thing he knew they were making love. Gaven registered this but little else as time and space seemed to become inconsequential. Yet the throbbing pain persisted between them and gradually intensified slowly pushing out all other sensations.

 

Pulsing. Like a persistent, relentless drum beat.

 

Amongst this strange pulsing pain that began to overtake him causing his world to blur and shift into nothing but sensation, Gaven felt a soothing less familiar hand brush the hair from his eyes compassionately, and suddenly Gaven realized Lopel was dead and gone and yet he also understood that he wasn't actually alone.

 

“Gaven.” An earnest aristocratic voice called him echoing through the inky pain. “Gaven, you need to wake up. Something is wrong. Can't you feel It?”

 

The phantom voice was calm but persistent as it sliced into his awareness.

“Julian.” Gaven breathed as context slowly came back to him. “Julian, I…”

 

Still in the other space of stasis Gaven opened his eyes as if he were looking into the sun. Everything was dark. Oum had disappeared as had Lopel. Yet he sensed he was being held. His mind had manifested the visage of Julian holding him in the purple-black hue within the darkness where he could make out the doctor in his medic blues cradling him.

 

“You've contracted an infection.” Julian said calmly. “It's causing your reproductive system to reject your Augmented womb. You're internally hemorrhaging, but there's still time to save you.” The visage of Julian intimately dragged his thumb, pointer, and middle finger down his chest to just above his navel as if to sooth but also emphasized his warning.

 

“Julian, I need to…” Gaven whimpered.

 

“Not here and now. Tell me later. Tell me when it's real, Gaven. Right now I want you to WAKE UP.”

 

The voice and visage weren’t actually Julian. Instead, it was his mind projecting a warning that his consciousness would react to.

 

In the meantime, a computer sensor suddenly sounded in Gaven’s actual room where Julian was still sitting with him. Apparently, Dr. Fisk hadn’t been entirely short-sighted after all in allowing Gaven to convalesce at home. Seconds later before even Julian had time to react Cheval was back. The color in his face indicating that he’d likely run at high speed from wherever he had been, no doubt aware through their psychic connection that something was wrong before the computer had picked up the signs of distress.

 

Julian’s eyes shot open as he and Cheval locked on each other with matching dismay. Both realizing response time was critical.

 

Forgetting all his own troubles, Julian immediately shifted into his doctor mode. “Computer, medical emergency at my coordinates. Page all available senior medical personnel and get me a medevac now!”

 

He then shifted his commanding gaze to Cheval. “Can you pull him out of stasis?”

 

Cheval had already entered the room and was using his own abilities to assess the situation while Julian quickly tested his vitals.

 

“He is coming out of it on his own. He knows something is wrong, and the adrenaline is bringing him out. It must be something life-threatening. Your bag, Doctor.” Anticipating the fact that Julian couldn’t further triage the situation without his standard traveling medical equipment, Cheval in his wisdom had grabbed Gaven’s medical bag, as he’d come into the room and handed it over.

 

“Thanks.” Julian muttered as he jerked it open and fished out the medical tricorder. “His white count is off the charts, and his body temperature is rising. It must be an infection somewhere. But how the Hell would no one have caught it until now?”

 

“Not the most important question, Doctor. Brace yourself, he is about to break into awareness...Now.” As if on cue Gaven’s deeply bloodshot eyes shot open and he instantly sat up with some force gasping for air. Both men caught him by the shoulders.

 

“Gaven? Gaven, relax! Don’t fight us. The medevac team is coming now. I need you to talk to me. Gaven!” Julian ordered as they both held him still while he came back into himself.

 

“Gaven where is the problem? I know you know what’s going on. Breathe and then tell me so we can help you. It’s all right. We have you. I promise. There..there good.”

 

Gaven wheezed as he tried to adjust and focus. Realizing he was awake and in unyielding pain. His chest was heaving with excursion as he attempted to formulate his words. “Blood infection. Fungal. Invasive.”

 

His words were wet and croaking, as blood appeared on his lips as it drained down the back of Gaven’s throat, not enough to completely choke him but enough to garble his words.

 

“Doctor Bashir. If it’s a fungal infection he had to have gained exposure somewhere else other than the station.” Cheval said suddenly.

 

“Gulba IV. It’s the only place he’s been since arriving...Good God, you don’t think? I know he was harvesting tissue samples from himself, but surely he was careful and did it safely.” Julian muttered.

 

“He has been significantly depressed, are you sure about his actual collecting techniques?” Cheval sounded deeply skeptical.

 

”No. Damn. Gaven, I need to see your thigh where you pulled some of your tissue samples from. Help me, Jyrrus. I want him on his side anyway before he aspirates on his own blood.” As they turned him over together, Julian scanned for what he was looking for. “There. What does that look like to you?”

 

Cheval looked using his own expertise in the sciences to his advantage. “That looks like a fungal skin infection to me. Probably a form of Gulbian Candidias. Ingested it’s harmless but if it were to get into an open wound…”

 

“Right. We must get him to the infirmary now. Can you synthesize a treatment based on what you see here?”

 

“Yes. The fungal spores captured in the scabbing should be enough. But you will have to get his temperature down, or his body will kill anything I synthesize.” Cheval agreed.

 

“Leave that problem to me.” Julian muttered grimly.

 

~@~

 

It was all hands on deck after that.

 

Jyrrus Cheval and Julian escorted the medevac team back to the infirmary while Doctor Fisk prepped an O.R. suite that was miraculously ready the moment they arrived. Even Zimmerman was called in to assist, promptly interrupting his nauseatingly presumptuous conversation with Leeta over her possibly coming to work on the Jupiter station just so that Zimmerman could continue his salacious attempts to romance her once he went home.

 

In the meantime, Gaven was spitting up blood and doing his level best to stay conscious. Once he was in the infirmary and sequestered correctly in the private operating room, Cheval stepped over into the adjacent lab with the spore samples to begin to work his magic as a scientist and botanist while Julian and Jeremiah further assessed the situation as they struggled to stabilize Gaven.

 

The Captain was notified of the situation but remained in his office, preferring to stay out of the doctors ways until the situation was resolved.

 

The first order of business was to get Gaven’s blood pressure under control and his body temperature down.

 

“Shit!” Fisk barked as they worked swiftly. “He’s going into advanced hypovolemic shock. He’s got to be hemorrhaging internally somewhere. Probably along the GI tract. You gotta guide me here, boy. I don’t know his physiology like you do.”

 

“It’s his reproductive Augmentation. The infection is causing it to reject. We need to run a bag of Nephecin. I have no idea if it’ll work on an Oum, but we have to try it. That should help stop the rejection process. Jyrrus! How far away are we?” Julian yelled.

 

“An estimated forty-five minutes, Doctor.” Jyrrus yelled back with typical Vulcan authority.

 

“I need it in less than thirty, or this may not work. We need to drain the trapped blood. It looks like some kind of sack lining. I think I can aspirate, but once it’s clear, you’ll have to introduce a emboli one vessel at a time until the bleeding either stops entirely or slows down enough to no longer be a threat. I’m personally not going to be able to do this myself, I…”

 

“Like Hell, you can’t!” Jeremiah retorted sharply. “I haven’t performed this level of minute surgery in fifteen years, and I certainly don’t plan to start now when I’m elbows deep into an alien body I’ve never seen before. Now I don’t care what your recent hang-ups are, son. I need you to get with the program here or we’re going to lose this patient.”

 

“This isn’t a debate, Remi. Look, I’m shaking like a leaf over here. My nerves can’t handle it. Someone else needs to take point in this.” Julian argued.

 

“Who exactly did you have in mind? Lewis? He isn’t even here yet. The schmuck. And last I checked he doesn't exactly have clearance to work on Doctor Ore.” Jeremiah argued.

 

“What about the EMH program? Lewis installed one here on the station for his personal consultation while working on the LMH, didn’t he? I could upload Gaven’s private physiology files and…”

 

Speaking of the devil, just as Julian mentioned Zimmerman’s name the wormy man appeared having the nerve to look only passingly concerned with what could possibly be going on that the other doctors couldn’t handle. When he happened to take a look at who was on the O.R. table and what the man looked like in his current off color and mostly exposed state, Lewis looked like he might actually bolt out of the room.

 

“You! Stay and not a single word until one of us talks to you. What you’re seeing here is absolutely classified under the statute of don’t make me call your mother. Am I understood?” At that, Jeremiah looked back at Julian, clear disappointment on his face. “As for you my boy, under the circumstances, I can’t make you perform surgery you don’t think you're up to. Load the damn EMH program and let's pray it knows what it’s doing better than we do.”

 

With the help of a very confused and gravely white looking Zimmerman, the EMH program was activated and swiftly brought up to point.

 

During that time, Julian was able to assist Remi in draining Gaven’s blood filled uteral sack that usually would be absorbed back into his body in a few days. To his credit, Gaven stayed mostly conscious through the entire ordeal, if ominously silent. Jyrrus also pulled through for everyone in record time and was able to synthesize an antibiotic serum designed to isolate the fungal spores and kill them. Though, like Jeremiah, he was exceedingly unhappy to see the EMH program taking over Gaven’s care.

 

“Well, isn’t this a fun party.” The EMH program muttered as it did its job, noting the tension all around it.

 

Suddenly an alarm went off on one of the sensors indicating a rapid drop in blood pressure.

 

“He’s destabilizing.” Jeremiah observed.

 

“Yes, hm. Well, gentleman, I’m afraid there simply isn’t going to be enough time to finish the embolization process. My recommendation is to surgically sever the uterine wall and cauterize it. Your friend here won't be able to carry anymore, but at least he’ll be alive.” The EMH program muttered.

 

At that Gaven finally rallied, thanks in part to Cheval helping him along with his Vulcan mental fortitudes which he was currently sharing with Gaven now that his role in the operation was over.

 

“No.” Gaven breathed, his word barely audible. “Ju...Julian. You can’t le-let him do that. Please. You can finish the procedure. I know you can. Julian, I KNOW you can do it. It’s...it’s like you said. You...and I...Are more alike...Than different. We’re just two extraordinary people, remember? Prove it, Julian. For once, be the person you are. Not the person you think you have to be.”

 

He knows. Julian realized.

 

Gaven knew he was a human Augment. Was it possible he’d known all the time? Most of what he’d said likely hadn’t been discernable by the others except for Cheval who had the benefit of Vulcan hearing.

 

“Alright, Gaven. I won’t let them take your reproductive abilities away from you, but you have to pay me back by surviving this. We have things to say to each other.” Julian remarked stoically as a strange clarity came over him. An acute sharpness of will and ability.

 

Julian looked at the EMH program. “If you would kindly step aside, Doctor. I’ll take it from here.”

 

Julian’s tone was deadly serious, and even the EMH program had enough sense to back off of Gaven. “Doctor.”

 

“What the Hell is he doing?” Zimmerman protested. “No human is as fast as the EMH program. You’re throwing away the best chance you have...What the Hell kind of operation is this?”

 

“I am that fast.” Julian muttered, darkly as he took a deep breath and willed every bit of concentration, he had into steadying his hands and initiated the embolization process.

 

“I can help you.” Cheval remarked suddenly coming forward to place one hand lightly on Julian’s shoulder as he clasped Gaven’s hand. “I can help you link with him. Gaven can help guide you from there.”

 

“Do it.” Julian muttered ignoring everyone else. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

 

Fisk pulled back from the three men, his services no longer needed as he moved to stand next to Lewis.

 

What the Hell am I seeing?” Zimmerman muttered.

 

“A certifiable miracle. Now quiet and watch the show.” Jeremiah warned him.

 

What transpired next was only possible because of Julian’s hidden Augment abilities, even without Gaven linking with him to help guide his hands to the right vessels, Julian worked with such speed and acute precision that it indeed surpassed the rate of the EMH. Every part if Julian was honed to the minute necessities of his task. Nothing could break his razor attention as he swiftly embolized more vessels than anyone could keep count of. His efforts coupled with the earlier efforts of Cheval showed immediate positive results.

 

“Amazing.” Jeremiah said in a misty fashion.

 

“And utterly impossible unless you're an Android or…” Zimmerman gasped audibly as his neck recoiled down into the collar of his shirt like a turtle before his intellect could take back over and reestablish his sense of superiority.

 

“So,” Zimmerman said in a scandalously. “You’re an Augment. That’s the only possible explanation.”

 

“Lewis. Not. Now.” Julian muttered dangerously. “Remi, get him out of here while I’m trying to work. Gaven’s not out of the woods yet, and I’ll go to Hell before I lose control of this situation now.”

 

“You. Out.” Jeremiah said, before grabbing a protesting Zimmerman and dragging him out of the room by the collar. “We’ll just be out here, gentlemen. Call me if you need me. Kay?”

 

Julian finished his work and had Cheval read him back the computer readings. Slowly everything started to stabilize, and an hour later, Julian finally peeled off his gloves.

 

Gaven was resting now. Alive and in one piece. He’d need a few days of follow up before he could leave the infirmary.

 

“Thank you, Doctor Bashir.” Cheval said at length. “I am sure there will be trouble for you now.”

 

Julian considered this remark and dismissed it. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now...Except for the fact that I don’t regret it. Come what may when I step out of this O.R., I don’t regret it at all. Watch over him, Cheval. He’s going to need someone when he wakes up.”

 

Chapter 22: Fallout

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Two: Fallout

 

“We have a serious problem on our hands here, and before I decide the best course of action, I want to make sure I hear all sides of the situation.” Benjamin remarked evenly to Jeremiah as they conferenced together in his office.

 

“There’s been an accusation put forward by Doctor Zimmerman that Julian Bashir has been hiding the fact that he’s an Augmented human and that he’s been illegally practicing medicine. Now I must admit, I might have dismissed the accusation as professional jealousy if I didn’t personally see the EMH recording of the incident. I need your professional opinion, Jeremiah. Is it possible that Doctor Bashir merely got lucky? Or is there something to the accusation?”

 

“Well, medicine really is more art than science. There are several factors to consider here. While it is true that Julian Bashir is something of a known prodigy in his field, that by no means is an indication of anything suspicious. His track record is exemplary but not perfect. We must also consider his proven state of mental and physical duress. Under normal circumstances he shouldn’t have been involved in the operation at all, but, then again, I was the senior medical officer on duty and do have the ability to, um, pull qualified personnel back in if I think it’s in the best interest of the patient. It’s also important to consider the roles of Jyrrus Cheval and Doctor Ore himself. Both exhibit advanced empathic and telepathic abilities and at the time of the surgery all three men were linked psychically...So, huh, who's really to say why or how Doctor Bashir was able to pull off what he pulled off?” Jeremiah said, with a significant shrug.

 

“I see. Zimmerman claims that Doctor Bashir admitted to being advanced.” Benjamin continued.

 

“Well now there again is a matter of perception. Zimmerman concluded on his own that Doctor Bashir must be in Augment because he was able to work faster and with more precision than the EMH program could. But it should also be considered that Doctor Ore isn’t human and that not all aspects of his biology and medical needs were fully documented. The EMH program can, like any of us, only work with what it knows to be true as well as what becomes apparent in real time. Julian, on the other hand, is intimately familiar with Doctor Ore’s biology and has acted in the capacity of his personal physician all this time. He knows Doctor Ore better than anyone else from a medical standpoint. It’s true that Doctor Bashir admitted to being faster than the EMH program but by Zimmerman’s own accounts through his extensive interviews on the station and by Doctor Bashir’s own service records of past performance we know he always has had...A somewhat elevated opinion of himself. So, it’s possible to argue that Julian was only stating an opinion that he was faster than the computer. He did not, in my professional opinion, make an admittance of guilt.”

 

“I see. It already sounds like we’re building his defense. Doctor Zimmerman has told me he plans to retract Doctor Bashir’s qualification to be a model for the LMH program. Naturally, if he does so a report for his reasonings will also be filed with Starfleet Medical. They’d be obligated to investigate the accusation, regardless of what you or I think about it. We do have to consider the possibility that it’s true.” Benjamin remarked.

 

“The main issue, should things fall out that way, will be a question of if Julian knew about his Augmented status before he was accepted into Starfleet Medical, and whether or not he knowingly misled Starfleet Medical about it. We’ve come a long way in recent centuries in handling cases of illegal human Augmentation. I don’t think there’s been an official large-scale case regarding it in nearly a hundred years. Though I’d wager that it’s likely more common an occurrence than most would suspect. Nobody cares about the little tweaks. But when you completely change someone and then put them in a position of power and authority…” Jeremiah whistled through his teeth long and sharp. “Everyone suddenly gets all up in arms, lickety-split.”

 

“How much of a difference would it make?” Benjamin asked.

 

“Well, it’s a question of accountability. Many of the known and active cases of illegal Augmentation have been cases involving children. It’s not like kids can consent to have their noodles played with, and it’s usually the parents or guardians that call the shots. We in the medical ethics profession do have a certain semblance of compassion for such cases. In all cases involving minors, the child is considered the victim. If Julian Bashir is an Augment and that Augmentation happened in childhood, then it’s likely his parents who would be held accountable for the crime and not Julian. Though I must say, if he is an Augment then he is the nicest most stable well intended one I’ve ever met. Most young people that go through that come out of it irreparably damaged. Many of them end up in facilities unable to function in normal society. Julian is a clear exception if it’s true. But where it gets tricky is a question of awareness and intention. The rules about Augments serving in specific capacities are clear. Augmented humans can’t be doctors. At least not in Starfleet. If he knew before he was accepted and lied about it, that could be grounds for dismissal at the least. However, if he didn’t know until after he was accepted there would be cause to argue that he was pressured by circumstance to keep his status a secret.” Jeremiah explained.

 

“I see. Julian’s parents are here on the station. Starfleet Medical, of course, alerted them as next of kin when it looked like Julian might not survive his attack.” Benjamin mused.

 

“It might be worth talking to them at some point. I tell you, Ben, this is a very sticky situation we have here. Besides Julian, I doubt you're going to be able to keep Doctor Ore’s human facade up for very much longer. Even if Starfleet puts a gag order on Zimmerman, this was a close call, and he was transported publicly. People are going to have questions on the station. There aren’t many known diseases that turn a human that shade of blue.” Jeremiah warned.

 

“Maybe we shouldn’t try to conceal it anymore.” Benjamin wondered gravely. “I can’t say I believe it’s really been in Doctor Ore’s best interest to hide his identity. Maybe if he hadn’t been working so hard to try and conceal himself for Starfleet’s benefit this situation would have never escalated the way it did.”

 

“In my professional opinion, it’s been a travesty to that man’s mental health to expect him to hide who he is. I want to see the Dominion conflict come to a satisfactory end too, but I feel that Starfleet is playing a dangerous game here and at Doctor Ore’s expense. You know what he’s been through. Our people or someone posing as our people did that to him. We owe him something for that. A sense of identity, a sense of safety. Hell, an occasional cuddle if he lets someone. The man has done nothing but serve us, and he’s not even one of our people. Who's going to advocate for his rights as a living, intelligent free being if Starfleet doesn’t?” Fisk questioned.

 

Benjamin dipped his chin in consideration. “I will.”

 

“Good. I’ll help.” Jeremiah chirped flashing his horse like smile.

 

~@~

 

 

The next person on Benjamin’s interview list was Julian.

 

For his part, Julian hadn’t known quite what to do with himself. He felt more than trapped, he felt like the hangman was tightening his noose. No matter how he cut it, he couldn’t imagine a scenario that didn’t spell imminent doom for him. For his career. For his life as he knew it.

 

Well, Julian might not be able to save himself now. But he had saved Gaven and momentarily overcome his mental hang-ups enough to prove to himself he wasn’t completely useless as a doctor. There were also his parents to consider. Julian needed to get them off the station now before the death blow happened. If Starfleet Medical did indeed launch a formal investigation, there was a surety that his parents would come under fire. Julian couldn’t allow that. Not after nearly three decades of going above and beyond to try and protect them.

 

He knew that the moment the crisis was over Zimmerman had hurried off to the Captain’s office to lay out his protests and accusations. Julian had to move quickly now.

 

“Stay with him. Until the Captain comes, or Doctor Fisk returns. As of right now, this room is off limits to everyone else. Got it?” Julian muttered, his eyes falling onto Gaven’s resting form. His normal coloring was starting to return. Thank the Prophets. “I need to go. The Captain will no doubt want me at some point. Please, take care of him.”

 

“Yes, Doctor.” Cheval promised knowingly.

 

At Cheval’s response, Julian tore his gaze from Gaven and made a dash to his parents Quarters.

 

“Jules! Good news. It would seem Dr. Zimmerman has changed his mind about interviewing us. Everything is going to be alright now.” His mother Amsha reassured him.

 

“No. No mother, it’s not. You and father need to take your things and leave the station right now. I don’t care what excuse you use. Father’s an expert at them. Just so long as you go. Get as far away from here as possible.” Julian said nearly in a panic now that he had to look upon his mother’s face.

 

“What? What nonsense is this now? Why do we need to leave? What are you so hysterical about, boy?” His father demanded.

 

“Please!” Julian stomped his foot. “Look, something happened today in the infirmary that might have inadvertently exposed us. An accusation has been made by Doctor Zimmerman on suspicions of me being an Augment, and it’s only a matter of time before there’s an investigation.”

 

“Jules,” His mother dropped down into her chair in a near swoon as his father stomped around him to fan his wife and help support her as she spoke. “Of course. Of course, we will leave if that is what you think is best.”

 

“Jules, what did you do? You’ve been so careful all these years, and now you come here and tell me it's you who has spilled the beans? Don’t you think you owe us a little more explanation?” His father demanded.

 

“Stop it, Richard. It doesn’t matter what happened. We knew this day could come.” Amsha tried to reason with her husband who was clearly gearing up for a meltdown.

 

“After all that nonsense the other day about your mother and me? What did you do?” Richard demanded again.

 

“I saved someone’s life! Damn it all! What would you have me do? Let him die? For us? For you? What kind of man do you take me for? You know, I don’t even know why I bother. All of this is YOUR FAULT anyway. And believe it or not, I’m still trying to help you even though I shouldn’t. I should let Starfleet throw you to the wolves. But I can’t do that because despite everything I love you. I love you both, and I can’t stand the thought of either of you sitting in some prison somewhere because...because...I wasn’t a good enough son.” Julian finally said it.

 

The real sin of it all. The real thing that had made the genetic resequencing so painful to know about. “Why couldn’t you just love me the way I was? Why couldn’t you just leave me the way I was? I wasn’t hurting anyone.”

 

Ancient hurt overtook Julian for the first time in his life. The real thing he was angry with his parents about was now exposed for them all to see and face together.

 

“Listen to how ungrateful he is.” Richard Bashir muttered dispassionately. “We gave you the best life we could manage. You’ll never know what your mother and I sacrificed out of love and devotion to you. And now you shame us? Shame us for wanting our son to be the best he could be, not because you weren't good enough; but because we knew and believed you could be more, and you have become more. Look at how magnificent you are. That was our faults, too; but no matter what you say you can’t make me regret it. You want us to go, then we will go. To the other end of the universe never to come back if it pleases you.” All the passion that usually flanked Richard’s fights with his son was extinguishing now.

 

Julian had never seen his father look so dejected. Even his mother had gone quiet, and only her sniffling into her sleeve could be heard as the couple clung to each other in weak, heavy comfort.

 

“Mother, I…” Julian began.

 

Her husband helped her to her feet as she hobbled like an old woman with Richard by her side supporting her towards her bedroom to pack. “No, Jules. No more of this. Your father and I have packing to do and things to arrange. It's over.”

 

Julian watched his parents walk past him like deathly phantoms. Was it possible that he had finally gone too far?

 

As much as he wanted to try and approach his parents again, a call from the Captain interrupted him. It appeared the inquisition was about to begin.

 

Girding his loins, Julian reluctantly left his parent’s quarters and made for the Captain’s conference room. To his relief, the only people present were Benjamin and Doctor Fisk.

 

“Please come in and sit down, Doctor.” Benjamin said gently.

 

“With, huh, all due respect to you Captain and Doctor Fisk over here I think I’d rather stand through this if you don’t mind, Sir. I’m not exactly feeling good about myself right now.” There was a look of fruitless resolve evident on his face.

 

“As you like, Doctor. I just need to ask you some questions. But before I begin, I’m obligated to tell you that Doctor Zimmerman has lodged a formal complaint against you. He seems to be under the impression that despite your exemplary service record and undeniable talent as a young doctor and officer that the embolization procedure you were involved with earlier today should not have been possible. He has chosen to explain your medical success by accusing you of genetic Augmentation. Now I want you to know that I’ve discussed the matter with Doctor Fisk and reviewed the medical tape of the procedure personally. Though I’m not a medical professional, I must admit that your achievement involving Doctor Ore’s care was nothing short of miraculous. Regardless of what the truth may or may not be, I need you to know there could be a formal investigation. If there is, Starfleet Medical will comb through every detail of your personal history looking for inconsistencies. I need to ask, is there anything I need to be worried about them finding?” Benjamin said at length as he stared at Julian stoically.

 

The moment Julian had always dreaded had finally arrived. For most of his life, he wondered what he would do and say when confronted with this question. Though Benjamin had worded it with more ambiguousness than Julian imagined, he knew what the Captain was really asking him. Was he an Augmented human?

 

“Yes.” Julian said in a whisper.

 

Even as he spoke the admittance, he felt something in him break open like a flood gate finally releasing its load.

 

“Maybe you should sit down, my boy.” Fisk said coming to put a hand on Julian’s shoulder. Julian didn’t protest and almost immediately sank down into the chair Fisk had pulled out for him.

 

“In the summer of my fourteenth year, I was away in Brighton at a Racquetball Tournament. I was competing with some of the best athletes in the world. My first international tournament. I’d been a national champion since I was ten and had only to keep going before I was the best of the best. Agatha Levouc was playing for the Americans. Impossibly tall. All the girls seemed tall that were my age. You know how it is. She was one of the most elegant players I ever saw. Not the best, but the most elegant. Watching her compete was like watching living art. She was magnificent, and I remember feeling jealous of her even though I knew I was technically better. I wasn’t due to compete until the last day. I remember feeling impatient about it. But Agatha was due to play first, and it was exciting to watch her. She fought beautifully during her match. Her opponent though caught a powerfully hard serve off her and before I knew it the most elegant player in the tournament, maybe to play in that entire year, was down. In a heartbeat, she’d absolutely shattered her knee cap. It wasn’t just a career ending injury, it also changed everything about her. I ran into her a year later while eating lunch near the sports academy. She was just as beautiful as ever, but her knee was in a permanent brace causing her to shuffle and struggle along. All, the elegance she’d enjoyed up until that point, the obvious thing that had made her so entirely special, was gone and I suddenly realized I didn’t want to be like her anymore. What I learned from that experience was that talent is fleeting. We all have to make the most of what we’re capable of while we can. I realized I didn’t want to be a Champion Racquetball player anymore. I wanted to be something nobler. Something that even if I faltered someday would have an undeniable impact. So, when I turned fifteen, I convinced my parents to let me take the early entrance exam for Starfleet Medical. My scores were in the top three percentile.” Julian explained.

 

Both Jeremiah and Benjamin exchanged glances but let Julian go on waiting for him to connect his thoughts back to the topic at hand.

 

“It seemed so obvious. I was going to become a doctor. Maybe even help people like Agatha find their grace again. There had been an earlier incident once when I was with my father where I watched a young girl needlessly die because there weren’t any people around with medical training. In that case, the plant capable of curing her had been growing a foot away on the cavern floor.” Julian scoffed.

 

“Naturally, Starfleet Medical was extremely interested in me. And of course, they asked for all the normal information. Family history, immunization records. Well, when I approached my parents to help me get some of my medical information for the academy, I found out my immunization records were incomplete. Something about a data server fire at the hospital I was born at. It wasn’t impossible to get new copies, but my father needed to go through a few special channels. Everything between the time I was two till the age of seven was missing. I didn’t think anything of it. These things do happen. One day, huh, I was looking for something in my father's office. I was never really allowed to be in there when he was away from home. And that’s when I found them.” Julian leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“My father had kept an encrypted file in his office drawer with a password code in place. I’ve always been rather good at puzzles, and I thought I’d just for the fun of it try and crack the undoubtedly simple encryption. I was just going to leave it at that, but before I could reset the encryption and put it away, I saw what was in the file. It was me. The real me. Pictures and records, tests, all indicating my...Diminished capacity. When I confronted my parents about what I’d found they told me the truth. That just before my seventh birthday they took their beautiful but painfully simple little boy away to Adigeon Prime.” Anger was clearly laced into his tone now. Anger and self-depreciation.

 

“During my two-month stay there the Doctors subjected me to a series of therapies designed to accelerate all critical neural pathway formations in the brain. The result is who you see before you now. Nothing is original not even my charming good looks. I know. I’ve seen the pictures. Everything was altered. My hand-eye coordination, reflexes, vision, stamina, and IQ. Even my projected height and weight was reconfigured. I understand I was something of a cuddly child before that.” Julian bounced his head. “But the real bitch of it all is that until that moment in my father’s study, I never knew. Nor do I believe my parents would have ever told me. None the wiser and all that. And of course, by the time I knew, I had already been accepted into Starfleet’s advanced junior medical program. If I had tried to back out back then, it would have seemed suspicious, and so I went on and haven’t told another soul about any of it till now. If all that makes me a bad person, a liar, a criminal; then fine. But I don’t regret any of it, and I’m tired of pretending like it isn’t apart of who I am. Is that sufficient gentlemen?”

 

“Can I ask you something?” Doctor Fisk piped in suddenly. “What do you want to see come out of this. Ideally, I mean?”

 

Julian raised his brow skeptically at the doctor sidelong. “Excuse me? I don’t think I understand your meaning.”

 

“Well...Let me put it another way. How important is being a doctor to you?” Fisk put to him.

 

“I love being a Doctor. I can’t say it was my first ambition in life, but it’s been the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t practice anymore.” Julian admitted.

 

“So really what your saying is being a doctor is who you really are. You feel defined by that role.” Jeremiah pressed.

 

“Yes. More than anything else.” Julian muttered meekly. “I know that sounds childish.”

 

“It sounds like an identity. Would you say your identity as a doctor is more important to you than your identity as someone who has been Augmented?”

 

“Yes.’ Julian said without hesitation. “My Augmentations may give me an advantage compared to some, but that doesn't mean I haven't worked for what I have. I've put the time in all these years. I spent over a decade in the specialized medical and command programs so that I could live out my ambition to heal people out on the frontier where experienced doctors are less plentiful. That is my job, my purpose, and my life. First and foremost.”

 

“If my genetic resequencing bothers anyone then, I'm sorry but, they can go straight to Hell.” Julian muttered knowing there was nothing left to lose now. “They can kick me out if necessary, detain and jail me, but they can't keep me from being who I am. I'm a doctor.”

 

The last bit was spoken with such conviction and dignity that both Benjamin and Jeremiah nodded in approval.

 

“That's good enough for me, Doctor.” Benjamin remarked compassionately. “Not to mention I'm mightily glad you feel that way. Doctor Ore might not be alive right now if your priorities were different. As far as I'm concerned nothing's changed. I'm only sorry that you've been put in such an unsavory position.”

 

“Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your kind words of compassion and support. I'm sorry that I've put you in such an awkward position with my predicament.” Julian sincerely apologized.

 

“If there aren't any further questions, Sir. I'd like to be dismissed until further action occurs. I want to spend some time on my own while I can still call Deep Space Nine my home.”

 

“Granted. You're dismissed, Doctor. Thank you for your honesty.”

 

Julian nodded curtly to them both and stood to turn and leave.

 

“Oh. Just a minute, Doctor.” Benjamin said suddenly just as Julian was about to open the door. “Don't start packing just yet. I don't plan to let you go anywhere.”

 

Julian paused and glanced back at Benjamin. “Yes. Thank you, Captain. I hope you achieve your ambition.”

 

After that Julian turned back on his heels and left.

 

 

Chapter 23: A Mother's Love

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Mother’s Love

 

Eventually, Gaven woke up in the softly lit recovery room of the Infirmary. All in all, most of the terrible pain he’d been in had subsided, bringing with its absence blissful relief in the hazy fog of coming through.

 

Although it hurt to roll onto his side, Gaven did it anyway. Curling into a soft S shape as he listened to the beeps of the equipment around him. He’d spent so long in the infirmary over the last several weeks that he wasn’t surprised to find himself there. Obviously, something had happened to him, but Gaven let himself drift for a while without trying to remember the details of anything.

 

 For the first time in a long time, he felt safe. Comfortable. At peace.

 

As he let his mind naturally drift the vague memory of someone brushing the hair from his eyes floated across his mind. It was a pleasant, if obscure, feeling even if Gaven couldn’t for the moment place the context or the figure responsible for it. In his exhaustion, he merely focused on the good feeling until awareness slowly crept in and poured cold water on his warm and welcome peace of mind.

 

Julian wasn’t there.

 

The realization and sudden confusion over why Julian weren’t in the room or nearby waiting for him to wake up suddenly caused Gaven to startle. His increased heart rate causing a bed sensor to go off.

 

Instantly a tight-lipped and worried Cheval appeared through the door of the private recovery room to Check on him.

 

Gaven half rolled back onto his back to peer at him. “What happened?”

 

“We are almost sure a fungal infection from your time on Gulba IV, got into your bloodstream through the wounds you gave yourself. As a result, you began to internally hemorrhage, and your reproductive organs began to reject and fail. Doctor Bashir managed to catch it in time and performed emergency surgery to save your life. You have been unconscious for the last three hours. The precarious nature of your physical state forced you out of stasis. How much do you remember?” Cheval asked.

 

Gaven cupped his face in his hands and rubbed slowly. “I remember putting myself into stasis. But after a while, I could tell there was something wrong. You and Julian were there with me when I first regained awareness and stayed with me while they brought me to the infirmary. Julian and Doctor Fisk argued, and...and that damn EMH program was activated.”

 

“Then…” Gaven suddenly started to struggle with the details. “Cheval, tell me they didn’t let that hologram perform surgery on me.”

 

Cheval heard the fear in Gaven’s tone and quickly moved to reassure him. “No. Doctor Bashir would not allow it. He did not agree with the EMH program’s assessment of the situation and chose to take matters into his own hands. He performed surgery to stop you from bleeding out and to preserve your reproductive system.” Cheval reminded him.

 

Gaven sighed and shook his head, slowly remembering more details. “Where’s the young genius now?”

 

“Possibly with the Captain. There was a complication. Doctor Bashir has been put in a compromising position.” Cheval admitted.

 

“What? Why? Over me?” Gaven didn’t follow immediately.

 

“Doctor Bashir has been accused of being a human Augment. In the Federation, it is illegal for humans to be genetically tampered with. Augmented human individuals are often looked on as being untrustworthy, unstable, and unfit for roles of authority. If Doctor Bashir is an Augment it may be grounds to remove him as a Starfleet doctor or other consequences might occur.” Cheval surmised.

 

“Yes, I remember reading up on the relationship between human genetic Augmentation and earth's history. As you know, it's relatively common practice on Oum, so it's been interesting to learn of such open hostility about it elsewhere in the universe. Must be a human thing.” Gaven muttered. “Who’s making the accusation, if I may ask?”

 

“Doctor Zimmerman.” Cheval remarked cautiously, sensing that Gaven was gathering information for some unknown purpose.

 

“Really.” Gaven scoffed. “Of course it is. Since you were there, what is your opinion?”

 

“About Doctor Bashir?” Cheval considered quietly. “His ability to compute appears to be above standard human capabilities, and he was faster than the EMH program during the surgery showing advanced hand-eye coordination and concentration that certainly was well beyond gifted parameters. Based on this information, I would surmise that his abilities are beyond normal human capacity, but I cannot say for certain how he came to be that capable.”

 

I can. Gaven thought darkly.

 

Gaven had already noted enough minute inconsistencies in Julian's early medical records to believe something had happened to him. Beyond that, Gaven had always suspected Julian's advanced ability and had caught him several times trying to hide a somewhat deeper persona then what he commonly preferred to present. But Gaven had never detected malicious dissent or malice regarding any of it. Julian was ultimately a kind, caring person and if he used his abilities to his advantage, then he did so from a place of good intention and personal responsibility. The Federation would be fools to punish him now for something that had directly benefited them and countless others throughout Julian’s short but notable career.

 

Gaven also understood what Starfleet was so afraid of. He’d read up on the eugenics wars of Earth’s past and of the trials of certain genetically Augmented humans of note. Most had become Machiavellian type criminals, amoralists, and elitists. But Julian, though he had the markings of a human ego like everyone else, had chosen to walk down a more altruistic and holistic path. Gaven understood this was because Julian’s base nature, the person he had always been before any tampering, was still there. It was still the driving force behind who he was. Gaven also suspected that the structure of Starfleet and the generally staunch and romanticized standards they observed on ethics had helped Julian anchor himself. If he ever lost that grip of taunt control, who was to say if he might be spurred into becoming the very thing they feared an Augmented person like himself could be?

 

Julian loved being a doctor and prided himself on being a Starfleet officer. How many times had he remarked to Gaven about the impact being on the Station had on him? If Julian lost his position, he would also lose his sense of home and family. It chilled Gaven to think Julian could have his sense of security threatened that way especially given what he’d recently experienced.

 

Gaven knew the pain of being an exile. It was a fate Julian Bashir didn’t deserve, and all of it was coming about because of him. A streak of self-loathing flashed through him. Gaven realized he had to do something about this. It was his fault that Julian had been exposed.

 

Gingerly trying to sit up Gaven began to pull the various sensors off his skin causing some of them to sound.

 

“What are you doing?” Cheval protested as he caught Gaven by the shoulder trying to discourage him.

 

“I need to get out of here.” Gaven muttered.

 

“I am sorry, Doctor. I cannot allow you to do that. You are still recovering from major surgery, and you have not properly recouped your strength. Do not force me to summon Doctor Fisk.” Cheval said quickly and firmly.

 

“Someone has to help Julian. It’s not right that he has to go through this.” Gaven argued in frustration.

 

“I am sure the Captain and Doctor Fisk are formulating a plan. My impression is that no one wants Doctor Bashir to be professionally compromised.” Cheval said trying to reassure him.

 

“Yes, the damn Federation does like to hold onto it’s better assets.” Gaven muttered bitterly. “Someone needs to talk to him. Someone he trusts. I…”

 

Gaven was suddenly shushed by the sound of someone calling through the infirmary.

 

“Jules? Jules, my son, are you here?” It was Amsha looking for Julian.

 

Cheval and Gaven exchanged looks before Gaven started to stir again. For a few seconds, a silent negotiation was carried forth between them that ended with Gaven back in bed and an extra blanket being tucked around his shoulders to shroud and hide his abdominal slits. Once he was covered, Cheval moved to the recovery room’s door and demurely stepped out into the infirmary.

 

“Excuse me, Madam. Who is it that you are looking for?” Cheval inquired gently.

 

“My son. Doctor Julian Bashir.” Amsha said hopefully. She was dressed in her traveling clothes with a headscarf draped about her face and shoulders.

 

“I am afraid the Doctor is not here. He assisted in an important surgery this morning, and it is possible that he is still debriefing the Captain about it. I am sure if you wait, he will return.” Cheval proposed.

 

“Oh.” The woman said crestfallen. “No, I cannot wait for him here. My husband and I have been suddenly called away on important business back home. We’re leaving within the hour. Tell me though, if Jules is not here, is Doctor Gaven Ore available? You see he saved my son’s life and my husband and I, we were hoping to thank him.”

 

Cheval blinked once in rapt consideration. “Doctor Ore is here in the infirmary. As it happens, he was admitted for emergency surgery this morning and is presently recovering. Doctor Bashir is credited with the success of the procedure. If you wish, I am sure Doctor Ore would be pleased to have you visit with him. He is awake now, and I know he would enjoy making your formal acquaintance.”

 

Amsha’s eyes suddenly lit up at the opportunity, and she vigorously shook her head in agreement. “Yes. Please.”

 

“Very well. Come this way.” Cheval directed her to the recovery room and slipped back in keeping the door ajar. “Gaven, Mrs. Bashir is here and would like to visit with you.”

 

“Please, let her come in.” Gaven said calmly.

 

Cheval opened the door wider to admit Amsha in and promptly resecured the door behind them remaining outside of it for the sake of their privacy.

 

“Mrs. Bashir. It is a profound honor to finally meet you. Please excuse my appearance, I wish we might have met under better circumstances.” Gaven said quietly. “My name is Gaven Ore.”

 

Amsha approached him quietly and with profound dignity. “No. It is my honor to meet the man who saved my son. There is nothing our family can do to fully repay the debt we owe you.”

 

Gaven smiled kindly. “There is no debt between us, Mrs. Bashir, and even if there was, I think Julian has more then returned the favor. You see he not only saved my life today but preserved something that was particularly important to me. In this way, I believe we are both nearly even. Your son is an extraordinary man. You cannot imagine what he’s accomplished out here and how important he’s become to so many people. When I came to the station, Julian went above and beyond to befriend me. I admit I was difficult and reluctant at first. But, eventually, he wore me down. I've become a better person for it.”

 

Gaven’s gaze had dropped into his lap, and a fond reminiscent smile came over his somewhat haggard features.

 

Amsha observed Gaven with a mother's eyes. “It must have been very lonely wherever you came from, Doctor Ore. I can see how deeply attached you are to my Jules and how important he is to you. Please, call me Amsha.”

 

“Amsha.” Gaven nodded. “He is important to me. I’ve worked with your son very closely for a long time now. We’ve come to rely on each other personally as much as we have professionally. Which is why I’m sorry. This situation you and your family find yourselves in is my fault. Julian was exposed while saving my life. I’ve known he was Augmented since I saved his, though he doesn’t know I know, and I’ve kept it to myself for his sake. For various personal reasons I want you to know that I’m not bothered by what Julian is even if he is bothered by it. I know that he could lose everything now and I don’t know how to make it right.”

 

Gaven confessed, looking genuinely remorseful.

 

Tears filled Amsha’s eyes. “You knew about my Jules?”

 

Gaven nodded slowly. “It’s been a terrible burden I’m sure for him to hide as he has. I’m also sure it’s been a terrible burden for you to be so alienated from your son. Why did you do it to him Amsha?”

 

It was a guess, a gamble. But he persisted with the subtle indication that he suspected it had been Amsha and not her husband who had pushed, perhaps even insisted for Julian to be Augmented.

 

It was Amsha’s turn for shame to come into her face.

 

“It was my fault that my husband and I could not conceive. Having children was never particularly important to me because I always knew it was a statistical impossibility long before I met Richard Bashir. I was nearly forty when Richard married me. His love and devotion for me was flattering and infectious. He is a man of innocent passion and fertile imagination, you see. I know Jules doesn’t see his father as a very successful person, and to be sure there is an element of ridiculous abandon to my husband regarding his projects. But in his youth, he was a quite accomplished entrepreneur and visionary. Everyone liked him, and I had the good fortune to love him and to be loved by him in return. Richard was nearly fifteen years younger than me. I admit it often added spice to our union in surprising ways as well as hardship. Though he never pressured me about children, I could see how he longed privately to be a father. What was I to do?” Amsha revealed.

 

Gaven sighed, sensing where the conversation was leading and offered her his hand. “Sometimes I think Julian underestimates you and your husband, Amsha. I know he likes to think all his abilities come solely from is Augmentations, but I somehow suspect that’s not completely true. The way you describe your husband, and from what I see in you I see much of Julian in you both. Tell me what happened? I would like to understand.”

 

Gaven extended his hand and Amsha took it in hers settling into a stool beside him.

 

“Jules isn’t the only member of the family to have enrolled in Starfleet. Both my grandmother and her sister were officers. Back in those days being in Starfleet really was fully about exploration. Jules comes from a long tradition of pioneering. As for my father, he wanted something more sedentary for his children, so he remained in civilian life and raised me in the traditions of our ancestors. Nevertheless, my family maintained its various connections.” Amsha eluded.

 

“Is that how you became connected with Adigeon Prime?” Gaven inquired.

 

“My grandmother helped establish an advanced medical depot there during her career with Starfleet. It's still in operation today, I am proud to say. When my husband and I decided to try for Jules, my husband Richard used his family properties as collateral to afford the fertility Augmentation that allowed me to conceive. It wasn't considered illegal, but it cost Richard everything. I became pregnant a year later. It was our proudest moment second only to Jules birth. He was a fine baby. Richard, I remember, doted on him to no end. But when Jules started missing his infant milestones, we became concerned.” She lamented.

 

“Was there a medical reason for his developmental delays?” Gaven asked gently.

 

Amsha sighed. “Children are still a great mystery in the universe. We did nothing wrong beyond perhaps me being so advanced in years. As far as we've come in the medical sciences, there are still many things we cannot know. At first, we thought perhaps he would simply be late to develop, but by the time Jules was two his disadvantages became clear. My husband wouldn't accept it. He nearly struck the specialist that confirmed the prognosis. It was a very difficult time for us as a family.”

 

“What made you both decide to take him back to Adegion Prime?” Gaven asked.

 

At this Amsha frowned even deeper. “Richard was always so much better with Jules than I was in those early years. But we had so little money, and it required him to be absent from home often trying to provide. For myself, I did the best I could, and we all got on. But when it was time for Jules to go to school, we started experiencing problems. He didn't do well being separated from me, and it was difficult for the teachers to accommodate him. He was an extremely sweet and sensitive little boy. One day he came home from school with a black eye. One of his classmates had struck him when he wouldn’t fight back after being called names. Another time, he nearly drowned on a family trip when he tried to save a duckling from falling into a creek. He didn't understand the duckling could swim. How do you think those incidents made me feel? With his father away it was my job to protect my son. The summer he nearly drowned my husband, and I made the impossible decision to go back to Gideon Prime. We never anticipated the results of that choice. A choice I insisted upon. I just wanted my little boy to be like everyone else. I didn't want him to get hurt or end up in an institution when we could no longer take care of him. Do you think all that makes me a bad mother?”

 

Amsha’s eyes were large and glimmered wide with unshed tears.

 

“I think anything done for love is not the hallmark of a bad person. I can't condone what you and your husband did, but I do understand what it's like to fear for someone you love so deeply that it makes you do seemingly impossible things. Right or wrong, Julian is who and what he is. There is no taking it back now. I know he doesn't always understand these things. Maybe because they have never been properly explained to him. I know he likely feels deeply conflicted by it all. I'm sure that he's torn between the consequences of who he is and the love he feels for the both of you. In your mutual sense of sacrifice, perhaps you are most alike. I believe Julian would sacrifice everything he's accomplished to protect the two of you. I believe he would give up everything out of love.” Gaven warned her.

 

“Perhaps we have been the ungrateful ones.” Amsha mused. “I don't want my Jules to lose the things that have given his life so much joy and meaning. I am not so selfish a mother as all that. Perhaps it's time for Richard and me to stop running from our mistakes. For Jules sake as much as our own. He asked us to flee from here.”

 

Gaven nodded knowingly. “What will you do?”

 

“Amsha, my love. What are you doing in here? We must hurry. The transport is docking as I speak.” Richard Bashir interrupted sticking his head through the door.

 

Amsha instantly stood up. “Richard, this is Doctor Gaven Ore. He is the one responsible for saving our Jules. Get in here right now and thank him.”

 

At her whim, Richard was let further into the room.

 

“Mr. Bashir, I…” before Gaven could finish his thought, Richard Bashir had rushed him and caught him in a tight embrace as his wife spoke to him reminding her husband that Gaven was unwell and likely didn't appreciate being manhandled just then.

 

Richard pulled away but gripped Gaven’s hand shaking it profusely. “Doctor, I have no words for what you have done for our beloved son and for us. Please, if you ever need anything, you must let us know.”

 

“Richard, Doctor Ore says our Jules is in trouble. We must do something.” Amsha pressed him.

 

“Well, that’s obvious. But Jules doesn't want us here. He…” Richard was promptly cut off by his wife who bore such a disapproving look that he instantly stopped talking.

 

“What can we do?” Richard said at length looking worried and unsure.

 

“You could take responsibility.” Gaven offered.

 

Richard shot Gaven a bewildered look before his wife calmly muttered, “He knows about Jules. He's known all this time and what he didn't know I have told him.”

 

“Don't worry, Mr. Bashir. I assure you that Julian knows a few secrets of his own about me. Enough to put targets on both our back. You have my complete confidence, I promise you.”

 

Richard sighed. “Amsha, we've been over this.”

 

“Richard, we've had a good life. You have been a good father and husband, but if we don't do something now, then we truly will be the villains of our son’s life. I'm tired of all of it. Aren't you?” Amsha implored him.

 

Richard gazed into his beloved wife's face as if searching for something. Eventually, he seemed to find it and nodded. “Alright, my love. Alright. No more lies, no more running. For Jules sake and for our own. We have had a good life. I would like our son to benefit from the same freedoms we have enjoyed all these many years.”

 

Gaven smiled softly. “I believe you will find Captain Sisko to be your ally in this. I would recommend you go to him first. He’s a capable man, and he'll know what to do.”

 

Chapter 24: Where the Blame Lies

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Four: Where the Blame Lies

 

Doctor Fisk did return to the infirmary soon after Gaven’s conversation with Julian’s parents to check on him and to give Cheval a chance to rest for a while.

 

“Well? How are we doing? I heard you gave your watchman a little trouble earlier.” Fisk remarked checking Gaven’s vitals and the healing incision along his abdomen.

 

Gaven leveled a glare at Jeramiah. “I’m feeling better than I was, thank you.”

 

“Gooood. Want to talk about that death glare you’re giving me then?” Fisk chirped.

 

“You shouldn’t have let Zimmerman assist in the operation.” Gaven leveled the criticism at him.

 

“Hm. You’re probably right. I also shouldn’t have let Julian operate on you when he was supposed to be on medical leave. But then again, if I hadn’t let him, you’d probably be in a sad state or dead my friend. I doubt any of us wanted that outcome either. As for Zimmerman, he is a qualified medical professional despite his alarmist character, and I was a bit at a disadvantage with you. Now, you’re welcome to be mad at me all you want; but Julian knew what he was doing when he had Zimmerman activate the EMH program and it was his choice to intercede on your behalf when the EMH proved to be inadequate. Now, want to talk about what you’re really angry about?” Jeremiah said in his wisdom.

 

Gaven sighed, knowing Jeremiah was right. “I want to speak to Julian before he does something he’ll regret, but no one will let me leave and I doubt he’d be willing to come back to the infirmary right now. Jeremiah, you have to let me out of here. Please. Just for a few hours. I promise once I talk to Julian you can tie me to the bed if you want.”

 

“Hm, sounds like the last hospital Christmas party I attended. You’re really that worried about him, eh?” Jeremiah settled on the rolling stool and began pushing himself back and forth in it.

 

“Yes. I am. Are you going to let me out of here or not?” Gaven asked flatly.

 

Jeremiah looked over his spectacles at Gaven and wondered to himself. “It’s not your fault, you know. Going to him now and trying to take the blame won’t really be helpful to him.”

 

“I just want to talk to him. Damn me for my idiocy. You know, I should have known something was wrong sooner. I should have been able to feel it.” Gaven argued.

 

“Well,” Jeremiah shrugged clapping his hands against his thighs. “You have been busy. Sometimes when we focus too much on taking care of others, we forget to take care of ourselves. I’d like to talk with you sometime about how that infection came about. I’ve been to Gulba IV. Their science and medical facilities aren’t THAT bad.”

“Is talking to you in the future going to be a stipulation to me getting out of here today?” Gaven challenged lightly.

 

“No, but I still think you should visit with me in the future. It’s important to have support in your life.” Fisk said with compassion. “I do have one question for you though. Call it professional curiosity.”

 

“This, huh, thing with your reproductive system you go through. Is that new for you? Julian mentioned you’d been biologically Augmented for reproductive purposes.” Jeremiah inquired.

 

“Mm. Yes. I should explain that due to the unique ways the Oum have adapted to the poly exposure we experience on our planet there is a great deal of genetic mosaicism present and most Oum are intersex. Many times, Augmentations can be made to help support reproductive initiatives if there is a deficiency.” Gaven explained factually.

 

“Fascinating. At the risk of being insensitive, may I ask what your exact reproductive layout is? I assume you still plan to perhaps have children someday since you seem to be so keen on protecting your reproductive abilities.” Fisk asked in the capacity of Gaven’s current physician.

 

Gaven smiled slightly. He was fully aware that alien reproduction was a fascinating study and that his seeming reproductive ambiguity generated both personal as well as professional interest.

 

“Theoretically, I am capable of both siring offspring and gestating them. Although the Oum visually present as a two gender binary, we’re really non-gendered. My carrier abilities were added later in my case. But plenty of Oum have one ability or the other, both or, neither. If fertility is present in one form or another, an Oum can petition for additional biological Augmentation. The addition of my carrier ability creates unique hormonal phenomena as you have now seen. Normally it would be abated through the release of oxytocin and vasopressin especially if fertilization were to be achieved. My bondmate and I had only been through one reproductive cycle at the time of his death. We unfortunately failed to conceive during that time.” Gaven explained.

 

“I’m deeply sorry for your profound loss on both fronts. The Oum seem pretty socially political as cultures go. Benjamin lent me the cliff notes to your cultural...novels. You do have a way with words, by the way. But I gotta say, I’m kind of surprised.” Jeremiah baited.

 

“About?” Gaven asked.

 

“Ah well from my understanding, and correct me if I’m wrong, bonded mates don’t procreate outside of their bond pairings. Now that you’ve lost your partner, I find it interesting that maintaining your reproductive abilities such as they are is so important to you. Have you thought about trying again? Maybe settling down again someday with someone new? You’re not on Oum anymore, after all. And your still pretty young. I’m just saying, it might be something to think about. Someday.” Jeremiah had a way of making his point in such a manner where he encouraged a person without calling them out on their hang ups completely.

 

Jeremiah observed something soft flutter across Gaven’s feature. The look was telling enough despite that Gaven didn’t bother to offer a reply.

 

“As for Julian, I suppose…” Jeremiah hemmed, rubbing at his jaw. “I’ll give you half an hour to see him, make your arguments, and get your ass back into my infirmary. Alien or not, you young doctors are all the same. You all think you're invincible. Well Sonny Jim, let me tell you. You’re not. Try to keep that in mind in the near future, please. And remember that I am an old man.”

 

“Agreed.” Gaven conceded.

 

Gaven and Jeremiah spent the next thirty minutes redressing Gaven's surgical wound so it wouldn't break open from his unscheduled trip and got him gingerly back into some clean clothes. Jeremiah was nice enough to provide Gaven with a jacket that had a hood on it to help him keep a low profile while he was out and gave him strict instructions that if he weren’t back in a timely manner, Fisk would sick Odo on him and have him escorted back. He also made Gaven swap out his single forearm crutch with a pair and, after seeing him walk a bit in them, agreed to extend the allotted time out to compensate for how long it would take Gaven to bumble his way to Julian's quarters.

 

“Well, my boy. Godspeed and good luck.” Jeremiah said encouragingly as he finally let Gaven go. “Try to be gentle with him. He’s certainly not going to be gentle with himself.”

 

“I’ll do what I can.” Gaven promised.

 

“Mm. I hope you do. Julian doesn't know how lucky he is to have you looking out for him. Hopefully, the boy will learn. Anyway, you better get going before my better judgement kicks in. Remember, Cinderella. You get on hour and that includes commute time.”

 

“I know. Thank you for this.” Gaven said.

 

“Don’t mention it.” Fisk murmured.

 

The older doctor watched Gaven go following him out into the edge of the infirmary and shook his head as Gaven disappeared. “If either of them had any sense at all they’d bypass conversing and get right down to some good old-fashioned canoodling.  But then again, what do I know? I'm just a doctor.”

 

The whole last bit, Jeremiah said indulgently to himself once Gaven was out of earshot. Shaking his head at the idiocy of youth, he turned around and dawdled back into his office. There was much work to do.

 

~@~

 

Julian was in his quarters numbly packing. It was a slow process mostly meant to give him something logical to focus on. Never in all his life did he feel so disconnected from anything that made sense.

 

When his door rang, Julian barely noticed it and bid whoever it was to enter without any thought to who it could have been.

 

“You…” Julian scolded deeply when Gaven appeared leaning heavily into his door frame.

 

“Hello, Julian. If you don’t mind, I’d like to come in. You really live awfully far away from the infirmary for how much time you spend there.” Gaven muttered in a low tired tone.

 

“Computer, medical...” Julian was promptly cut off.

 

“Computer, delay that alert. Julian, Doctor Fisk gave me clearance to come here, but there's not a lot of time and I'm very tired.” Gaven muttered.

 

“He wouldn’t...That is the stupidest thing I’ve…” Julian protested.

 

Gaven rolled his eyes and held up a handwritten note in Jeremiah’s handwriting. The note read:

 

TICK, TOCK.

[Hallpass]

 

Julian groaned recognizing it as the same note Fisk used to make his students carry every time someone interrupted one of his lectures to go to the bathroom.

 

“Get in here before you kill yourself and make my nightmare complete.” Julian muttered as he continued to scowl and backed up into the room to let Gaven in.

 

“I don't know what the Hell you’re thinking sometimes.” Julian began to reprimand him.

 

“Julian, I just wanted to talk to you.” Gaven said reproachfully leaning back against the closed entrance door.

 

“I don’t have anything I want to say. I just...Want to be left alone for a while.” Julian muttered quietly.

 

“Are you really just going to take all of this like that?” Gaven challenged.

 

“Oh. I see. So, you already know what’s going on. And now you’ve come to try and console me. Well don’t bother. I don’t want your pity.” Julian said in a slow dark tone.

 

“Julian, stop it.” Gaven said. “You need to talk about this. I need to talk about this.”

 

“You need? You? This isn’t happening to you. Why do you feel the need to insert yourself into everything all the time? Why can't you just stay out of it? You’re not a human, you can’t understand the magnitude of the shit I’m in.” Julian insisted.

 

“I can’t understand? I can’t understand having to live in obscurity because something about me is unacceptable to everyone else? You think I don’t know what that’s like? What it’s like to have someone I love tell me constantly how special I am only to have the very things that make me special threaten everything I care about? Don’t you tell me I can’t understand it, Julian. I’ve given up everything I ever had to be true to what makes me who I am. And despite it all, I’m still here. I’m still me. I fought for me, and I won. You can win this too, but you have to try.” Gaven said passionately.

 

“No. I can’t fight this and soon it’s going to be all over. Even if by some miracle I don’t get myself court martialed and booted out of Starfleet over this fiasco, the incident will become part of my official service record. Everyone will know the truth.” Julian spoke the final bit in a whisper that was filled with such intense loathing and emotional pain, that his fists balled at his sides and began to tremble.

 

“I know what happened today exposed you, and I also know you’re not the type of person to deny the truth. You admitted it, didn’t you.” Gaven asserted.

 

“If I had tried to lie it would have only made everything worse.” Julian muttered. “I do have some dignity, you know. I’m not a complete fraud.”

 

“You’re not a fraud, Julian.”

 

I don't want to talk about it. I can't talk about this-” Julian pointed and then turned away from Gaven beginning to pace.

 

“Julian, don’t do this to yourself.” Gaven protested.

 

“You know what’s going to happen, don’t you?” Julian suddenly demanded manically. “Louis Zimmerman is going to file a report saying that, I, the illustrious Doctor Bashir, is unsuitable for computer modeling because of his suspected genetically enhanced background. Once it hits Starfleet Medical, that’s it. They’ll have no choice but to launch a formal investigation and dismiss me from service.”

” You don’t know for sure that’s how it will play out. You’re not friendless or completely to blame for what you are. You’re...“ Julian cut him off.

 

“I’m what they call ‘Unnatural’ as in; Not Found In Nature. The court of public opinion however isn’t nearly so kind or scientifically correct. I’ll in essence be labeled a freak...A monster, even. A creature to be suppressed, not encouraged or supported. None of the good I’ve done will matter now, none of the good I could still do…” Finally, Julian began to lose his composure as lost tears began to well in his eyes.

 

For someone who had just been through life threatening surgery and had only just woken up Gaven moved remarkably fast as he swiftly came at Julian and pulled him into the tightest hug he could manage without seriously hurting himself.

 

“I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry.” He consoled into Julian's ear twisting them rhythmically side to side. “You’re not a monster, Julian. What happened to you wasn’t your fault and what’s happening to you now isn’t fair. The things you’ve accomplished do matter. They matter to me and to your friends and to the countless others you’ve helped, protected, and saved. It’s alright not to be strong, but it’s not alright for you to give up. Not on yourself.”

 

“I just want to pretend this isn’t happening.” Julian said gutturally, too vulnerable now to pull out of Gaven’s grip.

 

“I know. We’re going to figure this out. I promise.” Being taller, Gaven cradle Julian’s face into his neck as they swayed letting the younger man freely weep.

 

Gaven smoothed down Julian’s disorganized hair, compartmentalizing his own fatigue and remorse to focus on soothing the other man. He focused on their mutual breathing syncing his own with Julian’s to calm them both. When he felt Julian begin to settle and regain some control over himself, Gaven reluctantly loosened his grip.

 

“Julian, I’m sorry but I don’t have a lot of time. Fisk threatened to set Odo on me if I didn’t return to the infirmary in a timely manner. I know you don’t want to talk about yourself right now, but I am willing to listen and to give you as much time as I can.” Gaven eased Julian away from him now, knowing that if they were going to talk further Gaven needed to sit down.

 

Julian scoffed at his own insensitivity to the state of the other man’s health and helped him over to the sofa.

 

“Jeremiah would do it to. And I wouldn’t blame him. You do have one Hell of a constitution.” Julian remarked, rubbing the dampness from his face and eyes with the butt of his hand.

 

“What can I say, I’m an alien.” He shrugged.

 

“It’s ironic that this all happened. Here I was planning to confess to you earlier and instead you're the one reassuring me about who I am. Did you always know or did our extensive time together after the attack tip you off?” Julian asked.

 

“I’ve had my suspicions for a long time. You’re a good actor Julian, but you’re not THAT good. Ultimately that’s all they were until you were attacked. You and I both know that the assault you experienced should have killed you and in short order. When I actually got you stabilized and started looking at your medical records it became more obvious.” Gaven admitted.

 

Julian nodded.

 

“What was that you said the day you left for Gulba IV?” Julian asked rhetorically. “About making it all look a lot harder to pull off than it actually is for someone like you or I? I knew you suspected me back then.”

 

“Does it matter now?” Gaven asked gently.

 

“No. You’ve kept my secret all this time and I’m grateful to you.” Julian said quietly.

 

“I should probably tell you something.” Gaven said after a long pause. “Earlier today, your mother came looking for you in the infirmary and we happened to meet.”

 

Julian had been silently enjoying sitting there with Gaven, until the mentioning of his mother caused him to stiffen as new dread invaded his mind.

 

“Oh? And what exactly did the two of you have to say to each other?” Julian was afraid to hear the answer just then.

 

“Well, we mostly talked about you. Some of the important things you’d done and were still doing. How important you were to people here and how important you’ve become to me. I told her that I knew you’d been Augmented and then...She proceeded to explain to me how it came about. The rationale that led up to they’re decision to bring you to Adigeon Prime.” Gaven confessed.

 

“She what?” Julian’s voice caught in the back of his throat as it nearly closed on him as a painful expression slid over his features. “Why...Why would she tell you about that? She doesn’t even know you.”

 

“Sometimes all we want is for someone to listen to our side of the story. Right or wrong. Your mother is an intelligent, bright, and caring woman. Her love for you and your father is profound. I see much of you in her. You have all the better qualities of both your parents mixed in with your own. I think she realized she could open up to me and tell the truth without fear of judgement.” Gaven observed.

 

“Well maybe you’ve missed your calling then and don’t compare me to them like that if you please. I’m sure she painted quite a convincing picture for you. All love and pity. How convenient of her as a mother. I suppose she left out how ashamed her and my father were to have...have a damaged child. A little boy who was supposed to carry on the honorable family name but who couldn’t read or spell it correctly. I’m sure she left out what a burden I was on the family to care for and educate and how it was my fault for being so stupid. You know when they took me away to Adigeon Prime they didn’t even tell me why? They took me there and left me. Swapping me out like a defective piece of equipment. It wasn’t exactly painless you know. As my IQ and cognitive abilities grew, I became more and more aware. It was the awareness that was the most painful of all and still is.” Julian vented venomously.

 

Gaven listened calmy knowing it was important for Julian to be able to get it all out. That this was the beginning of his healing process.

 

“They were never ashamed of you Julian; they were only ashamed of themselves. What they did was wrong, and they know that. They know that they can never take what they did to you back and they know that in trying to liberate you for your own sake they lost you in the process. Who is to say who is more to blame in it all? It was misguided at best, criminal at worst. They understand the price you’ve had to pay. The price you’re still paying for their poor decisions.” Gaven mused gently.

 

“So, they’ve won you over. Have they? I suppose father wasn’t too far behind mother. They rarely go anywhere alone. Well, I’m glad they were able to unburden themselves before they left. At least some of us might enjoy a little peace of mind out of this despicable business.” Julian snorted lightly; it was almost as if Gaven was defending his parents subtly.

 

“I don’t know. They’re connected to you. A part of me can’t help but like them. I certainly wouldn’t call them bad people compared to many. I know you have an extremely complicated relationship with them Julian and I know from personal experience how it’s hard to love people who you also feel have betrayed you. One feeling doesn’t exactly cancel out the other. You’re not a bad person for still loving them despite their actions. And you haven’t been a bad person either to protect them all this time. But Julian, at some point you have to let blame fall on the proper shoulders. You have to let people face their own consequences for the choices they’ve made. You can’t live for other people without forfeiting up your own life in the process. No matter what they’ve done and why, I can’t believe your parents want that for you.” Time was growing short, and Gaven wanted to hit his point home.

 

“Really? They’ve been complicit in the cover up of my Augmentations for decades. They could have come forward any time, but they didn’t. They just expected me to go along covering for them. What they want for me is to help make them look better than they really are. But it doesn’t matter now. They’ve gone. I saw their names on the earlier transport manifest. Now all that’s left for me to do is face the music. If I want it done as cleanly as possible then the best thing I can do is simply resign. That would at least avoid a dramatic trial. Either way, this is the end of it. It ends here with me. I’m sure I’ll find a way to carry on. Somehow. You should leave. I really would like to be alone for a while before I go to the Captain with my resignation from Starfleet. It’s only a matter of time now and I’m not done packing.”

 

~@~

 

Ultimately, Gaven had no choice but to leave. Both men knew Jeremiah wasn’t a man to be trifled with no matter how casual his threats and Gaven really did need to be in the infirmary at least for another day or two.

 

When he arrived back, both Jeremiah and Benjamin were waiting for him.

 

“Just the man I wanted to see.” Gaven muttered.

 

“Yeah, how about you see him lying down for now.” Fisk muttered grabbing Gaven under the shoulder just before his legs gave out. “Upsidaisy. Captain, if you’d be so kind.”

 

With Benjamin’s help Gaven was ushered back into his recovery room and put to right before Fisk would let him continue their conversation.

 

“Well Doctor, how did it go?” Benjamin asked seriously referring to Julian.

 

Gaven exhaled and shook his head. “He’s in bad shape. He’s got himself convinced his life in Starfleet is over. I don’t know if he’s even going to try and defend himself. Given everything that’s happened to him recently, I’m just not convinced he has the strength. Captain, is the probable outcome really that damning?”

 

“I don’t know yet.” Benjamin said honestly. “Someone does need to be held accountable, but it comes down to a question of who should be accountable for what. There’s no evidence that I can find that Doctor Bashir knew about the Augmentation before he was admitted into Starfleet Medical. That’s going to be sticking point number one and I don’t know that there’s any way to prove one way or another what the truth is.”

 

“The second sticking point is why he didn’t come forward once he did know. Age of consent in Starfleet is seventeen. But I think we could safely argue that being so young and knowing the larger consequence to both himself and his family, Julian’s state of duress was enough to make him believe he had to conceal the truth from the authorities and from everyone else around him.” Jeremiah offered.

 

“It helps matters that’s his service record has been so exemplary.” Benjamin added.

 

“And that this is considered a time of war. The bare truth is Starfleet has directly and consistently benefited from Julian Bashir's contributions both during his time at the academy and from his work and placement on Deep Space Nine. This station is strategically important to just about everyone involved in the Dominion Conflict. The necessity of his skills in the field and current environment may be enough to mandate that an exception be made.” Fisk theorized.

 

“Unbelievable.” Gaven scoffed. “So, you're telling me that as long as it’s convenient and advantageous to Starfleet to keep Julian where he is doing what he’s doing, they’d just be willing to overlook all the rest?”

 

“That’s not an impossible outcome.” Benjamin confirmed.

 

Gaven pressed his lips. “You know, although I really like most of you as individuals. I must admit, Starfleet continues to elude my complete sympathies. No offense and with all due respect.”

 

“None taken.” Both Ben and Jeremiah said in unison understanding what he meant by the remark.

 

Just then Dax broke in on the Com.

 

“I’m sorry to disturb you Captain but the Bashirs are here demanding to speak with you and I’ve got Rear Admiral Bennett, Judge Advocate General, long distance waiting to conference with you. Ben what’s going on around here?” Dax asked suspiciously.

 

“I’ll debrief my team of the situation later. Tell them all I’m on my way.” At that Benjamin said his goodbyes and excused himself.

 

“Well,” Fisk observed. “Let the games begin. You wouldn’t happen to be responsible for the Bashirs suddenly wanting to talk, would you?”

 

“Don’t look at me, I’m just a Doctor.” Gaven muttered, parroting back one of Fisk’s famous phrases which neither really confirmed nor denied the level of his involvement.

 

~@~

 

“Captain, really really must have a word with you. It’s about Jules.” Richard Bashir insisted dramatically when Benjamin approached them in the waiting area outside his conference room.

 

“Of course, both of you please come with me.” Benjamin ushered them all into his private conference room and shut the door. “First and foremost, I must warn you both that I will be required to disclose anything you tell me from this point on to Starfleet. So, I warn you to be mindful of what you decide to say. Now what can I do for you?”

 

Richard and his wife exchanged looks and quietly negotiated between each other before Richard step forward. “Whatever it is you’ve heard about our Jules...Our Julian, is true. Also, it is my fault. Julian shouldn’t be held accountable for something we made him do.”

 

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific about what you’re talking about, Mr. Bashir. For the record.” Benjamin replied quietly.

 

A look of frustration passed over Richard Bashir’s features. “Look at this. I come in here to confess and the man acts like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”

 

“Richard, please.” Amsha coaxed. “Captain, we have spoken with our son as well as Doctor Ore about the incident that happened this morning. We know what our son is being accused of. We don’t want our child to suffer any more than he already has because of us. Because of our weakness.”

 

“I see.” Benjamin replied. “I’ve taken the liberty of conducting my own investigation into the situation and I’ve contacted representatives of Starfleet to help us maneuver through this issue. Admiral Bennet is on the line now waiting to talk to me. With your consent I would like to include him in our conversation.”

 

Reluctantly the Bashirs agreed.

 

A moment later a projection of Admiral Bennett appeared in a cascade of blue light from the dimmed conference room.

 

“Admiral Bennett, May I introduce you to Mr. Richard Bashir and his wife Amsha Bashir. Doctor Julian Bashir’s parents. Richard, Amsha; this is Rear Admiral Bennett, Judge Advocate General.”” Benjamin said making the introductions.

 

“Good evening. Let me first explain to everyone what my role is here. A report has been submitted to me preemptively by the Captain here regarding an accusation that’s been put forth involving Doctor Julian Bashir and the possibility that he is an illegally and genetically Augmented human who has been unlawfully practicing medicine in the capacity of a Starfleet medical officer. I’ve taken a statement from the accusing party and reviewed the circumstances in which the accusation was brought forward. At this point, it is my duty to continue to assess this case of which I have been empowered by the Judge Advocate Corps to make a formal judgement on. I am prepared at this time to hear additional statements all of which will be used to determine Doctor Bashir’s guilt or innocence.” The Admiral explained.

 

“We understand.” Amsha nodded along with her husband. “What do you need to know?”

 

“First and foremost, did you or someone else associated with you knowingly and illegally have your child genetically altered?”

 

“Yes. We touched upon family connections we had on Adigeon Prime and just before Jules seventh birthday took him there for genetic treatments. It was our intention never to tell Julian about it. He seemed to have little to no memories associated with who he was before the accelerated critical neural pathway formation therapies were done. Although we had no way of knowing how successful the treatments would be, we admit we knew it was illegal and that we tried to hide what we had done after the fact.” Amsha confessed.

 

“It was my fault that Jules found out about it. I love my son, Admiral, and despite what everyone probably thinks I was proud of him always. Not just after he came back from Adigeon Prime but since the day he was born.” Richard said proudly and passionately.

 

“And yet you still allowed him to be Augmented.” Benjamin pointed out.

 

“Yes. Yes, we did. We had been to dozens of specialists over the years. I had to sit there from the time Julian was two years old and have these doctors tell me my son would never advance beyond an elementary remedial level. I was told I had to accept that he would always struggle, always be less than his peers. I admit I couldn’t accept that. That I wanted something better for my boy than that.” Richard said defensively.

 

This was the hardest lie Richard Bashir had ever had to tell. In order to protect his wife and son he made it sound as if he had not been able to accept who Julian had been. Nothing was farther from the truth. Richard had loved his son exactly as he was. The idea of raising a child that was different had never seemed daunting to him. But then again, Richard had not been the one primarily raising Julian when he was a young boy. Amsha had. It had been her that could not accept the reality of how things were because she knew they had it within their power to change their son’s circumstances. Richard Bashir had not been able to stand against his beloved wife when she’d proposed they go back to Adigeon Prime and use whatever leverage they had left to have Julian Augmented.

 

“We knew the risks involved. We had heard the horror stories of children being damaged further by their genetic Augmentations. But the Doctors on Adigeon Prime were different. They explained to us why these other failed attempts were so common and showed us many examples of their own successes in the genetic Augmentation sciences. All we wanted was a son who would have the benefit of a normal average life. We didn’t realize how far the Adigeons would go and by the time it became evident it was too late. After we brought him back home, he was a different person and suddenly I wasn’t afraid for my son in the same way I had been before. Jules was always a happy child but after the Augmentations I knew he was now able to experience and participate in the world in a way he never had been able to before. I can’t regret giving that to my son even if it meant losing him in the process. Please don’t punish him for what we turned him into.” Amsha pleaded.

 

“You want to know the truth? See it for yourself. It’s all here. Every test. Every examination report, every significant personal moment from the time Jules was born until we took him away.” Richard reached around his neck and removed a decorative necklace he wore under his clothes revealing it to be an encrypted data file. “I kept this with me after Jules found it and confronted me with it. I had planned to come home that day to celebrate my little boy’s acceptance into Starfleet Medical, and instead I was confronted with an angry young man keen on disowning me as a father. I love my son Admiral, even knowing how much he hates me, I love him. That is not a crime.”

 

Richard passed the data file over to Benjamin who, after Richard unlocked it, made a duplicate to be transmitted to the Admiral for review.

 

“In light of this additional evidence I need to take a few hours to review and assess its contents. But I would like to take this time to remark on some things first. We in the Federation are not in the habit of punishing children for the sins of their loved ones. If what you say is true, then it will be factored into my final judgment regarding this case. What is known at this time is that you and your wife knowing and criminally had your minor son genetically enhanced. You have admitted to this openly. Had you stayed on Adigeon Prime, a neutral planet outside of Federation jurisdiction, you may have been able to escape prosecution. As for, Doctor Julian Bashir, Starfleet does actively acknowledge his many positive contributions to Starfleet and the Federation both past and present and we are not unsympathetic to the difficult position he has found himself in all these years. However, the fact remains that at current it is against Starfleet regulation for any Augmented human to be a service member in any field, but particularly in the field of medicine. As of now you are to be held in the care of Captain Benjamin Sisko until a determination of consequence can be made. I appreciate your full and complete cooperation. I shall re-convene this meeting in exactly two hours’ time. Admiral Bennett, Out.”  At that, the Admiral’s image faded, and the light came up in the room.

 

“I knew it! Guh, we are sunk for sure. We come to you in good faith that coming forward will save our son and instead we just hand over the ammo necessary to shoot him with.” Richard Bashir lamented grabbing at his ears and sinking further down into his chair.

 

“Captain, what does this mean? Do you think they will decide to court martial my Julian? Isn’t there anything else we can do? Please. I beg you we can’t let this happen to him. I know Julian wouldn’t want us to drag this through the courts but there must be some way we can appeal to them?” Amsha pleaded.

 

“I admit it’s not looking good. I can’t promise either of you anything, but I need you both to hold on. This isn’t over yet. Julian may not be capable of fighting for himself but luckily he may not have to.” Benjamin said cryptically.

 

Chapter 25: Friends and Allies

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Five: Friends and Allies

 

“What do you mean, Julian has been accused of being a genetically enhanced human?” Dax demanded her eyes going buggy as she sat with the senior staff in their emergency briefing.

 

“It’s that Zimmerman bloke, isn't it? Everyone with eyes can see he’s been gunning for Julian since he got here.” Miles remarked, as he tried to process what they were being told.

 

“How did the situation come about, Captain and is it true?” Odo asked in his typical gravely and inquisitive tone.

 

“Of course it’s not true. Zimmerman’s just trying to make waves. He’s angry that Starfleet has taken over his cherished hologram project and that Julian was considered for the LMH program model and not him. He’s got to be one of the pettiest wormy men I’ve ever met.” Miles emphasized with his arms crossed.

 

“I’m sorry to say, but there’s just no getting around it. The accusation is true. Doctor Bashir and his parents have confirmed it. Julian Bashir was exposed this morning when a medical emergency involving Doctor Ore arose and Julian intervened in order to perform emergency surgery to save his life.” Benjamin explained.

 

“What?” Kira asked. “Is Doctor Ore alright?”

 

“Yes. Doctor Bashir was able to use his advanced ability to succeed where even the EMH program would have failed.” Benjamin said.

 

“So, for saving Gaven’s life Julian is being rewarded by having his career jeopardized. Well, how do you like that?” Jadzia criticized.

 

“Genetic Augmentation is illegal. I like Doctor Bashir, but if he knew and concealed it all this time then he has brought considerable dishonor onto himself.” Worf could feel his love’s death glare from across the table but to his credit managed to ignore it.

 

“What are we talking here? I can’t say I’m awfully familiar with this aspect of Starfleet regulation.” Kira said wrinkling her nose.

 

“I’m sure most of you are familiar with the Eugenics Wars of the 20th century on Earth.” Benjamin offered.

 

“If I remember correctly most all forms of Genetic Engineering were banned by the 22nd Century. Even when it came to research that had the potential to cure major life-threatening illnesses.” Dax provided.

 

“Well that sounds extreme.” Kira remarked. “Everything was banned?”

 

Dax nodded.

 

“The general fear during that era was that if we didn’t ban the technology, we’d get more Khans as a result and our society would ultimately destabilize. There were well known critics of this philosophy, one of the most notable being the notorious geneticist doctor Erik Soong. His perspective was that it was Humanity’s inability to use the technology responsibly and not the fault of the technology itself.”  Benjamin explained.

 

“The federation lightened up a bit in the 24th Century and started allowing limited genetic Augmentation in cases of certain genetic medical conditions.  But by that time, the Federation drew a line when it came to Augmented service members in Starfleet. Specifically, in roles like medicine which required a higher level of moral and ethical faith and responsible authority. There were some notable exceptions but if memory serves most of those cases ended badly for everyone involved. Nowadays, the standard is still that medical personnel can only utilize genetic therapies in cases where the genetic defects present could seriously handicap or kill the individual. Most legal corrections are done in vitro these days.” Dax went on.

 

“What’s the worst-case scenario here, Captain?” Odo asked.

 

“Simple. Julian Bashir will face a formal court martial and be dishonorably discharged from service. He’d also likely have his medical license revoked.” Benjamin warned.

 

“Do you really think that they’d go that far?” Kira asked, her tone full of alarm and confusion.

 

“It certainly is within their power.” Benjamin confirmed.

 

“If Julian ever got his medical license stripped it would destroy him. His whole life is built around being a doctor. It’s not just his profession, it’s his identity.” Dax protested.

 

“What can we do if anything?” Worf asked.

 

“What if we leverage Julian’s work with Doctor Ore on the Dominion defense initiatives? No one can argue that it hasn’t been Julian’s pet project all this time and if Starfleet is so worried about how brilliant he is then can they really afford to lose his contributions now?” Kira strategized.

 

“What’s Julian got to say about any of this? He should be here briefing with us. I don’t care if he’s still on medical leave or not. This is his life everyone is playing at.” Miles protested.

 

“I’ve already spoken to him and he seems...Resigned to the realities of his situation. He doesn’t want to fight with Starfleet about it. If he’s going to be dismissed, he would rather go quietly and graciously, and I can’t say I blame him.” Benjamin revealed.

 

“What you mean to say is that he’s bloody well committed to feeling sorry for himself and just letting this all happen to him. Like he deserves it or something. Well let me tell you all something, Julian Bashir is one of the most noble and forthright people I’ve ever known. To even suggest he’s at risk of being in the same category as someone like a tyrannical nut job dictator like Khan Noonien Singh is an insult and a joke. Besides being a little big for his britches sometimes and a little too charming for his own good, Julian doesn’t have it in him to abuse his abilities such as they may be. His personal and professional ethics are too strong, and Starfleet should KNOW that about him by now. I don’t care what Starfleet regulations say, they’re wrong to do this to him.” Miles protested passionately.

 

“Kira’s right. Making a case that Julian is just too valuable to lose may be the only option we have. Even with all the work that’s already been done, I’m just not convinced we can finish out the poly inoculation research without him.” Dax said sincerely.

 

“That’s a good point. We can’t complete the research without him.” A light suddenly came into Benjamin’s eyes as an idea struck him.

 

The briefing ended abruptly after that. Odo was charged with securing Julian’s parents under house arrest, while Kira and Dax were asked to get an official read on how far along the inoculation project really was. Everyone else was excused and given strict orders not to confront Julian about the situation until it was concluded.

 

After everyone had departed, Benjamin headed back to the infirmary to see Gaven.

 

Not surprisingly Gaven was asleep when Benjamin arrived and had been sleeping most of the last few hours. At this point it was the best thing for him, but when Benjamin stepped into the recovery room Gaven stirred.

 

“Hello again, Captain. What...What can I do for you?” Gaven asked in a groggy fashion.

 

“I’m sorry to have to disturb you, Doctor; but this couldn’t wait. You may be the best chance we have at saving Julian Bashir’s career.” Benjamin said, settling into a stool so he could go over his idea.

 

~@~

 

Precisely two hours after the initial conference with Admiral Bennett, Benjamin was back in his conference room with a wheelchair bound Gaven waiting with him when Bennett came back through the Channel.

 

“Welcome back, Admiral. Might I formally introduce to you Doctor Gaven Ore of Oum. As you know Doctor Ore has been working with us to help create new and secret defense initiatives against the Dominion and their forces.” Benjamin remarked.

 

“Yes. I am aware of who Doctor Ore is and the sensitive nature of his position on Deep Space Nine.” Bennett replied evenly.

 

“The Captain has told me, Sir, that you are hearing statements regarding Julian Bashir’s case and given my unique working relationship with him I would like to take this opportunity to offer my contribution to his situation. Presently, Captain Sisko will send you a complete transcript of a conversation that occurred between myself and Amsha Bashir. As you probably know from my dossier, I have many skills one of which being a eidetic memory and perfect recall. I think you will find that this conversation confirms other details that have come accessible and that are relevant to this case.” Gaven said patiently, allowing time for Bennett to skim through the transcript.

 

“I see.” Bennett said. “Was there something else you planned to say to me Doctor Ore?”

 

“Yes, as a matter of fact. In the months I’ve been on this station I’ve had the benefit of seeing up close and personally how Starfleet tends to conduct itself. Being an alien not affiliated until recently with the Federations policies, procedures, and standards you might imagine that being here and working specifically with Starfleet’s people has been something of an education. I’ve also had time to see firsthand what it is the Federation, and its many allies are up against when it comes to the Dominion. To summarize for you, Admiral. You need all the help you can get. A fact I know you are intimately aware of. The Federation is losing their fight against the Dominion, but they haven’t won yet. It’s directly because of dedicated officers like Doctor Bashir and Captain Sisko here that this station has managed to hold its ground as well as it has. I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job, Sir, but I guarantee you if you break up the team that’s developed here, you’ll regret it the rest of your career if not the rest of your life. The Dominion is coming for you all and that is a fact.” Gaven said.

 

Admiral Bennett narrowed his eyes at Gaven and glanced at Sisko.

 

“Don’t look at me, Admiral. You DID say you were taking relevant statements.” Benjamin remarked.

 

Bennett looked back at Gaven.

 

 “No person is above the law, Doctor Ore. I understand this is war time and I am sympathetic to how integral Doctor Bashir has been to the initiatives being formulated on Deep Space Nine. The purpose of this investigation is not to criminalize Doctor Bashir for what has been done to him but to discern who is responsible for the circumstances around his genetic Augmentation.” Bennett scolded.

 

“You have people willing to take that responsibility. The Bashirs have confessed to what has been done and laid plain their reasons for doing so. They are prepared to be held accountable. So, let them be accountable. Julian Bashir is not to blame and if anyone is responsible for him choosing to omit the truth of his genetic status, then I suggest Sir that you take a good long look in the mirror. I’ve seen Julian Bashir’s service record. Among other things he’s accomplished specifically against the Dominion, he was able to create an anti-viral treatment against the Blight that has possibly saved an entire species from gradually being obliterated by a Dominion crafted disease. He’s worked with the Jem’Hadar trying to break them of their dependence on Ketracel-White. More recently he’s helped save numerous lives on this station including my own on a few different occasions and despite the horrific attack perpetrated against him by a changeling interloper he has continued to maintain his ethical and professional objectivity. Julian Bashir has repeatedly gone above and beyond to protect Starfleet interests, and now you’re telling me that you might possibly let fear get in the way of protecting him?” Gaven argued.

 

“Allow me to make my position clear.” Gaven said at length, forcing himself out of the wheelchair Doctor Fisk had insisted he remain in to stand before the visage of the admiral and slam his point home. “If Starfleet doesn't show an appropriate level of leniency and circumstantial consideration in this case then I will have no choice but to retract my own cooperation regarding Federation interests. Bottom line, Doctor Julian Bashir and I are a package deal. I won’t continue to develop my research without him.”

 

A long silence filled the space as the Admiral and Gaven stared each other down. At length, Bennet finally sighed. “I need to conference with some people before I can make it official but if Mr. and Mrs. Bashir are willing to accept responsibility for their role in the Augmentation of their son Doctor Julian Bashir then I think that will prove to be sufficient. Provided of course that Doctor Ore is also willing to resume his intellectual contributions as a guest and contributing expert on Deep Space Nine.”

 

“I agree.” Gaven remarked.

 

“I’ve been given license to speak for the Bashirs as well. They are also willing to agree to your terms.” Benjamin supplied.

 

“Very well, gentleman. Then we will reconvene in the morning with my final judgement. Admiral Bennett, Out.”

 

Once the Admiral was gone, Benjamin helped Gaven ease back down into his wheelchair.

 

“That was a very brave thing you just did.” Benjamin remarked. “You don’t get much higher than Bennett when it comes to Starfleet Command.”

 

“Do you think we did it? Will he hold to his own conditions?” Gaven asked, wincing as he adjusted himself.

 

“Bennett is a straightlaced type. He knows the current laws overseeing the stipulations about human Augments is outdated and as you so correctly pointed out this is a time of war. Frankly, in the grander picture of human events I don’t think anyone will really care about Julian Bashir’s genetic status as long as we win against the Dominion. And, frankly, I’m glad to have an excuse to keep you both with us and on our side. If he says how it’s going to be done, then that’s the way it’ll be.” Benjamin reassured him.

 

“Good. Captain, I need to ask a favor of you.” Gaven said after a moment of consideration.

 

“What is it Doctor?” Benjamin asked.

 

“I don’t want Julian to know my role in this. Let him think it was all Bennett’s idea. I’ve meddled enough in his life recently. This is something he doesn’t need to know about.” Gaven requested.

 

“As you like, Doctor. You have my word.” Benjamin agreed.

 

~@~

 

Early the next morning Julian awoke feeling more miserable than he’d felt since the attack on his life. Now that his packing was done and his parents were safely off the station, Julian prepared himself for what he was about to do. He was going to march it Benjamin Sisko’s office and humbly resign his commission from Starfleet. While it was one of the most depressing thoughts of his life, Julian knew he had to do it. For his own sense of dignity.

 

Dressed in monochrome gray that matched his mood, Julian eventually took a deep breath and headed for the Captain’s office. To his mild surprise though when he arrived, he was promptly redirected to the officer’s conference room where Benjamin was actively speaking to someone.

 

Upon his approach he was immediately encouraged to join Benjamin and the other assembled figures.

 

“Please come in, Doctor. We were just talking about you.” Benjamin said hastily.

 

As Julian turned to see who else was in the room his breath caught when he saw both is parents standing a foot or two in front of Benjamin.

 

“Mother...Father. What, what are you both still doing here on the station? Captain? What the Hell is going on here?” Julian muttered in disbelief.

 

“Jules, please. Stay calm. It’s all right.” His mother interjected. “The Captain will explain.”

 

“Admiral. Allow me to introduce Doctor Julian Bashir. Doctor, this is Rear Admiral Bennett, Judge Advocate General.” Benjamin said making swift introductions between Julian and the projection of Bennet.

 

Julian felt his mouth go dry as his head began to spin but to his credit, he held it together. “Admiral.”

 

“Doctor.” The distinguished projected man said nodding to him.

 

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me, but really, what the Hell is going on here?” Julian asked nervously.

 

“Steady, Doctor.” Benjamin encouraged him, stepping closer. “Your parents came to see me yesterday. They explained the situation about your genetic background. I have since contacted Admiral Bennett to relay their information.”

 

“We’ve just confirmed an agreement which will allow you to retain both your commission and your medical practice.” The Admiral said satisfactorily.

 

“But...How?” Julian muttered, in a haunted voice.

 

At the sound of his distress both Amsha and Richard half turned to peer at their son.

 

“I’m going to prison.” Richard said bluntly with a shrug.

 

“What?!?” Julian proclaimed clearly gob smacked at this announcement. “Father, no…”

 

“Ten years. With good behavior Admiral Bennet thinks I’ll have a good chance at getting my sentence significantly reduced after the first two years. It’s a minimum-security penal colony in New Zealand. It’ll practically be like going into early retirement.”

 

“No. You can’t do this!” Julian protested looking from his father to Admiral Bennett.

 

“It was your father’s suggestion, Doctor. And, frankly, it’s more than lenient. I can guarantee he won't serve more than five years in the grand scheme of things.” Bennett reasoned. “He pleads guilty to illegal genetic engineering and, in exchange, your mother will be given immunity and you’ll be allowed to stay in the service.”

 

“Absolutely not. How dare you leverage my parents against each other like that. I…” Julian was cut off by the tired voice of his father.

 

“Please Jules, let me do this for you and for your mother. Julian,” His father emphasized his son’s preferred name, catching his rapt attention. “Nobody coerced us into this. This was my decision, and your mother agrees. I’m the one who put up the money to be able to send you to Adigeon Prime. I knowingly took you there and allowed the Doctors to change you. I see now that it’s time I and your mother take responsibility for our actions and since the money trail starts and ends with me, it’s right and good that I take on the bigger burden between us.”

“Julian, please. Let your father do this for you. Let him make this final sacrifice, for love.” Amsha implored him placing her hands on both her husband and her son’s back linking them all together in a symbolic manner that they hadn’t enjoyed since Julian was a small child.

 

“But...A minimum of five years? Ten respectively? I’m sorry, but isn’t that a bit harsh even for what they’ve done?” Julian appealed moving toward Bennett.

 

“I don’t think so.” Bennett maintained firmly. “Two-hundred years ago we tried to improve the species through DNA resequencing. And what did we get for our trouble? The Eugenics Wars. For every Julian Bashir that can be created there is a Kahn Singh waiting in the wings--a superhuman--whose ambition and thirst for power have been enhanced along with his intellect. The law against genetic engineering is meant to provide a firewall against such men, and it’s my job to keep that firewall intact. With that said, I am willing to concede the limitation of the current mandates. Mandates that are not designed to accommodate for a threat such as the Dominion. The bottom line is that I can concede that right here, right now, you are needed Doctor. We can’t afford to lose those like yourself who have shown such exemplary dedication to the greater good. Mark me when I say, that if things were different, I don’t know that this opportunity would be afforded to you or your father. But nevertheless, I’ve made my offer.”

 

At that Bennett looked back at Richard. “Do you accept?”

 

Looking from his son and wife back to Bennett, Richard Bashir cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “Yes.”

 

A gleam of professional satisfaction once again came over Bennett’s features. “Then report to my office at Starfleet Headquarters once you arrive on Earth.”

 

At that, Richard Bashir nodded at Bennett and they all watched him disappear.

 

Julian instantly pressed his hands to his face inhaling deeply to suppress his emotions as he felt Benjamin swiftly come up behind him before he headed for the exit.

 

“Take your time.” Benjamin said softly before he left the trio to grieve and process what had just transpired.

 

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Julian said, sniffling as both his parents came to heavily embrace him.

 

“Julian, my love. It’s for the best.” His mother reassured him pressing her lips to his temple.

 

“You take this now boy, and you keep it safe.” Richard pressed the data file he’d been carrying around since their falling out and pressed it into his palm. “It’s yours now. Your truth.”

 

“Now, Julian. We need you to be strong. No more tears for your father and me. This is not the end. This is just the beginning. Whatever happens now you no longer need to fear being who and what you are. That person is and always was there. Here inside you. Underneath everything else.” His mother said laughing through her tears as she patted him affectionately on the chest.

“We love you, Son. And we promise to do right by you. Now you go and do right by us. Your life is what you make of it now. Go on. The Captain has arranged for us to leave on the evening transport. We hope you will be there to see us off.” His father muttered, trying hard to contain his own emotions.

 

It was in this moment that Julian saw what Gaven had seen in his parents. The undeniable link that existed between him and them. It was a link that had always been there and could never be removed or destroyed.

 

“I see now, Gaven. I see them, in me.” He whispered to himself hugging them close once more and feeling a sense of connection and gratitude he never imagined was possible.

 

~@~

 

A handful of hours later, Julian found himself escorting his parents to the docking bay. For the first time since Julian had been a teenager the threesome sat and had dinner in peace. Casually sharing amusing family stories and gentle easy banter. It was as if they’d all been transported back to a more innocent time before the weight of the truth had fragmented their family life. None of them talked about or alluded to what had transpired until it was time to separate and go their separate ways.

 

“Good-bye, Julian.” Amsha said serenely as she embraced her son for a final time in the docking bay.

 

“Good-bye, Mother.” Julian replied peacefully as he gripped her arms before he let her go.

 

“Well…” Richard interjected from the higher platform. “I guess I’ll see you in a couple of years.”

 

Julian smiled softly and stepped up onto the platform to join his father, equalizing them once more. “Oh, I’m sure they have, huh...Visiting hours at your facility. Maybe I could, um…”

 

Richard cut his son off by compassionately taking him by the upper arms and squeezing in a comforting gesture.

 

“That would be most welcome.” He said pulling his son into an only slightly awkward hug as he pecked him on the cheek and offered his open arm to his beloved wife, pulling her up gently with him on the platform so they could walk arm in arm.

 

“Father,” Julian called after him suddenly, composed tears visible in his eyes. “Thank you.”

 

Smiling at his son and in typical Richard fashion, Julian’s father replied with a pithy joke though it lacked all the arrogance and pretense it would have had in the past. “Here, just think--I may usher in a new renaissance in landscape architecture. I’ll certainly have time to work on my designs.”

 

Julian smiled at his father’s cheekiness. It had always been one of Julian’s favorite traits and one of the many more likeable ones his father possessed.

 

At that, Julian’s parents turned away from him and boarded the transport; holding hands like childhood lovers as Julian left them to head home.

 

Just as he was departing, Leeta and Doctor Zimmerman were just arriving. Both had unhappy looks on their faces and had clearly been arguing all the way there. “Louis Zimmerman, if you send that report about Julian that you keep going on about, I swear on the Prophets I’ll never speak to you again. Julian is my friend and one of the best people I know. I can’t believe you accused him like that without any evidence!”

 

“But honeybunch you don’t understand, I was there. There was no doubt that he’s an Augment.” Zimmerman protested.

 

“Guh, for someone who's supposed to be so smart your pretty darn stupid.” Leeta fumed stepping out of the lift. “After this, I don’t know if I like you anymore.”

 

Leeta crossed her arms and began to pout as Zimmerman began to try to justify his position once more. The would be couple however was distracted suddenly by a strange sound coming toward them they couldn’t immediately identify.

 

“Do you hear something?” Zimmerman asked, after a few beats.

 

“What is that?” Leeta wondered, trying to place the sound.

 

Zimmerman looked around. “It’s getting closer.”

 

As it turned out the sound was in fact, Rom. Yelling at them to wait from several yards down the hall.

 

“Rom!” Leeta proclaimed breathlessly when he appeared before them.

 

“Wait.” Rom repeated, this time to her face.

 

“We heard you the first time.” Zimmerman muttered rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Leeta...Don’t. Go.” Rom insisted.

 

“Oh, Rom. Why, not?” Leeta asked stepping down from the platform to peer at him with her large doe like eyes.

 

“I love you.” Rom finally confessed gently. “And I want you to stay.”

 

Leeta’s mouth dropped slowly open as her eyes got big as saucers and glimmered with unspeakable joy. “Oh. I love you too, Rom.”

 

Utterly ignoring Zimmerman now, the unorthodox couple melted into each other’s waiting embrace to kiss.

 

“Hey,” Zimmerman protested. “I’M RIGHT HERE.”

 

“Oh, that’s right. Excuse me for a minute Rom.” Leeta side stepped her love to peer up at Zimmerman. “Yes? And what do you have to say for yourself? Are you going to rip up that report or not?”

 

“What? No. Julian Bashir is no longer qualified for the LHM modeling and that’s final.” Zimmerman muttered.

 

“Oh.” Leeta scowled stopping her foot at him.

 

“Leeta, please. Come with me and lets forget all of...THIS. I can’t believe your picking THAT over me.”

 

“Well, you’re just going to have to get over it, you CREEP.” Leeta muttered.

 

“Huh oh.” Rom stepped aside just in time to avoid getting caught in the middle as Leeta proceeded to sucker punch Louis Zimmerman right in the face. Effectively breaking his nose.

 

“Nobody tells me who I can and can’t date. You’re a real piece of work Louis, I think you need to go back to the Jupiter Station and examine your life choices. Nobody plays with my heart and disrespects my friends. Come on Rom. Let’s get out of here. Hmph.” At that Leeta threaded her arm through Rom’s and led him away.

 

“I just may do that.” Zimmerman muttered as he cupped his bleeding nose and steadied himself. I’ve got to get the Hell off this damn station. These people are insane.”

 

A little later while Rom and Leeta celebrated their new profession of love, Julian was sulking alone near the dart board sipping at his drink and trying to keep a low profile.

 

“Mind if I join you?” A familiar voice muttered a few feet away. “Miles. That might not be any fun. I’m not exactly in a sporting mood and now you know it probably wouldn’t be a fair match anyway.”

 

“Well, anyway I thought you might be here and that you might life some company. I hope you know Julian that none of the stuff that’s going around about you matters to me. I don’t give a golly-gee-damn if you're an Augment. You’re still one of the most decent people I know. All of this, it’ll blow over in a week or so. Old news.” Miles said.

 

“Well chief, I really appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t think I can quite believe everyone is just going to live and let live.” Julian muttered.

 

“And why not? You honestly think you being an Augment is the strangest thing to go on around here right now. Have you seen what’s going on down at the Dabo table? Apparently Rom and Leeta are a thing. It’s all anyone in Quark’s can seem to talk about.” Miles quipped.

 

“I see your point.” Julian conceded. “It really doesn’t bother you, eh?”

 

“No.” Miles confirmed. “If anything, I’m more hurt by the fact that I’ve known you for as long as I have now, and you still felt like you couldn’t tell me.”

 

“Miles, I...I don’t know what to say other than, I’m sorry.” Julian said sincerely.

 

“Yeah well, you owe me a dart game for my pain and suffering. And, if you’re really so worried about it being unfair, we can probably rope Gaven and Dax in for a game of doubles. Once he’s out of the infirmary, that is. It’s gotten around that he’s not all together human you know. So far the reactions seem to be mixed. Personally though, I’m glad it’s out in the open now.” Miles admitted.

 

“It’s going to be a hard road moving forward for him now that it is.” Julian considered, darkly. “Gaven isn’t the type to enjoy much attention.”

 

“Then I guess it’s a good thing he has us to look out for him. Come on. How about just one game? Maybe that coma of yours you were in knocked you off your game.” Miles baited.

 

“Unlikely, but I suppose there’s only one way to find out.” Julian conceded putting down his drink and taking up a few darts to pass to Miles. “Tell you what, if I still win then I’ll let you start me off with a proper handicap next time.”

 

“You’re on, big mouth. Let’s get to it then.” Miles agreed.

 

Chapter 26: Friendly Discussions

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Six: Friendly Discussions

 

For at least a few days on the station everything seemed to calm down. In an interesting turn of events, an official report by Louis Zimmerman against Julian Bashir never seemed to fully manifest and instead word came down the grape vine that the entire LMH project was temporarily being shelved for further review and that, as a result, Julian’s image would no longer be needed for modeling. It seemed people in high places were not particularly happy that Zimmerman’s reactionary actions had exposed one of their assets, namely Gaven, and that one of their best field doctors and scientists had been brought under scrutiny during such a delicate time in the Dominion conflict.

 

For the time being it seemed like everyone was trying to keep a low profile. Julian felt particularly paranoid that his genetic status would have a negative impact on people's impression of him. But for the most part while some people who cared about such details did seem to watch him more closely and occasionally point and whisper when he was out in public places, almost no one seemed keen on confronting him directly. On one hand Julian was grateful, but on the other hand; it quietly perturbed him to think people were talking about him and not engaging him more about it.

 

On the upside, Julian’s many friends tried to show support for him in their own ways. Indicating that none of them thought any less of him for his newly aired status. Then again, Julian tried to remind himself that most of his direct co-workers weren’t human and didn’t understand the stigma of being an Augment the way the other human officers and civilians did. For the hundredth time Julian found himself thanking his lucky stars that he was a frontier doctor and not stuck back on earth where the prejudice would have been far more pronounced. After, meeting a few times with Fisk to talk about his mental state considering everything that had happened it was determined and recommended by Jeremiah that Julian be allowed to come back to work on an extremely limited basis. He was essentially to avoid rounds in the infirmary but was allowed back into a more casual style of uniform so that he could continue his research and development projects. Jeremiah had concluded with Julian, that being back in uniform even if it wasn’t official, helped him stay grounded and feel more in control of himself. Plus, it served as a reminder to everyone else that he was still apart of Starfleet.

 

For Julian’s part he couldn’t help but feel secretly skeptical that he would indeed return to his full duties anytime soon. While he had evaded a court martial, he was still technically an Augment working in a field he should have been barred from. Julian understood the only reason his commission hadn’t been stripped from him was because of the Dominion threat. Assuming they all made it through, he couldn’t help but wonder what his future prospects would really be. The law was still the law. Bennett hadn’t exactly guaranteed him that his genetic status would always be tolerated just because he happened to escape the recent predicament surrounding it. But Fisk had warned him about dwelling on things he could not know. Saying that it was counterproductive to his wellness to hyper focus on problems that were not problems in the moment.

 

For the next few days since his parents’ departure, Julian had bounced between unpacking everything at home, spending time with the O’brien’s who insisted he have dinner with them all week and just try to relax, and a few other light social engagements with his other friends. Julian had also tried to check in on Gaven a few times in the infirmary but found him asleep every time. When he finally swung by one time too many, Jeremiah put his foot down.

 

“Julian, he needs to rest. Go home and don’t come back till next week. Once he’s released you can hover over him all you want on your own time.” Jeremiah had said shooing Julian back out onto the promenade.

 

Before he could protest further, he found himself being intercepted by Elim Garak.

 

“Doctor, facing meeting you here. I was just thinking about inviting you to lunch.” Garak’s melodic voice cut through the space like sudden music. “Practically back in uniform, I see. Do tell me you have some time?”

 

“Hello, Garak. I do have time. Quite alot of it actually.” Julian agreed.

 

“Splendid. Allow me to drop these back at the shop and say meet in Quark’s in fifteen minutes?” Garak offered.

 

Julian agreed and the men parted to reconvene at their favorite table.

 

A about twenty minutes into their impromptu lunch date the conversation between them had run uncharacteristically dry as a look of queer self-consciousness settled onto Julian's face.

 

“Is something wrong?” Garak asked.

 

“What? Oh, no. I just...Those people over at that table...call me paranoid, but I swear they've been staring at me.” Julian confessed. “I think I treated the women awhile back before my, uh, accident. Maybe, I'm just being silly.”

 

“Oh no. They are most certainly staring at you.” Garak made a tisking sound at the couple’s rudeness.

 

Julian groaned lightly. “Garak, do they look just idly curious or are they upset?”

 

Garak who was a master spy in his own right, managed to observe the couple without drawing attention to the fact that he was observing them.

 

“Oh, never mind. Now she's staring at him and he's staring at you. I think, Doctor you better prepare yourself.” Garak warned him as he sensed the man was preparing to get up and approach them.

 

“No, no, no. Not what I need right now. Please be just wanting some free and friendly medical advice.” Julian pleaded under his breath.

 

Julian could see the man begin to approach. He was human and not anyone Julian recognized. Likely a transient stranger. Julian quickly ruffled through his nearly perfect recall to place what the woman had been seen for and recalled that the lady had suspected she was pregnant and wanted confirmation. Great. That was spectacular. Why couldn't it have been a common cold?

 

“Why hi there, folks. I'd like a word with the man in blue.” the meaty looking blockhead muttered in surly politeness.

 

“I'm sorry, but I'm off the clock. If it's a medical emergency, I recommend stopping by the infirmary just down the promenade.” Julian rattled off smoothly.

 

“Oh, there just might be an emergency. Since when do they let people like you treat the general populous? You don't have any business wearing that uniform.”

 

“Oh my. Don't listen to him, Doctor. You look wonderful in uniform.” Garak gushed.

 

“Why thank you, Garak. All fashion sense aside. I've had quite a few people tell me what I am and am not fit for lately so I'm afraid you’re going to have to get in line. To be fair, I do regret that you disapprove of my job description. Luckily for you, there are two other qualified doctors to pick from that I'm sure can accommodate your future medical needs.” Julian muttered, secretly preparing himself for the possible physical altercation which he had no intention of indulging.

 

“You just shut your mouth. You damn Augments are all the same. You all think your so damn smart.” the stranger muttered.

 

“Oh? Have you really met that many?” Garak asked, with feigned interest glancing at Julian who had likewise caught his expression. They were both thinking the same thing.

 

“You just keep your hands to yourself. Got that?” The stranger fumed. “An Augment and a Cardassian Spy, betcha you’re just plotting to take over the whole damn place.”

 

Julian and Garak looked at each other before they both broke out into misty laughter. “Oooh, Garak. He’s caught us now.”

 

“Oh yes Doctor, whatever will we do?” Garak quipped.

 

“I know. Maybe we should have him summon the constable. He’s really foiled a master plot, you know? In fact, I think that’s exactly what he should do.” Julian said theatrically.

 

People were starting to look now and the woman behind them who had started the whole thing was bright red with embarrassment.

 

“I could do that, or we could just settle this right here.” The man muttered, forming his hand into a fist.

 

Julian rolled his eyes and shrugged, beginning to tire of the situation. “Well, if you insist.”

 

By now Quark had long caught onto the deal as well and had already discreetly summoned security.

 

“Julian.” Garak warned melodically.

 

“No, no. Now the man has a bone to pick. Let us allow him his satisfaction.” Julian muttered, before slipping out of the chair. “He wants to pummel me for taking medical care of his good lady, then so be it. I’m an Augment remember? I’m a danger to society. Just remember what the alternative is.” Julian positioned himself away from the table and just within striking distance of the larger man. “You just go ahead and hit me if it makes you...”

 

Before Julian could finish his sentence the man in front of him tried to sock him in the jaw. Julian mostly deflected the blow since he was still healing from having that part of his jaw shattered and in a defensive manner caught the other man right in the bread box effectively forcing all the air out of his lungs. The hit to his face was still enough for Julian to cut his lip on one of his teeth as a small ribbon of blood coated his tongue. With the man momentarily stunned Julian caught him by the shoulder to steady him and spit a glob of blood into his own free hand.

 

“Do you see that? Look at it.” Julian hissed. “I’m flesh and blood just like you. I can be hurt, I can be maimed, I can be killed. I’m just one man and yes; I’m an Augment. But I’m a man who would give my life to protect the life you’ve made with that woman there simply because it’s the good and right thing and because she deserves that from her doctor. Yet she doesn’t need me. She and the child growing inside her? They need you. I’m the expendable one here. Not you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I would like to sit and have a meal with my friend in peace. Peace is something of a novelty for me these days it seems. Oh, and congratulations. To the both of you. I was planning to wait until your follow up appointment, but under the circumstances since you won’t likely be needing me as your doctor anymore, I don’t mind telling you now. It’s a boy.”

 

At that Julian passed the man off to the security officers that had closed in on them and stepped away, plucking up a napkin from the table to wipe at his hand and at the corner of the bad side of his mouth. When he looked up Odo was staring at him with his arms crossed and an appraising look on his face.

 

“Good evening, Constable. Is there going to be a problem here?” Julian asked lightly not really caring if he was in trouble or not.

 

“Not anymore, Doctor. You should ask Quark for some ice for that lip of yours. I don’t suppose you want to press charges?” Odo asked, sardonically.

“No.” Julian shook his head. “I just want to sit and enjoy my meal.”

 

“Very good. Then I’ll leave you both to it.“ Odo turned to the lady who was helping along her lover. “If the two of you would kindly come with me.”

 

Odo led the other party away with his security staff in tow, while Julian slipped back down into his chair and pushed his food away. It was useless to try and eat now. Instead, he folded over the clean part of his napkin, dipped it into his ice water and pressed it against his aching jaw.

 

It was Garak’s turn to gawk at him. Where Julian would have expected to see a look of utter delight on the Cardassian’s face at having seen a side of him that should have enamored Garak, he instead saw a look of masked discernment on the Cardassian’s face.

 

“What?” Julian muttered.

 

“Nothing, it’s just...I always took you for something of a pacifist. Clearly, I’ve been mistaken all this time. You know doctor, I don’t mind telling you this now because I know you won’t take offense...But I think that charming boyish naivety of yours I used to know and love is gone.” There was just the slightest tinge of regret in Garak’s tone, as if he really saw it as a kind of personal loss.

 

“Sorry to disappoint you, Garak. But the truth is, I never really was THAT naive.” Julian said, implying that the part of his personality Garak was referring to had been the part of him he put up for other people’s benefit and to hide the true depth of his intellect.

 

“You’ll never be a disappointment to me, my friend. Really, I’m delighted to see this darker more mature side to you, although I don’t know that I’d agree fully with your self-assessment. In fact, I feel sorry that you’ve been robbed so prematurely of your real or imagined innocence. But then again, there are many kinds of innocence.  Where you’ve gained experience and judgement one place, you’ve also exposed yourself to new possibilities that you can’t begin to imagine or prepare for in another place.” Garak grunted and eventually waved his hand to signal a waitress. “I think this calls for a drink.”

 

A few minutes later they were sipping cocktails. The food having been whisked away as Garak confronted him once more.

 

 “Now, indulge me, please. I know you could have easily dodged the strike that brute got off you earlier. Instead, you let him hit you. Why?” He pressed.

 

“If I had dodged, he would have lost face and it would have been just further ammo for him and others to use against me. Luckily, there are a Hell of alot more aliens on this station then there are humans.” Julian muttered.

 

“Is the discrimination against your Augment status really that pronounced among other humans?” Garak asked with genuine curiosity.

 

“Yes. I have no doubt if this had been a bar on Earth, I would have been the one thrown out, but not before I took a beating for my trouble. Human people like to fear what they don’t understand. It’s not just about self-preservation it's also on a level about the entertainment of standing up to something superior to you and being able to triumph over it.” Julian explained. “It’s part of the reason I chose this commission. I thought if it ever came out into the open what I was, I could just fade away and start a new life somewhere out there. On Bajor maybe or somewhere else.

 

“Mm. You truly are remarkable. Well, you won’t hear any complaints from me. I’ve known you too long to believe that this new version of you is really that much different than the old version. Frankly, I’m glad you can be yourself now. In the full. You’ll never know how lucky you are to have the opportunity.” Garak said patting Julian on the arm.

 

The remark made Julian think of Gaven.

 

Now that they were both exposed, he wondered if the man would be different. Comparatively, Gaven’s situation was far more dramatic than his was. People at least understood to some degree what an Augment was. Once word got round that Gaven was part of a practically unknown alien race, he imagined there would be more than just idle curiosity about who he was, what he was doing on the station, how he’d come to be there, and where he’d come from. Gaven was such a private introverted person. He wasn’t the type to like drawing attention and yet he naturally drew the interest of others anyways. Julian realized it was because of the kind of person he was. Gaven was an inner light kind of person. No amount of suppression or oppression could completely hide it. It was Julian’s favorite thing about him.

 

Garak observed, an unusual look come over Julian’s face. It was a soft look. A look of someone besotted who didn’t know they were besotted with someone. Well, well. Garak mused. Perhaps not all that boyish naivety is gone after all, my beloved Doctor. Who are you thinking about, I wonder? Garak internally mused.

 

While he of course had a perfectly good guess, he found it fascinating to think that Julian Bashir was that obtuse about being in love. Certainly, his deep friendship with Garak and the way Julian tolerated Garak’s own suggestive overtures towards him proved there to be some untapped potential there.

 

The anticipation to properly meet the mysterious Doctor Ore suddenly intensified to a frenzied pitch in Garak’s chest and mind. He simply had to meet the man that had so completely ensnared his beloved Doctor’s attention.

 

~@~

 

Gaven was keeping an even lower profile than Julian was and had remained in seclusion in the infirmary for the remainder of his brief convalescence. Considering the things that had transpired since the arrival of Louis Zimmerman, Gaven found himself in a completely different position then he had originally planned to be. Instead of distancing himself from the Starfleet and the people on Deep Space Nine, he now found himself being intertwined more completely to both. The deal he’d made with Bennet further complicated an already complex situation. Furthermore, It was going to be a surprise to everyone when he dropped the boom on his plans to stop working in the infirmary. Shocking to all except the Captain and Doctor Fisk who were more aware of the circumstances involved than everyone else was.

 

On the day he was to be released, Jeremiah found that it was a slow enough day that he could afford to hover a bit and indulge himself in probing Gaven about his recent choices.

 

“You know, Julian’s going to wonder why you’ve suddenly had a change of heart about contributing to the inoculation research. Do you really think it’s necessary to keep the truth from him?” Jeremiah asked as he watched Gaven fold up some of his clothes.

 

Gaven shrugged. “I don’t actually know that my declaration made an impact whatsoever on Julian’s situation. For all I know, Admiral Bennett planned all along to pardon Julian from any culpability and allow him to keep his commission here and remain in Starfleet. It does please me to think though that I’ve at least afforded him a little insurance in the business. The best deeds in life, I’ve heard are done anonymously.”

 

“Mmmm. You don’t know and yet you’ve given up your anonymity and your freedom for him. You realize even if you stop helping here that you’ve basically made an open-ended promise to Starfleet command. Bennet isn’t the type to forget the deal’s he makes. Seems to me for a man that wants his freedom so badly, you’ve certainly given Starfleet a means of pulling you back in someday. That seems a little extreme for just wanting to help Julian out of a bind. But then again, I’m not really complaining, and I doubt Bennet will cash in anytime soon regarding you and Julian Bashir. Anyway, either of you by yourselves gives me a strong dose of hope that we might stand a fighting chance in this war. Having you two working together even if it’s just temporary...Well now that just makes me giddy. Julian aside, how do you really feel about it all? The fact that you’re not human should have made the rounds by now.” Jeremiah asked gently.

 

Gaven considered his question seriously for a moment. “I feel hopeful, Doctor. I’ve never liked keeping secrets. It decays the soul in my experience. I admit, I don’t know what to expect now. I had planned to ultimately slip away and find a quiet little hole away from the galaxy’s problems where I could live out the remainder of my days in peace and obscurity. But I think in the end I’ve realized that’s just a little too close to being dead and if I wanted to die and be forgotten about then I should have just remained in orbit around Oum where I was intended to be and died while I had the chance. I realize now that I like being alive and that I’d prefer to make some small difference while I’m doing so. I know I’ve come off resistant in the past to my situation, but I can’t deny that my time on this station has made me feel like I could be a part of something again. If not here, then somewhere.”

 

“Besides…” Gaven smiled thinly. “Between your advanced age and Julian’s somewhat unreliable self-confidence right now, someone needs to reliably be able to Doctor around here. At least until Julian is fully back up to snuff.”

 

The dig was warranted given that both Fisk and Julian had tried to back out of the complex procedure that ultimately saved Gaven’s life.

 

“Oh? Planning to come back full bird? Well, isn’t that lucky for everyone involved.” Fisk said approvingly.

 

“Let us say I’m planning to be available as a triage specialist during emergencies, I don’t think people on the station are going to accept the fact that I’ve been undercover all this time.” Gaven mused.

 

“Mm. When lives are at stake, you’d be amazed how little people give a damn about your pedigree. But nevertheless, how about we just wait and see how everything shakes out and go from there. Technically all anyone knows about you is that you’re not human and if anyone gives you any guff about it you can remind them that you never lied about who you were. If they failed to ask, then that’s their problem. By now, your good reputation greatly proceeds you.” Jeremiah stressed.

 

“We’ll have to see.” Gaven agreed. “I certainly plan to take my time for now. As much as I enjoy being helpful on the station, I do have some limited interests outside of it.”

 

“Hmm. Those interests wouldn’t have to do with a certain young Vulcan fellow, would it?” Jeremiah probed transparently.

 

“I know Jyrrus Cheval hovers over me, and I won’t deny he and I have a unique connection between us, but it’s not what you think. There’s a debt between us that has yet to be paid. Once it is, I imagine he’ll move right along with his life almost as if I were never there.” Gaven revealed.

 

“If by a unique connection you mean to say that young fella is in love with you, then fine.” Jeremiah muttered. “You really think it’s going to be that easy to just extract yourself from his feelings?”

 

“I don’t know.” Gaven admitted. “But what I do know is that what’s happened between Jyrrus Cheval, and I is not the same as real love. It was an accident. A symptom and byproduct of a complex nuro bonding that I inadvertently hijacked through our repeated psychic contact. Once we find a way to rectify the situation, an outcome we would both prefer, then the original neuro bond that existed will take full and complete precedence again.”

 

Jeremiah wasn't all together convinced that the two men shared the same preferences and perspectives on the subject, but he let the detail go figuring the Vulcan was perfectly capable of advocating for his own potential feelings.

 

“I suppose I’ll just have to take your word for that. Though, for the record, I happen to believe that all love is an accident. Be careful, boy. Not everyone has the emotional constitution that you have. But just out of curiosity if that Vulcan wasn’t previously attached. Would you be more apt to consider him as a real romantic prospect?” Jeremiah asked.

 

“No.” Gaven said quietly. “All cultural expectations aside, Doctor. I couldn’t in good faith seriously consider Jyrrus Cheval as a...mate. He’s a sensitive, gentle, and deceptively strong man. A truly seductive prospect if I were free in that way...But given how the circumstances of our bond came about, I don’t know if I could ever say for certain if what would develop between us was real. It would look real, feel real, but deep down I would always wonder, and it would slowly eat me up inside. I can’t and won’t do that to him. He deserves the life he was meant to have long before I came along. That’s where he belongs and who he really belongs to. Do you understand now, Doctor?”

 

“Mostly.” Jeremiah muttered. “Most of the rest, I don’t really need to understand to appreciate. I expect you’ll be taking a trip to Vulcan soon to, huh, work out your differences.”

 

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I’m hoping to leave in a few weeks for a short trip.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Good. Best to get it all resolved, I suppose.” Jeremiah hemmed.

 

Gaven sensed Jeremiah had more to say about his love life or lack thereof. “Do you object to something?”

 

“Me? No, no. I mean what do I really know about any of it. Humans don’t typically have the benefits of psychic and telepathic bonding in their relationships to each other. Not like some cultures do anyway. I think it’s right and good that you’re correcting your psychic entanglement.” Jeremiah said supportively.

 

“But,” Gaven said.

 

“Well...I just think you should consider being open to certain kinds of new connections. If not with Cheval, then maybe someone else. It’s not like the urge has magically gone away for you just because you’ve lost your bondmate. Now I’m sure there’s not a lot of precedence for this in your culture especially among the indentured of your kind since...You folks have a death pack with each other and all. But seeing as you’ve already broken with tradition by staying alive all this time, I just think you could maybe open yourself up more to new experiences. If nothing else for the sake of your health. Love and sex are more important to most people's mental health and personal development then you’d think and your still pretty young for an Oum. Hell, at sixty odd years you're just coming off life’s training wheels. Are you honestly telling me you plan to go on another sixty years alone?” Jeremiah argued.

 

Gaven considered his argument objectively. “I see what you’re saying, doctor. I admit as well that, until recently, I never anticipated the possibility of a particularly long or enduring life. It’s something to think about.” Gaven conceded.

 

“Good. Thinking about it is a healthy place to start. I wish you all due luck, boy. No matter how you turn it you’re not in for an easy or familiar road going forward. If you ever need a friendly ear. Let me know.” Jeremiah encouraged him.

 

“Thank you, Doctor. I will.” Gaven promised as he gathered up his things.

 

Chapter 27: In the Family Way

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

ACT II

[1]Chapter Twenty-Seven: In the Family Way

 

“Ah see now there?” Odo said triumphantly as he showed Dax, Kira, and Miles a recording of his changeling ward as it shifted rapidly into numerous complex shapes, translucent and unrefined, that were easily the size of a tall boy kitchen stool. “Watch now. We’ve been working on a more discernable humanoid shape. Kajel can practically mimic my facial contours. Do you have any idea how long it took me to be able to achieve that? Easily two years or so.”

 

“Amazing Odo. You must be so proud.” Dax encouraged him warmly, she loved looking at baby pictures and movies. Having been a parent many times over in her many lifetimes she understood the value of it.

 

“Are you still keeping Kajel in a containment field?” Miles asked idly.

 

At this question both Dax and Kira looked disapprovingly at him.

 

“What? Don’t look at me like that? I didn’t mean anything by it. We kept Molly in her playpen till she started walking. We had too. She was such a good climber that Keiko and I were worried she’d pull something down on herself if we didn’t.” Miles muttered defensively.

 

“Actually, yes. Call me overprotective but I’m just not confident Kajel is ready to be able to freely roam. I’d like to wait until we can get verbal communication going. I’m almost certain Kajel understands everything I say, a feat that I admit was hard for me to achieve with Doctor Mora. Mostly because I was being zapped every time that I tried to formulate something I wanted to try and say back. But Kajel doesn’t seem to mind too much so far. Too much to play with and look at.” Odo reflected.

 

“How does Kajel do when you leave?” Kira asked.

 

“Admittedly, Kajel is usually resting in their bucket when I depart. I make a point to tire them out before I need to leave so it hasn’t been a problem yet.” Odo admitted.

 

“Oie, I’ve been meaning to ask you something and I don’t mean to come off ignorant or insensitive but is Kajel a boy or a girl?” Miles asked. “I mean I know not all species have gender or use gender identifiers but, I dunno. I always assumed…”

 

“You assumed that because I’ve chosen to take a decidedly masculine form and use masculine pronouns that we changelings must have a gender. Don’t worry, it’s a fair enough question. The truth is changeling are genderless. If we as individuals choose to favor one form or another that’s just a matter of personal aesthetics. Of course, if Kajel were to decide to commit to a form that traditionally has a specific gender connotation, I would respect their sense of expression. But for now, it’s a moot point.” Odo explained.

 

“Fascinating. Sorry I asked.”  Miles muttered sheepishly.

 

“What about socialization. Have you thought about introducing Kajel to other lifeforms?” Dax asked. “Children tend to do better with early socialization.”

 

“I have brought Kajel secretly to the habitation zoological museum. They seem to enjoy that. Lots of interesting shapes to mimic. We’ve been experimenting with color matching lately as well. Blues and greens seem to be easier than say red or yellow. But again, until their verbal skills develop, I’ve been trying to use color coding for certain impulses. I don’t particularly need it to discern Kajel’s mood, but it might be helpful, again, for the sake of others.” Odo remarked.

 

Just then Julian arrived.

 

“You’re late.” Odo grumbled.

 

“Is that the new Holosuite program?” Jadzia asked brightly.

 

“That it is.” Julian said triumphantly displaying the gold colored holo rod. “It’s called Queen’s Gambit. It came this morning.”

 

A deliciously excited look came over Julian’s features as he slid into the nearest chair to join them.

 

“About time. That friend of yours promised to send it two months ago.” Miles revealed, showing that he’d been quietly anticipating the holo-novel’s arrival as much as the others.

 

“Well according to Felix it’s worth the wait. He said it’s the most elaborate program that he’s ever designed.” Julian insisted.

 

“Oh good. What parts do we get to play?” Dax asked excitedly.

 

Julian went on to describe the different roles to everyone only to be interrupted when an impatient Miles realized he was playing Falcon again. The villain. Despite his protests, Dax smoothed things over by reminding him that he was only being cast as the villain because he was so damn good at it. The compliment was just true enough that Miles couldn’t help but smile and let it pass.

 

“So. Is everyone alright for Saturday?” Julian inquired excitedly.

 

Dax and Miles gave their approval easily but when Julian looked to Odo he seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. “Huh...I can’t on Saturday. I have plans with Kajel...Huh, what was it you wanted me to do again?”

 

“It’s not going to take that long. If your worried, get a sitter.” Dax Recommended. “We need you to save the Queen.”

 

“Not only that but you’ll get to drive around in fancy automobiles and go to posh parties. Not to mention you get to steal her away from Falcon.” At that Julian flashed a picture of an icy blonde beauty.  “I’m sure Gaven would be delighted to babysit if you ask him.”

 

“Wait a minute. He steals my girl?” Miles protested.

 

“Um...Maybe you’d better get another Nigel Dunlap. I don’t know if I’m ready...to leave Kajel yet, I mean.” Odo covered quickly. “Perhaps Doctor. Ore could join you instead. I um...I’m sorry. Perhaps this was a mistake. I should never have agreed to be part of this in the first place. I’m a parent now and as such I have certain responsibilities...and I uh...Sorry.” At that Odo practically backed out of his chair and away from the table before he finally apologized for himself, turned, and walked away leaving his stunned and confused friends to wonder at his sudden departure.

 

“What was that about?” Dax wondered.

 

“I dunno but I suppose I could see if Gaven was interested. I know for a fact that he’s free on Saturday.” Julian mused.

 

“Toss, Gaven. I’ll do it.” Miles insisted to no avail.

 

“Don’t be greedy.” Julian teased. “I don’t think Gaven’s ever been in a Holosuite before. Might be an interesting novelty for him. I know he enjoys reading and writing and I’m sure he could get the essence of the subject matter in record time.”

 

“Has anyone talked to him at all since he, you know...Came out?” Miles asked.

 

“I haven’t.” Julian admitted, “Although Jeremiah as told me he’s back on the inoculation research. I haven’t had time to ask, but I’m glad he hasn’t completely followed through on his disappearing act.”

 

“That’s a bit a good news anyways.” Miles remarked. “Glad to see things are starting to get back to normal around here.”

 

“Indeed.” Julian agreed.

 

~@~

 

As Julian and the others continued to talk together, Odo was trying to weave his way through the dense crowd. It was a busy night in Quark’s and although Odo could have easily just changed forms and slipped through the masses unnoticed, he was too flustered to bother. His annoyance at his own discomfort steadily grew until Odo’s rapt attention to detail gave him a target to project his tension at. As he came briskly down a set of spiral stairs, he was just in time to be confronted with the sight of Quark trying to horang a no nonsense looking blonde woman at the bar.

 

“Why don’t you leave her alone, Quark? Can’t you see she’s not interested?” He observed sternly.

 

“How do I know she’s not interested...Unless I ask?” Quark replied smoothly.

 

“Maybe you should spend less time bothering your customers and spend more time keeping an eye on your business?” The woman suggested evenly.

 

Quark took the obscene opportunity to inhale a finger load of cream off his pinky finger before replying. “Don’t worry. I can keep my eyes on more than one thing at a time.”

 

“Really?” The woman said, deciding to test his claims as she drew their attention to an alien figure up on the catwalk. “What about him? He’s got a graviton emitter hidden in his ring. He’s manipulating the table for his friend over there.”

 

The observation was enough to instantly send the formerly amorous Quark off to go deal with the situation leaving an impressed Odo behind.

 

“You’re very observant.” He noted with his arms crossed in piqued approval.

 

“Thanks.” The woman muttered sighing in relief as her dark blue eyes looked past Odo impatiently.

 

“Are you waiting for someone?” Odo inquired.

 

Not missing a beat, the woman refocused her attention onto Odo.

 

“You. Where have you been all my life?” She asked in a wistful manner.

 

“Pardon me?” Odo asked both intrigued and confused by her response.

 

“Isn’t that what you were hoping I would say?” She asked shrewdly, her blue eyes going expectantly wide.

 

“No.” Odo protested. “It’s just that you keep glancing at the door.”

 

“I’m waiting for someone.” She parroted.

 

Odo shook his head. “That’s all I meant.”

 

“Sorry.” The stranger apologized. “I thought you had other things on your mind. Must be those bedroom eyes of yours.”

 

At this strange remark Odo tilted his head to the side, not remotely used to anyone saying such a thing to him.

 

“Bedroom eyes?” He asked, not fully grasping her meaning.

 

“You probably get that all the time.” She suggested.

 

“Not really.” Odo remarked honestly before shaking his head. “If anyone bothers you again...Let me know.”

 

Odo’s tone was sincere. As he took a moment to introduce himself and indicate where the stranger could find him.

 

“I’ll be alright.” She replied calmly as she watched Odo slowly back away from her.

 

“Well...I have to go…To work...In my office.” He muttered before nearly walking into the edge of the bulkhead before he turned tail and left.

 

~@~

 

Later that day, Odo was back in his quarters spending time with Kajel. The changeling was presently pooled in Odo’s lap like a cat and occasionally tried to get his distracted attention by changing colors from clear to an aqua blue. When it eventually turned yellow and morphed into a prickled shape Odo finally focused his attention.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry Kajel. I know I’m distracted and I’m sorry I’m not playing today. Your father is being foolish. To think some woman would have any interest...To think I’d even have the time...Well you’re too young to understand these things anyway. I’ll...try to explain it sometime when you’re older.” Odo promised.

 

“Need a sympathetic ear? Knock-knock. I believe we had a checkup scheduled for today.” Gaven remarked appearing from the outer chamber that had ben left unlocked by Odo for his convenience.

 

“Oh yes, come in Doctor Ore. I’m sorry but I completely forgot. Look who's here to see you, Kajel.” Odo smiled fondly as the changeling noticed Gaven and immediately moved towards him.

 

Gaven swiftly let down the forcefield that was keeping Kajel contained in the main room and knelt the best he could with his bad leg as the blob engulfed his torso supportively and began to twist around him like a snake pulling him the rest of the way to the floor and dragging him further into the room.

 

Gaven chuckled in pure delight, not perturbed at all by the changelings probing and pulling of him.

 

“Active today. That’s good.” Gaven remarked affectionately. “And strong.”

 

“Somebody likes you an awful lot. You really do have a remarkable way with them.” Odo observed.

 

“Mm. There’s no accounting for individual taste. I’m glad Kajel trusts me. You really should consider letting them interact with others though. Part of this behavior is a sign of boredom. No child wants to only hang out with its parent all day.” Gaven offered.

 

“I don’t know.” Odo admitted skeptically.

 

“What about the O’briens? You know them. Molly is old enough to understand that this is just a baby. You could introduce them and see how it goes.” Gaven recommended.

 

“I’ll...consider it.” Odo offered.

 

After Gaven took a few minutes to do some basic scans and take some measurements, Odo preceded to encourage Kajel to demonstrate what they were practicing. Much to Gaven’s delight and applause.

 

“Excellent. Kajel’s progress is amazing.” Gaven commented.

 

“Yes. They’re already leaps and bounds ahead of where I was at that age. It’s been fascinating to watch.” Odo agreed.

 

For several minutes both men were quiet as they watched Kajel move about the space and play.

 

“Are you, huh, feeling better, Doctor?” Odo eventually inquired.

 

“Yes.” Gaven said nodding. “Maybe the best I’ve felt in a long time, Mr. Odo.”

 

“There are rumors going around about you. Nothing alarming but please let me know if you have any negative experiences. Doctor Bashir already had an unsavory run in the other day with an objectionable troublemaker.” Odo remarked.

 

“Well, I suppose it would be too much to expect absolute acceptance. But since Julian hasn’t ended up in the infirmary or the brig, I assume he handled the situation.” Gaven muttered leaning back onto his elbows as he reclined on the floor.

 

“Are you doing alright?” Gaven asked suddenly.

 

“Yes. Why?” Odo inquired sharply.

 

“Raising offspring can be stressful. It takes up a great deal of your time and emotional energy especially when you’re doing it alone. That and I couldn’t help but overhear what you were saying when I arrived.” Gaven admitted.

 

“I see. Let me ask you your opinion. Do you think I have bedroom eyes?” Odo asked wiggling his brows experimentally.

 

Gaven tilted his head. “I’m afraid I’m not quite familiar with the expression. You do have a kind of intensity about you though and your eyes are one of your better features, I admit. They never change. You must work awfully hard to maintain it.”

 

“Mm. Somebody remarked on the very same thing. I take it then that you also find me attractive.” Odo observed.

 

“Yes.” Gaven conceded, nodding his head from the floor. “I do happen to think you're very attractive, fascinating, and pleasurable to converse with.”

 

“though, in fairness, I am a bit biased on the subject. You’ll always hold a certain level of fascination for me, Mr. Odo.” Gaven admitted quietly, finding this line of questioning both sobering and amusing.

 

“Mm. Yes. But I mean...Never mind. I don’t know what I mean anymore.” Odo huffed growing embarrassed and frustrated with himself suddenly.

 

“I know what you mean,” Gaven said gently. “And please. Allow me to reassure you that, yes, you are a very desirable person. I feel that anyone would be lucky to enjoy your emotional and sexual affections and overtures, Mr. Odo.”

 

“Well...Thank you. I appreciate your perspective.” Odo muttered.

 

It was fascinating how Gaven managed to be so disarmingly honest and how little he was ashamed of his own feelings. Odo wondered at this tendency in the other man. How he used honesty as a kind of protective shield. As if, by being honest about himself he was removing anyone’s ability to accuse him of deceit. It was a rare quality, indeed. Perhaps Odo’s favorite quality of Gaven’s. The effect allowed Odo to relax.  At least as much as he ever allowed himself to relax when conversing with another person.

 

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Gaven asked after a few long beats.

 

“It would seem only fair. Go ahead.” Odo muttered.

 

“You’ve been among the solids a long time. Have you ever actually been physically intimate with any of them?” Gaven asked, frankly.

 

“Huh, no. Not, huh, in the solid sense of the idea. Why?” Odo inquired.

 

“Well, it seems then that you lack the confidence that comes with practice. As far as I can see. that is your only real problem and it’s a common one. You seem to think it’s unbecoming to be attracted to people and to hunger for deeper intimacy with them. You seem to fear the vulnerability that comes with sharing yourself fully with someone else. You shouldn’t let that stop you from pursuing the experiences that you want.” Gaven encouraged him.

 

“I see. Thank you for your frankness, Doctor.” Odo remarked. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

 

“Of course.” Gaven nodded.

 

“You know, Doctor Ore. Since we’re being so honest with each other, I might remark that you’re not an unattractive prospect either. I’m sure many people here on the station would be interested in you romantically and such if you were open to their interest. You’ve got that dark and brooding air to you that’s so common in gothic novels. I think most would find you quite romantic in a classical sense.” Odo observed.

 

“Mm. I think you better help be up, Mr. Odo. I see now what they mean by bedroom eyes and while I have a great deal of personal restraint in me when it comes to certain kinds of interplay between myself and the people I admire, you might just push me over the limits of my rationality and self-control and I don’t think I’m your intended target in that department.” Gaven remarked in a wispy deadpan manner, coloring ever so slightly as a curling smile of deeply gratified amusement threatened at the corner of his mouth.

 

Odo merely chuckled and straighten to come over and help Gaven off the floor. Somehow it was comforting to talk this way with the alien doctor even if neither of them was serious about their innuendo.

 

“Well, now that I’ve had my thrill for the day, I think I better go home and lie down. You're not the only one with intimacy conundrums. If you need anything else, call me at home.” Gaven encouraged him. “I am at your complete disposal.”

 

“I just may do that, Doctor. Thank you.” Odo agreed.

 

“My pleasure.” At that Gaven said his goodbye and departed.

 

As it turned out, Odo ended up calling in a favor with Gaven sooner than he expected when an unexpected call from security came through requesting his presence. Odo had no choice but to secure a sitter so that he could attend to the situation and for the moment Gaven was the only one he trusted with the job.

 

While Gaven spent most of the day in Odo’s quarters with the changeling, eventually his own work necessities called him away. With Julian still regulated to limited time working and Fisk having to take on the general management of the infirmary in full, Gaven was on call for the smaller things that Fisk didn’t have time to attend to. In this case it was the O’briens.

 

Unwilling to leave Kajel alone. Gaven made an agreement with the Changeling. “Now, listen. If I take you with me on my rounds, I expect you to behave yourself. Your father would be seriously upset if you wandered off or got yourself into trouble. I’m trusting you to use good judgement and mind your manners around other life forms. If you can do that, then I’ll try to convince Odo to let me take you on other outings in the future. Do we have a deal little one?”

 

To his satisfaction the changing rippled gently before turning a soft baby blue. Gaven knew it was agreeing to his terms.

 

“Good. In you go.” Gaven opened the large sling he’d fashioned, and the changeling obediently pooled inside it.

 

Several minutes later, he was in the infirmary. Today it was just Keiko with Molly and a very fussy Kirayoshi in tow.

 

“I think it’s an ear infection but he won’t let me get near him with any home remedies.” Keiko said in tired exasperation.

 

“It’s alright. Keiko. Let me look at him.” Gaven set his sling down on a nearby table and activated the containment field before he moved back to gently lift Kirayoshi up onto the examiner table.

 

“Well, Hello my little man.” Gaven said, wiggling his fingers in front of the small child to distract him.

 

As he observed Kirayoshi he noticed the babe tug irritably at his ears as he fused and cried. I can see why you thought it might be an ear infection. But...Mmhm. Take a look, there.”

 

Gaven gently tilted the babe’s head up so that Keiko could better see what he had noticed. Sure enough she suddenly spotted the anomaly. It was the hint of a baby tooth pushing up through the gums.

 

“He’s teething?” Keiko said in mild surprise. “But...He’s so young.”

 

“True, though there’s many accounts of babies with developed hair and teeth, sometimes while still in the womb. Looks to me like you have an early bloomer. As you probably know, human babes can get pain in their ear canals during teething. I’ll of course check him to rule out a possible ear infection as well, but let’s focus on getting his pain levels down before I commit a full examination. He’s likely mostly reacting to that tooth coming in. A rod of flavored ice should help numb out the pain and bring down his elevated temperature which is a product of him crying and likely rubbing excessively at his face. Why don’t we start there, wait about twenty minutes, and then see if he’ll let me look at his ears.” Gaven proposed.

 

While Gaven and Keiko came to consensus about their plan, Molly was quietly looking around. Eventually her eyes settled on the sling Gaven had set down where Kajel was still hiding. But as molly neared the containment field to her young delight Kajel stirred and tentatively slipped out of the sling to near the edge of the containment field stopping just short of touching its boundaries.

 

“Hi.” Molly said shyly, recognizing that the moving pool was a lifeform. She’d seen Odo shapeshift before and recognized what she was looking at.

 

To the child’s delight the changeling seemed to respond to this attention doubling up on itself like a thick worm. Twisting its form as if to look sideways at her. Kajel suddenly began to shift slowly into different shades of blue like a mood ring. Aqua, to sky blue, to a near periwinkle and back again. For her part Molly seemed impressed by this, smiling wide.

 

Encouraged by her expressions, Kajel rippled pleasantly before it began to shift into various simple shapes for Molly’s benefit. Molly clapped lightly and giggled.

 

“Molly, what are you doing over there?” Keiko asked distractedly.

 

“Mommy, look. It’s like Odo.” She said innocently.

 

Keiko glanced from Molly to Gaven and back. “Sweetie, it’s not polite or correct to call a life form an IT .”

 

Since they were still waiting for Kirayoshi to finish his replicated cherry ice stick, Gaven let Keiko hold her now calming son as he came around the examiner table to kneel next to Molly carefully.

 

“Allow me to make proper introductions. Molly, this is Kajel Odo. Kajel, this is Molly O’brien.” He said patiently.

 

“Is it a baby changeling?” Molly asked.

 

“Yes. Sort of like your little brother Kirayoshi.” Gaven explained.

 

“She’s pretty.” Molly commented innocently, apparently deciding the changeling must be a girl like her.

 

“I agree that Kajel is very pretty. But you know? I’m not sure if Kajel feels like a girl, so for now it’s better to use neutral pronouns like ‘they’ or ‘them’. Or you can just use Kajel’s name.” Gaven explained gently to Keiko’s approval.

 

“Oh.” Molly said curtly. “I’m sorry, Kajel. You don’t have to be a girl or a boy if you don’t want to. I’m a girl though so if you ever want to be like me, I can answer any questions you have.”

 

Gaven smiled fondly at this perfect remark.

 

Kajel seemed to respond positively as well as they brightly flared up in a twisty spin causing Molly to clap and giggle.

 

At this sound, the Changeling stopped abruptly and came to hover close to Molly’s face again as if to study her. As Molly turned her face to mimic the blobs movements. Kajel attempted to copy her features. Just a translucent silhouette really of molly’s face and throat.

 

Then something utterly unexpected happened.

 

Kajel tried to giggle.

 

At first it came out as a muffled echo but after a few seconds of adjustment Kajel managed to mimic Molly’s giggle. Not to perfection, but close enough to indicate it’s attempt.

 

“Gaven?” Keiko said slightly alarmed.

 

“Well, I’ll be damned. Look at that. Baby’s first laugh. Odo is going to kill me for missing it.”

 

A mildly concerned look suddenly crossed Keiko’s features.

 

Gaven caught the expression and pressed his lips. “Mimicry is how changelings learn about things. It’s really no different than any child copying the influences around them.”

 

“Right.” Keiko agreed, shaking off her former expression. “Right. All children do it.”

 

Gaven wondered when she agreed the second time who she was trying to reassure. It was disappointing to Gaven that Keiko might feel afraid of the changeling in some way. As if the act of simply mimicking her daughter's laughter was an ominous indication of certain untapped potentials.

 

“I think Kirayoshi is ready for me to look at his ears now, Mrs. O’brien. Shall we?” Gaven said, encouraging them to get on with the exam.

 

Notes:

[1] “In The Family Way” and “Lady, Nior” are a reworking of the episode “A Simple Investigation” (DS9:S5:E17). Some dialogue was taken directly from the episode.

Chapter 28: Lady, Noir

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lady, Noir

 

While Gaven was babysitting, Odo spent his time on reconnaissance with unexpected results.

 

Thinking she wasn’t being observed Arissa broke into the stations assay office and nearly made off with a data crystal being stored there, until Odo caught her in the act. Not to his surprise he was later able to expose her lie of a story she’d told him about having a daughter, though something about her back up story was just compelling enough for Odo to decide to take her into temporary protective custody instead of turning her over to the authorities much to the surprise of Arrisa. But her temporary asylum was conditional on whether or not Odo’s people could successfully analyzed the crystal’s contents and on what those contents turned out to be.

 

Generally, Odo didn’t take kindly to people trying to murder each other on his watch and turf. He also really didn’t appreciate the Orion Syndicate dragging the station into their private games. Ultimately, Arissa seemed confused by Odo’s willingness to protect her even temporarily. But the reality was she simply didn’t know him well enough to understand.

 

While under protection and while his team worked on her crystal, Odo charged Arissa with the task of looking over the security footage of the stations coming and goings. While he didn’t anticipate anything to come of it, it was worth the long shot of trying.

 

It was going to take a while, Odo knew.

 

 All more reason to go home while he could.

 

To Odo’s shock, when he arrived back at his quarters, he found neither Gaven or Kajel there. A quick computer inquiry solved the first question Odo thought to ask. The next several however could only be answered when he got to the infirmary and had a word with Dr. Ore.

 

“What did you think you were doing taking Kajel with you without asking me first?” Odo fumed.

 

Odo had caught Gaven in the lab analyzing tissue samples for the inoculation project and for once his stoic restraint was not a factor as he immediately laid into the doctor on sight.

 

“I’m sorry.” Gaven immediately apologized. “I did tell you before I agreed to watch Kajel that I was on call today and that I could be pulled away. What would you have had me do, leave them at home?”

 

“You should have called me.” Odo said in a deeply annoyed manner as if he was surprised by the other man’s lack of sense.

 

“Fair enough. Really, I’m very sorry. I did call but I suppose I wasn’t as persistent as I could have been. When your staff mentioned you were unavailable, I simply made the decision to bring them along instead. Frankly, I admit I don’t regret it. The infirmary is a familiar and safe space for Kajel, and it does have other advantages.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Such as?” He inquired.

 

“Socialization for one.” Gaven offered.  

 

“We’ve been over this before, Doctor…” Odo said.

 

“Yes. You’ve been hesitant to decide about it. But today is an example of why it’s so important. There’s going to always be times when you can’t avoid Kajel having to interact with others. Right now, you have a choice to help guide them through those interactions. If you avoid it, to shield and protect them, then you may not have control later over the results.”  

 

“Yes. I’ve thought about those things. Many times. I’m aware that it is important.” Odo muttered.

 

“I’m glad. You always struck me as a very thorough kind of person. Are you also aware that people are afraid of Kajel?” Gaven asked seriously.

 

“What do you mean? Was there a problem today?” Odo asked as a trickle of fear suddenly dropped through him.

 

Gaven shrugged.

 

“Keiko was here today with her children. It was why I was initially called away. While I was examining Kirayoshi, Molly noticed Kajel and began to interact with them. It was very innocent and very sweet and although Mrs. O’brien was very tolerant of the interaction I saw how she really felt. I saw it the moment Kajel attempted to mimic her daughter.” Gavn explained calmly.

 

“What?” Odo said sharply as if he hadn’t heard Gaven right.

 

“It was Molly’s laughter. Kajel liked the sound and tried to mimic it which required them to try for a more complex humanoid form.” Gaven explained.

 

For a moment Odo managed to put aside his anger and consern long enough to wonder at this news. “And? How did it go?”

 

Gaven smiled slightly, pleased by the very parental interest of Odo. It struck him as fascinating how other humanoid life forms formed such strong familial attachments, affections, and interests in the progress of their offspring. It doubly surprised him how those feelings could manifest even among individuals who were not genetically linked. Such sentiment was almost foreign to him. He’d never seen an exception to this outside of Lopel Ner, who he now believed would have looked on their offspring as these other humanoids did.

 

“Kajel succeeded.” Gaven said simply.

 

“And, Keiko? How did she react?” Odo asked.

 

“Though she tried to cover it I could tell it perturbed her to have her daughter copied even if it was only a rudimentary attempt. I think we both know why.” Gaven remarked evenly.

 

Odo sighed. His anger beginning to dissipate now that most of the shock was over. “I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. The O’briens are good people, but they took it poorly when Dr. Bashir was attacked. I’m sure on a level there might be some residual prejudice involved because of that negative experience.”

 

“Yes.” Gaven agreed, remembering how violently Miles had exploded when Gaven had come out of emergency surgery to update everyone on Julian’s condition.  “To a certain extent some biased and prejudice is to be expected especially of the Dominion conflict escalates. I don’t envy your position Mr. Odo. But I do believe that it doesn’t have to be so bad. Socialization isn’t just going to be good for Kajel, it’ll be good for others on the station. As people get to know them the fact that Kajel is a changeling may become less of an issue in the same way you being a changeling isn’t an issue for most people on the station. It takes time to build understanding and trust.”

 

“I see.” Odo said nodding as he thought the whole thing through and saw the point Gaven was trying to make. “Did Kajel seem to enjoy interacting with Molly O’brien.”

 

Yes. I think they did. Molly enjoyed it too. You know, despite her internal reservations, I think Keiko would be open to further interaction between Kajel and her daughter if you approached her about it.” Gaven advised.

 

“Mm. I would like Kajel to have friends. Friendship was something I personally didn’t get to experience at an early period. It’s not something I want to deny them the benefit of.” Odo admitted.

 

“I’m glad to hear it. Well, if you not too angry with me. I am still available to babysit if you had other things to do tonight. I heard Julian acquired some kind of new something or other that he and some of the others are planning to enjoy later.” Gaven said.

 

“Yes. It’s a holo-suite novel. Dr. Bashir frequently likes to act out certain spy fantasies. He tried to rope me into it but I ultimately declined.” Odo explained.

 

“Not your kind of hobby?” Gaven inquired, genuinely curious.

 

“Actually, I am rather fond of mysteries and playing them out in the Holo-suites can be quite stimulating, but huh, elements of the role I was intended to play seemed...A bit beyond my depths.” Odo admitted cryptically.

 

“Hm. I find that hard to believe.” Gaven remarked.

“Oh? Why?” Odo asked.

 

“Because you’re a shapeshifter. Isn’t everyday kind of like playing at a role? I would think you’d be one of the most capable actors on the station.”  Gaven mused with just a hint of comedy.

 

A thin smile appeared on the changeling’s face. “I’m very capable, indeed. It’s not really the character I object to, but there are certain things so far outside my frame of reference that...It was simply better I turn the Doctor down this time.”

 

“Ah well, I can certainly understand that.” Gaven replied, nodding. “This frame of reference you lack wouldn’t have anything to do with that thing we were discussing earlier, would it?”

 

Odo didn’t reply and just pressed his lips stoically at him.

 

“Right. None of my business.” Gaven back stepped.

 

“Dr. Bashir didn’t happen to approach you about taking my place, did he?” Odo asked suddenly.

 

“He did as a matter of fact. Not directly, but he sent me an invite. Obviously, I had other plans today and even if I didn’t, I don’t know that I would enjoy participating in one of Julian’s fantasies. His reputation with beautiful women proceeds him and anyway I’ve already seen what some of his fantasies entail. The last time I got tangled up in one of them I ended up in a somewhat uncomfortable position that I don’t care to repeat.” Gaven mused thinking back in his mind’s eye to the night Julian had shown up at his quarters, gotten drunk and delusional, and ended up in Gaven’s bed.

 

“Mm. You should give the holo-suite a try sometime. On your own terms that is. It does have its enjoyable elements. As for babysitting I’m afraid I do need someone to watch Kajel for a little longer. I’ve got a security situation I’m attending to and I don’t know how long it’s going to take to sort out.”

 

“I can do that. You don’t mind if we stay here for awhile longer?” Gaven asked.

 

“No, Though Jakel is used to sleeping in their bucket. So I would prefer if you bring them back home at a reasonable time.”

 

Of course.” Gaven agree.

 

“Oh, before you go. Mr. Odo. Might I say that I think you should give whatever experience your being tempted by a chance. On your own terms, of course. Even if it doesn’t work out, it might be worth the trouble of the experience.” Gaven advised.

 

“I...I hope you’re right, Doctor.” Odo agreed.

 

~@~

 

After Odo left again to continue dealing with the Arissa case, Gaven ended up staying the rest of the evening and then over night while Odo had the woman in his private custody. It seemed an unusual kind of situation and Gaven hoped for the Constable’s sake that he wasn’t falling into something less than professional with his prisoner.

 

“You’re where?” Julian questioned when he noticed Gaven wasn’t in the infirmary the following morning only to receive a call from him soon after he would have been due to arrive.

 

“I’m still at Odo’s watching Kajel. It seems the Constable is a bit...Tangled up in his work and hasn’t come home yet.” Gaven muttered.

 

“We are talking about Odo, aren't we? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him renege on his responsibilities ever.” Julian muttered.

 

“Mm. There’s a first time for everything.” Gaven muttered. “I’m calling because I wanted to let you know I finished analyzing those tissue samples you started the other day. They seem responsive. We can probably start testing phase one of the inoculation process.”

 

“My my. You have been busy. No wonder I haven’t seen you in ages.” Julian muttered.

 

There was an elongated pause on the other line before, Gaven spoke again. “Julian, I noticed Quark has quite an extensive collection of wilderness themed programs. I was thinking about it earlier and I was wondering if you’d like to come rock climbing with me sometime.”

 

It was Julian’s turn to let the line go silent. He was genuinely taken back. In the many months they’d known each other Gaven had never once invited Julian to do anything with him. When they had ended up in personal social situations together it was usually because Julian had forced the interaction on Gaven or because they had been mutually invited by someone else.

 

“Julian, you are familiar with the activity. Aren’t you? I mean if it’s not something you like I’m sure I can find som…” Gaven was eventually cut off.

 

“No. I mean...I like rock climbing. I’d love to take on a rock face with you.” Julian agreed. “When were you thinking?”

 

“Tomorrow if you’re free. Maybe in the afternoon.” Gaven proposed.

 

“That should be fine. Send me the details and I’ll see you later.” Julian replied before ending the call.

 

“Rock climbing.” Julian muttered to himself shaking his head in wonder.

 

~@~

 

True to Gaven’s predictions, something personal was developing between Odo and Arissa. After Odo had put her up in a secure location and learned more about her back story, a kind of sympathy had begun to develop between them. A sympathy that blossomed quickly into a protective and passionate liaison that they both gave themselves over to.

 

Arissa didn’t in fact sleep in the night. Nor did Odo for that matter. Their lovemaking had been too demanding on their attention, too all-encompassing to dilute with such a trivial concept as sleep.

 

“I could swear that when we first met your nose had a little curve right here.” Arissa said as they basked in their post coital glow of the early morning.

 

“Mm. Oh, I tend to look a little different every day.” He muttered in an almost sing song manner as he rested in perfect tranquility beside her lightly stroking at her elbow.

 

“Yet you always manage to make these the same.” She remarked, as she lightly traced along his brow line.

 

“Well, I pay special attention to my scowl.” Odo muttered in a low lazy poetic fashion. “An air of stern suspicion is very important in my line of work.”

 

At that Odo practically growled like a cat and kiss her once more. After a moment they adjusted themselves and Odo turned so that he could study her beautiful face.

 

“What?” She inquired softly. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

 

“I’m...Just trying to figure something out.” Odo admitted shyly.

 

“Tell me. Maybe I can help.” She implored him in a whisper that was so soft it was barely audible.

 

At this request, Odo held his breath for a tick and looked away. Vulnerability was difficult for him but when it came to Arissa he felt the need to be entirely truthful. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever been...close with. I’ve never been able to let down my guard. I was just wondering...what makes you different.”

 

It took a full thirty seconds for Arissa to realize what he was trying to tell her and the information, given what they’d been doing for the last several hours, was a genuine surprise to her.

 

“Wait a minute. Have you never been with anyone else before?” It was utterly unbelievable to her to think Odo so virginal.

 

“Not with a humanoid.” He admitted quietly still not bringing himself to look directly at her. “Well, once...On my homeworld I... Had an experience you might consider...Sexual.”

 

By now he had finally mustered up the dignity to look at her again.

 

 Somehow, he looked younger than when they had first begun, and she knew it was another expression of his romantic innocence.

 

“But never with a woman before.” It was a delightful notion, for Arissa’s part the idea suddenly made her feel young and new again too.

 

“Could you tell?” Odo asked, as the slightest trace of worry creased his features.

 

“No.” Arissa said honestly, beaming at him.

 

“Good.” Odo replied boyishly before he took possession of her mouth easing her once more into the depths of pure bliss.

 

Odo sighed. “I don’t ever want to leave this room. Can we stay here forever?”

 

“Oh, I wish we could.” She agreed.

 

Indeed, she hadn’t been able to tell.

 

Their love making had been slow, and remarkably involved for both. It wasn’t just his competence and attention to detail physically and mentally but the depth of his emotional responsiveness. Odo had noticed everything, never once had his attention deterred from her. In return he had let everything she was and had been go until who they were and where they were hadn’t mattered anymore.  

 

But of course, none of that, no matter how powerful the feeling, was true. None of it erased the truth between them. The truth of who they individually were. So, while Odo seemed content to linger in the fantasy of their passion, for Arissa, reality began to crudely creep into her awareness spoiling the perfection of the mood. Odo couldn’t sense it like she could. Not now, and he proved it in his attempts to reassure her.

 

“Arissa? Everything...It’s going to work out.” He promised.

 

“I want to believe that.” Arissa admitted meekly. “But I know what the Orion Syndicate does to people who turn against them. I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”

 

At that moment she knew she had broken the spell for him too and truly wished she could have spared him the effects.

 

“I’m sorry.” She apologized pulling him close to her again. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Let’s just be together.”

 

It was her turn to reassure him and Odo accepted this boon even if he knew deep down what the realities really were between them.

 

“Alright.” He agreed.

 

Arissa kissed him and a mischievous smile came over her features.

 

“Tell me more about this encounter you had on your homeworld. Hmm?” Her smile was radiant and deeply playful.

 

“It was with another changeling. Our bodies became...Intermingled.” Odo explained slowly.

 

“Mmm. Sounds nice.” Arissa mused as their bodies began to mold together once more.

 

“Mmm.” Odo agree.

 

“Too bad I’m not a changeling.” She quipped seductively.

 

“Oh, we shouldn’t let that stop us.” Odo remarked slyly.

 

As if to prove his point, Odo used his shape shifting ability to give her a more complete taste of just what he was uniquely capable of which successfully plunged her almost immediately back into sensual ecstasy.

 

~@~

 

Another few hours later the rumor mill, at least among the higher officers, was churning. As usual, Dax was in the forefront of the gossip.

 

“I’m telling you, I heard it from Julian who heard it in not so many words from Gaven. Odo still hasn’t come home yet.” Dax insisted.

 

“Yeah but...I mean, he has her under protective custody. Of course, somebody has to watch her. You don’t know that there’s anything going on between them.” Kira protested.

 

“Oh, come on, Nyres. You were the one who told me he was interested in her and it’s not like he had to be the one to keep an eye on her. Plus, you know how devoted he’s been as a parent. There’s no way in Hell, Odo of all people, would blow off those kinds of responsibilities if it weren’t over something epic. And I highly doubt they’ve simply gotten caught up in a rousing game of chess.” Dax pressed.

 

“Well, you know how Odo gets with his work. He’d rather do something himself if he can. He’s thorough like that and this is a serious situation.” Kira said trying to reason the situation away from the direction Dax was barreling down.

 

“Oh, it’s a serious situation alright. A smoking ho…” Jadzia insisted.

 

“Commander.” Worf interrupted them, successfully cutting his lover off from saying something indecent, but to little less than no further effect.

 

“What makes you say that?” Kira demanded defensively.

 

“Instinct.” Jadzia insisted.

 

“Jadzia.” Worf tried again to interject.

 

“What?” Both said turning to look up at him clearly feeling as if he was interrupting their heated discussion.

 

“You asked to be told when the sensor array became available.” Though Worf’s mouth was saying one thing his stance and eyes were saying another. Namely, shut up and stay out of other people's business.

 

“Thank you.” Jadzia remarked before briskly turning back to face Kira as she more quietly tried to continue their conversation. “Odo and a woman--I mean...It was bound to happen sooner or later, right?”

 

Worf continued to stare at his lover, growing more uncomfortable as they went on as he tried in vain to will her to stop.

“I suppose.” Kira conceded.

 

While Worf noticed and recognized the disgruntled look on Kira’s face that made her appear as if she was choking back every word, Jadzia was completely oblivious to the other woman's lame protests.

 

Annoyed at his partner for being so insensitive, Worf interrupted them again. “You can begin your experiment at any time.”

 

This effectively distracted Dax long enough for Kira to hastily turn away and try and douse her failing composure.

 

“I’m talking to, Kira.” Jadzia remarked through a clenched jaw. Which was her way of effectively telling him to butt out.

 

“You’re not talking . You’re gossiping.” He said sternly. “And besides, Odo is quite capable of taking care of himself.”

 

At this show of male support both women smiled knowingly back at him. Much to the Klingon’s dismay.

 

“Don’t shout across the room.” Jadzia said disarmingly. “If you want to…. Gossip with us than come down here.”

 

Just then the Captain moseyed into the space looking for Odo who was late for a long-distance conference call with Starfleet Intelligence.

 

“I guess he’s running late.” Kira mumbled.

 

“Odo is never late.” Benjamin remarked, smelling a story as he looked at Dax whom he knew perfectly well was the best source for all juicy information.

 

“True but he’s never spent the night with a woman before either.” Dax offered, this time it was in Kazon’s manner more than anyone else.

 

“A woman. How nice.” The Captain remarked as he exchanged knowing looks with Dax, before seeing the look of Kira’s face. “Isn’t it?”

 

Kira turned red like a slighted schoolgirl until everyone was interrupted by the appearance of the man in question.

 

Literally everyone in the space turned their eyes on him expectantly.

 

“Good morning?” Odo remarked as he noticed everyone suddenly avert their eyes trying to act casual as the Captain reminded him of their appointment.

 

Odo didn’t bother to dignify their looks with further commentary, it was clear the old gossip mill was in grand form that morning and for once Odo didn’t care a wit if people were talking about him. He was a man on a mission.

 

From then on out it was business as usual. Odo sent an apology to Gaven who simply told him to carry on and that everything was fine on the home front. Although the Arissa business was in the forefront of his mind there was still everyday work to be done. Reports to review, cases to close, etc. and with Arissa secured for the time being Odo knew there wasn’t anything he could do just then but stay the course. He’d spent the morning briefing Starfleet intelligence about the activities of the Orion Syndicate and was awaiting further instructions from them. All in all, Odo did what Odo did best and remained a consummate professional through and through.

 

Near the middle of his day Odo suddenly found himself being visited by a representative of the Idanian government. Knowing how secretive and careful they were, it was an unexpected and worrisome surprise. The man known as Thran was looking for Arissa and swiftly explained to Odo the truth of her identity and how she was an Idanian Government operative that had been tasked with infiltrating the Orion Syndicate to especially target Driam and his illegal activities. The catch was Arissa had no memory of her real identity or life. The Idanians had wipe her memory, placing her actual identity and memories within the crystal she had been seeking.

 

Odo took all this information in stride, at first struggling to believe it. And yet, how could he risk Arissa’s safety if it were true? It was imperative that Odo cooperate with the Idanians. Even if he didn’t fully understand the depth of what was going on. But first it was important Odo secure the crystal, and so that was the first place they went.

 

When they arrived, they discovered Chief O’brien laid out on the floor. He’d been incapacitated while studying the crystal, by none other than Arissa herself. Unbeknownst to anyone while Odo had been away, Arissa had contacted Driam intending to strike a deal with him. The data crystal for her freedom.

 

With Tehran’s help they were able to trace the crystals frequency to Arissa’s rendezvous point with her would be assassins. Predictably they had no intention of letting Arissa leave the cargo hold alive. Luckily Odo arrived at the last minute to dispatch her assailants. Heroically leaping down from a steel beam to fight and disarm them with Thran as back up. Even Arissa got in a good hit or two to help avoid Odo being shot and to help secure the data crystal.

 

“Are you all right?” Odo asked bluntly after he finally punched out the final assassin.

 

“Yes.” Arissa said breathlessly as she held the precious data crystal between her fingers. “I just wish I knew what this is all about.”

 

Later, once the thugs had been taken into custody; the Captain, Odo, and Thran gathered in the infirmary while Julian assisted in the memory transfer operation to bring back the real woman who had until then been known only as Arissa to everyone else.

 

“The data transfer should only take a few minutes now.” Julian said gently as he finished placing the crystal into the data port before stepping away.

 

“How long was she under cover?” Benjamin asked compassionately as Odo stared on, looking miserable behind them all in the archway.

 

“She volunteered for the operation two years ago.” Thran answered.

 

He then went on to explain the situation. How her memories had been wiped to bypass the risk of suspicion when Driam used his telepaths to probe her. He spoke about her mission with refined passion as if everything had gone exactly to plan in the minds of the Idanian Government. This was met by criticism from both Benjamin and Odo. Benjamin because he didn’t appreciate the Idanian government using his space station as a backdrop for their real-life spy game and Odo because he was incensed by Thran’s attitude regarding Arissa’s safety during their end game.

 

To all of it, Thran simply shrugged. Remarking that Arissa knew the risks when she’d signed up for the mission and that because of their efforts they would be able to now take Driam’s organization completely apart and possibly end the corruption of the Orion Syndicate all together.

 

“The transfer is complete.” Julian interjected quietly. “I’m going to take her to Doctor Fisk in surgery now. It should be a relatively simple procedure.”

 

It was nearly evening before Odo saw her again. The woman formerly known as Arissa. Now She appeared to him as the Idanian Clarissa. Her real appearance having been restored. Odo hadn’t expected her to come looking for him back in the room they had briefly occupied together as they’d fallen into innocent love. Seeing her now, in her real form, which was no less as beautiful as ever, Odo knew a new pain he had never imagined possible. This was the end. This was goodbye between them.

 

At first, Odo forgot himself and called out to her by her former name before the stabbing realization him his that it was no longer who she was nor who she had ever really been. Even her eyes were different now. The deep cobalt blue replaced by a much paler periwinkle.

 

“There’s something you need to know.” The woman now known as Clarissa said bravely as she stepped towards him. Her own real identity was still fresh upon her. Mingled now with her old memories that she understood where part of her undercover identity. Now when she spoke, she spoke from a place of simple facts. Free of self judgement. “I’m married. I have a husband.”

 

Odo took this blow in stride. Quietly forcing himself to accept the information free of blame or judgement. If he could have cried, he would have been weeping as he spoke.

 

“I’m so sorry.” Clarissa said in a hushed fashion as she watched him torturously process his sense of loss.

 

“Don’t be.” Odo replied, there was just a hint of that boyish innocence in his tone as he defended her.

 

“You didn’t know. It’s not your fault.” He finished more strongly sounding more like his normal self as his resolve kicked in, strengthening him. “I fell in love with a woman who never really existed.”

 

Clarissa could see how painful it was for him to say it, and it prompted her to move closer to reassure him the only way she knew how.

 

“She did exist.” Clarissa corrected him as the tears he wasn’t capable of shedding fell for them both from her eyes. “And she loved you. In a way...She still does.”

 

It was the very thing they both knew Odo needed to hear to make peace between them and when he embraced her it was in acceptance and compassion of their mutual loss.

 

“Will I ever see you again?” He dared to ask her as they held each other, both looking off into the distance within their own minds.

 

Clarissa pulled back to look at him now.

 

“I...don’t know.” She admitted. “I’ll never forget you, Odo. Never.”

 

Her last words came out like a whisper on a brittle breeze and on that same breeze she gently turned away and left him. Odo could only watch helplessly as she departed before he simply turned away and gazed out into the stars.

 

Much later, maybe when he knew that Clarissa was well and truly gone from the station and his life, did he finally go home.

 

Gaven had been sleeping, propped up half against a beam while he lounged on the floor in Odo’s apartment. His fingers dangling into Kajel’s bucket where the young changeling slept completely oblivious to Odo’s return.

 

Gaven stirred of course, when Odo appeared in the space. Unlike everyone else he had only the vaguest notion of what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. Yet when he saw the forlorn look on Odo’s face, a look that had once so resembled his own, Gaven knew without having to ask what the other man was feeling. Gently pulling his hand out of Kajel’s bucket, Gaven fought carefully to stand before he approached Odo who had stopped numbly in the center of the room.

 

“Come on, my friend.” Gaven said gently as he neared Odo and used his free arm to hug around Odo’s shoulders side long. “The bucket can wait for a while longer. For once, why don’t you try the bedroom.”

 

Odo allowed Gaven to lead him into the adjacent room, where Gaven promptly sealed the door behind them to effectively mute that which was assuredly coming, from disturbing Kajel. It was the fruitless abject sounds of complete and profound suffering, the likes only others who had been through it as well were prepared to bravely weather coupled with the thudy sounds of a room that was being torn apart before a deafening kind of silence took hold and the nearly inaudible sound of Gaven's empathetic words allowed Odo's pain to flow cleanly if not easily through him.

 

Notes:

This is the conclusion of the season 5 episode "A simple Investigation." In the original outline of this fic, I never intended to touch on this episode. But in revisions I realized that with the addition of the changeling baby I almost had to do some kind of nod to it. It was an important episode for the Odo character even if aspects of it, in my opinion, where poorly written and executed. In terms of the bigger picture, It was important for me to establish the introduction of Kajel to Molly O'brien. That scene WAS in the original outline and the necessity of it will become apparent at a later time. I admit that there's alot of rehashing of what was actually in the episode but sometimes having existing events novelized brings about its own rewards. I admit, I'm glad I got to take a closer look at the feelings from this episode. It made me appreciate their significance more.

One major flaw I would like to point out in the executing of this episode was the scene where Odo interrupts Bashir in the Holosuite. While the lines from that scene were some of the funniest in the episode, I chose to cut it out and go right into the cute scene because I realized it didn't make sense to keep it. In an earlier part of the episode, it's remarked that Miles and Dax were tasked with figuring out how to access the data crystal and yet the next scene contradicts this since Miles and, presumably, Dax where with Julian playing out his spy novel. No it's possible that they had briefly been called away to work on the crystal, but it's a stretch even for me to justify. So there you go.

Chapter 29: The Man Who Always Lies

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Man Who Always Lies

 

Not surprisingly, Gaven didn’t show up in the infirmary all that day. Instead, he spent most of the late morning with Odo quietly listening to an explanation of the Arissa/Clarissa case and the intimate details of Odo’s personal entanglement in the situation. Odo had to tell someone about it, someone who didn’t have a personal stake in the business and who wouldn’t feel the need to gossip about his experience or the feelings that had been stirred up in the usually so controlled man.

 

This of course came after Odo had utterly wrecked up the bedroom.

 

The very sight of the large bed he’d once slept in as a solid had momentarily driven him mad with what it symbolized for him now. All the while Gaven had weathered the situation without remark or reaction to his uncharacteristic outburst, merely side stepping on occasion to avoid getting hit with debris. To Odo’s deepest gratitude Gaven hadn’t tried to stop him or reason with him about his actions. Only when it was all over and they could sit in the aftermath, did they have their long discussion. Gaven had mostly listened during this. but eventually Odo had wanted and needed his reassurance. The simple reassurance of not being the only one that had ever loved and lost.

 

Since being on the station, Gaven had never talked about his now dead bondmate. Apart from a series of discussions he’d had with Benjamin Sisko on the subject as they’d privately gotten to know each other. Benjamin was his handler for Sarfleet and had the advantage of being a widower in his own right. Technically, Gaven had also told Julian several stories about his life with Lopel while he was comatose but, as of yet, the Doctor showed no signs that he had any tangible recollection of anything Gaven had said to him on the subject.

 

When they were finally through, the Oum and the Changeling felt like they understood each other enough for a deeper more real respect to grow between them.

 

It was true that their situations were vastly different, of course.

 

Gaven had been with Lopel for what some species would have considered the lesser half of a lifetime, whereas, Odo had only just met the object of his first taste of love. Gaven cautioned him against minimizing his feelings on the subject. “First love” was a special kind of rite of passage no matter how brief. This had greatly comforted Odo. To have someone tell him it was alright to think the experience had been special and to experience the loss for the loss it had been. For Odo’s part, he now understood Gaven in a way that had just been conjecture before. He understood now why Gaven’s grief was so pronounced and why, as an Oum capable of emotionally and mentally healing in a way that would have made many envious of his abilities, he had refrained from softening his torments.  

 

“To lose the bad, would be to also lose all that was good about who and what we were.” Gaven had said simply.

 

Eventually when neither of them had anything left that they wanted to say, Odo thanked him for the favor he had done him which far surpassed simple babysitting and encouraged him to go home.

 

“What are you going to do with this space now?” Gaven had asked as Odo walked him to the door.

 

“I...Was thinking it would be a good play room and private space for Kajel.” Odo had muttered. “For the future.”

 

“I think that is a good idea. In the meantime, try to get some rest Mr. Odo. Doctor’s Orders. Maybe take a day off. If anyone protests, you can always send them my way. I’ve returned to my medical duties for the time being as you probably know.” Gaven explained.

 

“Yes. I thought you might...Come up with a creative reason to stay. Welcome back, Doctor. I hope you plan to take a day yourself. For your health.” Odo remarked in his knowing way.

 

“I think I will, Mr. Odo. I think I will.” Gaven had agreed.

 

~@~

 

“You’re going rock climbing with Gaven tomorrow?” Dax repeated while she and Julian took lunch together at Dax’s favorite Klingon restaurant.  

 

“Mmhm. It’s a leveled program designed for free solo climbers. Basically, roughing it without ropes and the likes.” Julian explained. “The upper levels are remarkably challenging, but it’s considered an introductory program.”

 

“So, he’s an outdoorsy type. Well that certainly is nice to know. I’ll have to tell Worf about it. He’s always looking for training partners and for new programs to try. The two would probably get along.” Dax remarked. “Why are you making that face?”

 

“Hm?” Julian had been frowning slightly as if he was thinking briefly about something unpleasant, but as soon as Dax interrupted the thought his expression relaxed again. “Oh. No, it’s nothing, I’m just a bit surprised is all.”

 

“About his choice in hobbies? Why? Doctor Ore is an athletic man. Granted we don’t have any comparison, but he seems to keep himself pretty well conditioned and I’m sure it's more through personal discipline than anything else. Very well-conditioned, in fact.” Dax emphasized, briefly referencing Gaven’s attractive and somewhat impressive physique despite his often haggard looks in the past.

 

Julian resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her. While he often got accused of being a superficial rake about people, Dax could put him to utter shame when she wanted to with her wandering eye and overly experienced appreciations for others aesthetic qualities.

 

“You can roll your tongue up off the table any time, you know.” Julian remarked.

 

“Oh, stop it. You don’t think he’s the slightest bit impressive?” Dax teased. “Face it Julian, Doctor Ore is the complete package. He’s handsome in that brooding haunted serious kind of way, tall, incredibly open minded, intelligent but understated, emotionally complex, highly capable, utterly considerate and he’s just so, so...Genuine. Everything else aside to his credit, it’s my favorite quality about him. This could be a golden opportunity for you. You’ve always complained how you’ve never quite managed to become friends.”

 

“Gaven doesn’t make friends.” Julian pointed out. “He collects admirers.”

 

Dax gave Julian a quizzical look as if she didn’t understand something in his tone. “Are you alright, Julian? What’s going on with you today?”

 

“What? Nothing. I’m fine.” Julian insisted.

 

Dax just looked at him, clearly unconvinced.

 

Her expression forced him to have to take a quick emotional inventory. It was a technique he’d been going over with Doctor Fisk in therapy when he found he either couldn’t identify what he was feeling or couldn’t pinpoint why. In practicing this behavior Julian realized something he hadn’t realized he was feeling.

 

“I guess, I’m nervous. I like Doctor Ore but despite the things we’ve experienced together and the working relationship we have there’s always been something in the way of us really becoming friends. I’ve always gotten the mild impression he disapproves of me somehow. Not...In full, but just in little ways. And then out of the blue he extends this olive branch and...I know I should be happy. Excited. I am excited. I just...Every time we try to do something together, I bumble it somehow or it turns into a crisis.” He confided.

 

“Maybe you like him more than you think.” Dax observed seriously and non-judgmentally. “And maybe you should talk to him about how you feel in general. Doctor. Ore cares about you, Julian. I mean...He spends more time with you than he does anyone else on the station, collectively. When you got hurt, he was like a man possessed. The pressure to bring you back to us was unreal and I sort of feel bad that most of us didn’t do more to support him during his efforts and after them. He got so sick. And...If you want my personal opinion, I think of any of us he’s always looked out for you in particular it seems. Maybe there’s something more to that, maybe not. Don’t you think it would be interesting to find out?”

 

Julian took his time absorbing all of this. There was a lot to unpack in what Dax had said. More to unpack than their lunch time could accommodate. Naturally though, Dax’s probing required a response from him, and it was easiest to latch on to the first and primary point to her speech.

 

“I’m not interested in Gaven like that.” Julian muttered quietly as he poked at his food.

 

“I never implied that you were.” Dax replied. “Have you ever considered the possibility that Gaven might, on some tiny little level, have feelings for you? It could be why you both struggle with each other so much on a personal level. I’m just putting it out there.”

 

“That’s...Unlikely.” Julian said slowly.

 

“If you say so.” Dax shrugged. “In any case, I certainly am convinced now that he prefers the company of men over women in general. Besides, whatever the truth really is, he’s clearly not over his lost love. So, one way or another your probably safe to go on dancing around each other for a good long while.”

 

“Lost love?” Julian perked up at this new information.

 

“Quiet, I shouldn’t even be mentioning it since it’s not my information to tell. Benjamin told me about it. Not the details, just that Gaven was partnered before and that his…. Life mate, died.”

 

Julian was both surprised and yet not surprised by this information.

 

Gaven had never talked about his relationships on Oum to anyone on the station. At least it had mostly seemed that way. Truly little personal information had ever been revealed and what was known information among the higher officers had been limited at best. There were several implications that were outlined in the data books Gaven had created for them about his culture, but no one had ever asked him about his exact status on Oum, how he had lived, and so on apart from the Captain.

 

Julian never really thought until now about how little they all actually knew about Gaven on a personal level. Yet it was startling to realize how much he had absorbed about them. How much he had become a part of all their personal lives. To one degree or another they’d all just let him remain present but removed from them. So unobtrusive was his presence most of the time. Yet his contributions to their lives so far were significant. He’d saved Julian’s life, been there for Kira during the birth of the O’Brien’s son. He’d saved Kajel and was responsible for Odo’s chance to be a father. He’d thoughtfully sent presents and well wishes whenever someone was celebrating a personal achievement or special event...And yet Julian realized he wasn’t even sure how old Gaven was exactly or what any of his personal interests were outside of his obvious talents and projects. He doubted that most everyone else couldn’t say much better.

 

For all of this, Julian felt quietly ashamed.

 

How could they all so easily take Gaven for granted like that? Gaven deserved better from them all. Don’t dwell. Focus on what you have immediate control over. Julian reminded himself, after which he took a deep breath and silenced his spiraling thoughts to refocus on their conversation.

 

“Now that it’s not a big secret anymore that he’s an alien working with Starfleet, we’d all do well to do better by him.” Julian remarked. “For my part, that means rock climbing for now.”

 

Dax seemed satisfied with this response and ultimately, she had to go back to work anyway so their conversation ended for the time being with the promise she’d follow up with Julian the next day and that she expected full details.

 

Julian remained behind not quite done with his lunch. He had hardly eaten any of it. Klingon food wasn’t exactly his favorite to begin with and their in-depth conversation had completely caused him to talk more than eat. Now his food was all but forgettable as he continued to ponder what Dax had said.

 

“I and Gaven, attracted to each other.” Julian scoffed dismissively as he quietly muttered under his breath and forced himself to eat the rest of his now cold meal.

 

~@~

 

Upon returning home from Odo’s, Gaven slept for the remainder of the day and into the exceedingly early morning of the next day. It was the first completely peaceful sleep he’d had since arriving on the station. In many ways some of the psychological processing that going into stasis had force on him was admittedly a welcome respite. For once, all his personal troubles and painful feelings seemed far away. Though still intellectually aware of all of them, the point of the Oum ability was to temporarily anesthetize their stronger emotions and traumas in order to create a sense of distance and to assist in the process of removing judgement from a given experience and to accept it as a simple fact about one's life.

 

Until now Gaven had resisted the discipline.

 

He hadn’t wanted to distance himself from some of his experiences and feelings, no matter how disabling they were. Sometimes though, there wasn’t the option of choice. Under certain circumstances, the Oum mind could spontaneously bring about a waking purge like the one he’d started to slip into when Cheval had found him nearly out of himself when his reproductive cycle had first kicked back in. Likewise, being in stasis also forced the processing of some lingering experiences, though, depending on how long he remained in the state, what he processed was randomized.

 

The effect on Gaven was the manifestation and more true representation of his core personality. He, in essence, came off far more relaxed, quietly playful, and far more forbearing than he usually displayed. Most importantly he got to enjoy his moment-to-moment experiences without being bombarded with his heavier memories, feelings, and circumstances.  Just existing and being permitted the chance to enjoy it fully was something Gaven hadn’t experienced fully since long before he left Oum.

 

Gaven’s sleep had been blissfully devoid of dreams. He had slept and then made himself a close duplicate to one of his favorite home meals. A hearty bread cake sweetened with a lavender-like honey-based glaze. Gaven paired this with a dark decaffeinated coffee blend he’d gotten into the habit of drinking since being on the station and read for an hour while he ate. After his breakfast Gaven sifted through his wardrobe with mild dissatisfaction. Almost everything he owned was dull and gray and certainly none of it was in the style of his people. For the longest time Gaven had been living like the exiled refugee that he was. He didn’t really have anything of his own. The only memento that had come with him off Oum had been his meditation crystals and light box that housed a digital projection of he and Lopel.

 

Up until now all of it had served his incognito necessities and his depression, but now that he was exposed as a mysterious alien working with the Starfleet instead of a mysterious human doctor no one had ever heard of, Gaven thought it was perhaps wise to let a little of his old individuality back into his expression. Clothing was an easy and good place to start and Starfleet had been nice enough to afford him a humble stipend for his work with them that he’d hardly touched. For now, a few new pieces would do. At some point he thought he might talk to Julian or Fisk about reversing the cosmetic alterations he’d undergone to appear human. Then again...He might not. He’d gotten used to his human features and there wasn’t a great deal of difference between his original appearance and the one he had now.

 

Gaven was wise enough not to jump too quickly into the deep end. His current state of mind was only temporary and unless he kept up with his purging meditations, it would be impossible to sustain his present state long term. It was something to think about.

 

A few new pairs of clothes wouldn’t hurt though. Something for special occasions and to wear around the house at least. Gaven had avoided going out over much since he’d been exposed but for once he felt like it wouldn’t be so bad. A little stroll down the promenade. Some window shopping perhaps. He was due to meet Julian in a few hours. Not that meeting up with him in his current mood had anything to do with his sudden preoccupation with his appearance.

 

When he was ready, Gaven grabbed the hooded Jacket Fisk had given him, his smaller medical bag which he’d gotten in the habit of carrying with him always, and his forearm crutch. He was back to just one for now and headed towards the promenade. To Gaven’s satisfaction practically everyone paid him no mind either because he was unobtrusive enough to go largely unnoticed or hopefully because people had enough good sense to avoid picking a fight with him. Naturally, Gaven was heading to Garak’s shop. His reputation for being the best tailor on the station well preceded him.

 

Garak was putting the final touches on the hem of a stunning gold-lame’ gown accented with a hand crafted emerald beaded collar. Under anyone else’s craftsmanship the sweeping gown would have seemed bawdy, but under Garak’s creative mastery and delicate skill it was boudoir worthy piece fit for someone with the regality and cunning sex appeal of Cleopatra. It was a masterpiece.

 

All Garak’s projects were. It was the beauty of his depraved genius.

 

Gaven was still outside the shop when Garak’s hawk like attention caught sight of him through the window display as he studied one of the display pieces on the other side.

 

His delight at having Gaven so unexpectedly appear at his doorstep when it was otherwise going to be a dreary day of fine tuning, proved so delicious to the Cardassian that he very nearly missed a stitch with the pleasure of thinking about it.

 

“Doctor Ore. What a divine surprise.” Garak said after he’d hurriedly come to the front and opened his door for him, encouraging Gaven to come inside.

 

“Hello. I’m sorry to disturb you. I see you’ve closed your shop for the day.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Only technically. For you, Doctor? My door is always open. What do I owe to this unexpected visitation?” True to his nature among those he greatly liked or was fascinated by Garak immediately took Gaven’s free arm very personably and ushered him further into his shop.

 

Gaven permitted this gesture, he knew Garak had a certain reputation for pageantry and the Cardassian did not disappoint him.  

 

“I was thinking of engaging you in a commission. Nothing extravagant, I just…” Gaven began.

 

“Mm. Your finally ready to emerge like a butterfly from your cocoon of intrigue and mystery. How delightful. I’m pleased to see it. How may I assist in your endeavors? I know. A new suit. Or maybe something more understated but with a pop.” Garak said theatrically.

 

“I’d prefer to keep it simple for now. I don’t require much, and I can’t say I’m familiar with your rates. I did bring a few references along. Picking colors is a little tricky. Please excuse my ignorance. Gaven pulled a folded paper from his breast pocket and set the small wooden box he’d bought down along with his medical bag.

 

Garak instantly offered him a seat before eagerly taking the paper from him with a few designs on them.

 

“I am open to suggestions but if you think you could recreate something along those lines, I’d be most grateful.” Gaven said after settling.

 

“Simple and yet elegant. It would be an extremely easy project. Have you a color in mind?” Garak asked as he immediately went to his table and quickly sketched a more detailed outline of what Gaven had given him.

 

“I don’t know what it’s called here but I was thinking something like this.” Gaven opened the wooden box and presented its contents to Garak who took the box from him with deep interest.

 

“Mulberry. An inspired choice. I’m glad to know you have such refined taste, Doctor. Mulberry is a superb color choice for those captivating green eyes of yours. You must allow me to do a suit for you using the shade, as a personal gift from me to you. The others I can have completed for you the day after tomorrow if that would please you.” Gaven nodded and Garak briefly negotiated the price of the commission which he deeply underquoted simply because he could, and it pleased him to do so in this instance.

 

“Now, let us forget about business. It just so happens that I’m done with my work for the day.” Garak lied. “And would love to take this opportunity to get to know you. That is, if you have time for a chat?”

 

“I do, as a matter of fact, and I’m glad we finally have the chance to become acquainted. I’m sure you’re actually terribly busy right now.” Gaven remarked, suspecting that the shop was closed to allow Garak time to finish what was probably a large and complex commission. It was early yet and Gaven figured the man had been planning to work for several more hours.

 

Caught in his simple lie, Garak knew then and there how it would be between them.

 

Gaven was deliciously perceptive and so blatantly honest that it was cutting to the senses. He had no need or desire to hide his capabilities which Garak could tell on instinct were vast, not unlike himself. And so, the man who always lied and the man who always told the truth were now to face off.

 

“Have you been enjoying your time on the station, Doctor?” Garak asked pulling up another chair to sit near him.

 

“No. But some of the people have been very nice.” Gaven remarked honestly with just a tinge of irony.

 

“Mm. In between a rock and a hard place now, I would imagine. It must have been torturous for you to lie about yourself all this time. Not that I’m complaining. Things have been far more interesting around here, since your arrival.” Garak couldn’t help but to start pushing buttons, if only for the sake of seeing which if any triggered any interesting reactions.

 

Gaven smiles slowly and slightly feeling the psychological prod. He’d heard rumors about Garak. Mostly that he was an exiled spy and a pathological liar. Certainly, Garak was a liar. But Gaven might have hesitated to call it a pathological affliction. He doubted Garak habitually lied just for the sake of lying. He was too intelligent and self-serving for that.

 

Gaven shrugged, ignoring Garak’s bait.

 

“Starfleet likes to protect what they feel belongs to them. I’m sure that they were afraid that if my origins and identity was openly known it might attract other unwanted players to the playground. There is something to be said, Mr. Garak, about playing the hand one is dealt. Regardless, of whether it’s a good hand or not.” Gaven muttered before plucking up a mulberry and popping it into his mouth.

 

“Oh, indeed. I know just what you mean.” Garak said with fine edged sincerity. “You certainly seem to have a knack for keeping people on their toes. What a pity that Starfleet has felt the need to keep you all to themselves.”

 

”Better that people stay on their toes than end up laid out on their backs.” Gaven muttered.

 

“Mm. Yes. Though I suppose it rather depends, now doesn’t it.” The double entendre was not lost for a moment on Garak who loved to make even the most innocent of things sound and seem torrid and vice versa.

 

“You know, I never got to thank you properly for the things you’ve done? I consider Julian Bashir to be a close personal friend of mine and I have it on good authority that you saved his life. I can’t begin to tell you how thankful I am to you.” Garak was observing him very acutely now without coming off like he was.

 

Gaven could feel his attentions though, as surely as he had felt it once when Garak had caught his gaze awhile back will passing by the infirmary during Julian’s recovery. While he knew Garak and Julian were good friends and like many on the station Garak was probably relieved that Julian had made it through, thanking him now for it was not the real purpose of bringing Julian up in this instance.

 

“Julian saved himself, I just kept him together long enough for him to commit to living. Given how close the two of you are, I’m sure you know how strong he is.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Yes. He does have his moments and he certainly thinks highly enough of himself. But he’s also young and like most young people there’s a certain belief in one's own invincibility that, at times, is hazardous to his health. You and I, were much older and wiser about these things.” Garak patted Gaven's hand.

 

“Older, yes. Wiser? Mmm. I'm sure we'd both like to flatter ourselves. Let us call it, a sharper appreciation for self-preservation rather than wisdom.” Gaven proposed.

 

“Indeed. I like that.” Garak remarked, silently noting the steel in Gaven’s choice of words. He was hinting at a core personal motivation. Survival. That’s what it was all about. Garak reasoned. It was something concrete they had in common. Like Gaven, Garak was also a survivor and someone willing to go to exceedingly extreme lengths to do so.

 

“I must tell you, I’m rather surprised that you live here on the station.” Gaven admitted.

 

“Really? Why is that.” Garak had his suspicions but was curious to see what Gaven intended to reveal.

 

Gaven could have remarked that Garak was a Cardassian and the complexities of living somewhere where so many people had a personal reason to resent at hate him. He was the only Cardassian that seemed permanently fixed to the station since before Starfleet had come into possession of it. But Gaven didn’t point any of that out. Instead, he wanted to comment on something that had come to his attention the last time Dukat had been there. Gaven had treated Dukat for minor injuries attributed to a little space scuffle he’d claimed to have been in. The men had gotten off to a snarky start thanks greatly to the fact that Gaven had come to Garak’s defense in Quark’ss when Dukat had assaulted him and threatened to tip him off the balcony for his involvement with Dukat’s daughter. After that, Dukat had taken a testy and suspicious attitude towards Gaven and later had done nothing but pointedly complained about his doctoring even if, deep down, like everyone else Gaven helped, he found himself impressed by the Doctor’s abilities and manner.

 

“When Dukat was here, he complained a great deal about the environmental controls in the infirmary. Since I am interested in the personal comfort of my patients, I decided to investigate the matter. Mostly I thought to examine Cardassia’s general climate. It would seem your natural climate is far more arid and hotter than anything here and the dust in the upper atmosphere limits the amount of sunlight saturation. I would think, it’s terrible for you to be here on the station by comparison since the general environmental settings are more likened to temperate parts of Earth or Bajor.” Gaven observed.

 

It was the last thing Garak would have expected him to say.

 

“Ah well I admit, I do greatly miss my homeworld for various nostalgic reasons, and you're quite right. The current settings here on the station are by no means ideal. But one does find ways to get used to things outside of one's control and I’ve managed to make do with my situation. Rest assured.” Garak rattled off in a breezy manner that by no means reflected how he actually felt about the subject.

 

“Yes. One does find ways to live.” Gaven echoed.

 

“Despite the stations many inadequacies for someone like myself, I happen to make a comfortable enough living here and I do enjoy my friends. Although I won’t bother to indulge myself by asking where it is you specifically hail from, Doctor, am I under the correct impression that you never intend to go back to wherever it is you’re from?” Garak of course had eventually weaseled the truth out of Quark about what he knew of the doctor, the rest was easy enough to figure out.

 

Gaven had to have been expelled from his planet which made him far more interesting than for any other detail mostly because Gaven came off as such a nice kind of person. Honest. Ethical. Contained. Gaven was so delectably contained. Impenetrable. For a moment Garak allowed himself the indulgence of imagining what it might take to break someone like him. No doubt, some had already tried.

 

It was Gaven's turn to study the man. All the Cardassians he'd met so far seemed a mixture of slyness and dignity. Apart from Ziyal who's Bajoran blood and upbringing softened her considerably. Garak was beyond sly. He was a master at manipulation, misdirection, and subterfuge. It was no wonder that Julian Bashir found the Cardassian so appealing.

 

Garak was a certifiable crocodile, Gaven observed. A disturbingly charming one. He also was the kind of person, Gaven suspected, who remembered his debts and the favors that were owed him.

 

“No. Mr. Garak. I have no intention of ever going home again.” He confirmed evenly.

 

The way Gaven said it spoke volumes. Garak realized he must have lost everything he had. Maybe long before he’d ever left his homeworld. It was why going back had absolutely no appeal for him. The most dangerous man in the world, was a man that had nothing left to lose but his literal life. Garak wondered again at how such a person was to be leveraged and worked on. He wondered what a man like Gaven might come to care about and the kind of person capable of touching him. The doctor was terribly appealing. Not unlike Julian was to Garak, though for different reasons. Garak had always admired the younger doctor’s boyish appearance and charms. His hungry inquisitiveness. His eager heart. His foolishness. He imagined it must have been quite comical to have Julian thrown together with Gaven who, for the most part, was quite different from him. Where’s Garak was furiously protective of Julian and would have taken tremendous care with him if he ever had the opportunity, Gaven was someone Garak felt compelled to test and try. There was something about him. Garak couldn’t quite put his finger on it just then. He just knew that he very much wanted to see more of the man.

 

“Well, that’s a shame. I suspect you’re homeworld has no idea what they’ve given up. Their loss is our gain. You must come have a drink with me sometime, Doctor. From one exile to another.”

 

“I’d like that, Mr. Garak. Thank you.” Gaven had decided by now he liked the man. He liked anyone intimately connected with Julian and besides, he understood that Garak wanted to study him and that it was safer to allow him his satisfaction.

 

Garak was not a person to be taken lightly. By many accounts he was a rogue and a dangerous criminal. Gaven supposed his relationships to people where likely highly individualized and it occurred to Gaven, based on these impressions, that as extravagant as Garak's favor could be, he could also be viciously and deviously cruel. It was a duality that Gaven had come to understand and trust in.

 

 

Chapter 30: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty: Between A Rock and a Hard Place

 

“It'll be fine. You look fine. Just show up, let him do the talking, relax, and enjoy. That's all there is to it.” Julian coached himself as he prepared to meet Gaven.

 

For once he wanted things to go right between them. Julian glanced into the wall mirror one more time as he prepared to leave. Gaven had instructed him to dress for hiking and to pack a light dinner. Julian kept his look casual. Tan organic cotton and black running shorts. Gaven had estimated that their activity would take about four hours. That included the climb and an hour break to eat. Plenty of opportunity to take their time. Though Julian had been a star athlete in his adolescence and had kept up with some conditioning as an adult, rock climbing was not a sport he was deeply familiar with. Gaven had been nice enough to send him the full specs of the program ahead of time as well as some reference articles promising they wouldn’t be doing anything too challenging but only jumping in could fully prepared him. A ten- or fifteen-foot climb meant for beginner skill levels? Julian wondered just how experienced Gaven was.

 

After looking over everything a second time it all seemed easy enough.

 

Julian arrived promptly at the agreed upon time at their Holosuite. Not surprisingly Gaven was already there waiting for him in a leaning position up against the outside. His hands were loosely fisted in the pockets of his linen slacks and the sleeves of his matching linen shirt were rolled to the bicep. Julian noted he was barefoot and that his knee and thigh had been carefully wrapped to allow for support without hindering flexibility. A canvas backpack was resting near his feet. Julian exhaled. He’d never seen Gaven look so relaxed and casual before. His dark curls were still too long, Julian noted, and he was still on the thin side. But none of that took away from his natural beauty. In fact, the gauntness caused by his recent ordeal only seemed to enhance it. Julian noticed because he hadn’t seen Gaven face to face in a while. As was usual between them, the second something happened to bring them intimately close they suddenly found it hard to mesh their schedules after. Julian wanted to tell himself it was unintentional between them, but he knew better than that.

 

This time, Julian felt uncertain how to approach the waiting man.

 

In the past he might have tried for a bouncy kind of exuberance, sweeping friendliness, a bit of wittiness, or possibly even a direct cerebral approach but suddenly in the light of this moment all those options seemed contrived and false. Julian certainly didn’t feel any of those things. Instead, he felt shy and self-conscious and so he approached slowly and quietly watching for cues within Gaven’s own expressions as to the tone of their little adventure.

 

“Hello Julian.” Gaven said peacefully. “Shall we?”

 

Gaven stepped aside for Julian, who was more familiar with the mechanics of the Holosuite.

 

“Hello Gaven. You’re looking well. Feeling more yourself, I hope.” Julian remarked.

 

Gaven didn’t answer in words. Instead, he smiled lightly and nodded.

 

“Good.” Julian muttered before cuing up the program for them and initiating it.

 

A second later the doors opened to admit them.

 

The scene inside was a simple natural setting. They appeared to be in a small canyon like a location similar to one that might have been found in southeast Utah on Earth. Though the canyon was nondescript enough to have been fashioned after any sandstone canyon from any standard planet. The details were pretty, and Julian could easily tell that this level was made for beginners. There were many easy handholds, flat areas to sit or stand on, and since it was a Holosuite program the fifteen-foot height was an illusion. At best they’d be climbing only five or six feet off the ground at any given time.  

 

“So, have you ever been in one of these before?” Julian asked in a casual attempt to break the ice and because he really was curious.

 

“No. The entire concept is a complete novelty. My people don’t use holographic technology in any form.” Gaven replied.

 

“Not much for escapism?” Julian said offhandedly as he set his things down and took some time to study the canyon face.

 

“As you’ve seen, altered states are something we do anyway. The rest of the time the Oum prefer to stay as present as possible.” Gaven said speaking in generalities as he fished a bag of climbing powder out of his backpack.

 

“What about you personally? What sort of things do you enjoy?” Julian wanted to steer them away from talking about Gaven’s people and more towards Gaven talking about himself.

 

“I’m fond of the natural world. Mostly quiet open places. It’s funny because I didn’t like being out of doors when I was young. I was something of a nervous child. Shy. I didn’t enjoy being unkept or uncomfortable. The summers on Oum could be quite humid at times where we were and long. I prefer the dryer heat. But since Lopel was rarely in the house when we were young, Gulevere, his sire, insisted I be out of the house as much as possible as well at first.” Gaven remarked passing over the powder.

 

Julian felt like he should know who these people were and something on the edge of his mind vibrated with some distant and unfocused familiarity that he failed to pull up in his recall. “Were they your family?”

 

Gaven smiled and nodded. “In a fashion, yes. I suppose you could say that Gulevere and Lopel were like a father and son. There was also Gulevere’s mate Verda and her bondservant Hadna. Lopel was just a few years older than I when I was taken into their household. I remember the business was a bit rushed. Verda had been resistant.”

 

“Why?” Julian felt confused.

 

“It’s hard to say. Until recently I admit I’ve never tried to pinpoint her exact distaste for me. But perhaps, and I have no proof of this by any span, perhaps I was an undesirable reminder of the fact that she couldn’t have offspring of her own.” Gaven speculated.

 

“Was she not...A biological contributor to Lopel?” Julian asked, trying to follow along. The genetic and social politics of the Oum people seemed confusing and complex to him.

 

“I don’t know. It’s not uncommon for Oum gentry to apply for surrogate carriers when reproducing. She could have carried him and later lost the ability to carry again which is common. Or she may have been sterile all along. Also, common. In any case she never took to me. We had a somewhat non-existent dynamic where she mostly ignored me all together.” Gaven shrugged, clearly, he was not overly disturbed by their lack of a relationship.

 

“What about Gulevere?” Julian asked.

 

“Our relationship was not entirely warm, but he did care for Lopel and appreciate how seriously I took my purpose for being in his household. He assured that I was thoroughly educated in all the subjects that Lopel was naturally resistant to. I spent a good decade under his personal tutelage when I wasn’t attending to Lopel. Later we disliked each other more strongly. Mostly because he frequently fought with Lopel in his later years...Commonly regarding me.” This time Gaven did frown mildly but he just as quickly shook it off. “Well, ready for this?”

 

“Looks like fun.” Julian agreed.

 

Gaven and Julian took some time formulating a plan and to go over the finer points of free climbing. Gaven explained how technique was generally more important than body strength and that finger strength was an advantage as well. Gaven seemed to like to climb barefoot so that he could more clearly feel the stone and probably because it was a lifelong habit. Gaven went up the five or six feet first to give Julian an idea of what he was doing and how his personal style would be different from Julian’s who was shorter and lighter than he was. Then it was Julian’s turn to follow. Gaven let him experiment as he liked, only intervening when Julian occasionally paused longer than was reasonable. They took their time playing about and experimenting with different routes before both settled on the first alcove to rest.

 

Gaven rooted around in his pack eventually handing over a container of water to Julian.

 

“Thank you.” Julian said his hand trembled slightly as he took the container from Gaven.

 

This was not lost on Gaven.

 

“Hands bothering you?” Gaven asked gently.

 

“A bit, but I’ll manage. This really isn’t bad practice for them. It’s just fatigue.” Julian reassured him.

 

“That’s a relief. I would hate to think I make you nervous.” Gaven remarked only half joking.

 

“Only when you’re on my O.R. table.” Julian quipped.

 

“Fair enough.” Gaven conceded.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Julian said suddenly as he watched Gaven sidelong.

 

Gaven nodded before taking back the container and drinking from it. Even if he hadn’t seen Julian sip from it, he would have known that he had. He could practically taste Julian’s life force on the rim of the container, his energy subtly swirling now in the water. Gaven sighed at the tingling sensation of his lips and waited holding the container between his knees.

 

“When you were in surgery you said something to me. You repeated something, actually, that I had said to you earlier while you were in stasis.” Julian refrained from forming an actual question right away.

 

Gaven took his gaze from the top of the container and slowly settled it on Julian considering him as he did so.

 

“You said we were more alike than different...That we were just two extraordinary people. You knew I would be able to save you if I dropped all my other pretenses. You knew I was an augment, didn’t you? You’ve known for a while and yet you never said anything. Why?” Julian inquired.

 

“I didn’t want to invade your privacy, Julian. And anyway, I didn’t know for sure until you were attacked. We both know you should have never survived as long as you did. Any other human would have died within hours. You made it days. There was only one conclusion I could come to and when I looked into it more, the inconsistencies in your medical records, subtle and well masked as they were along with the subtle scarring I found told its own story. I haven’t said anything because I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. You obviously went to great lengths to hide it. I’m sorry I managed to expose you anyway.”  Gaven said sincerely.

 

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t regret it and, frankly, I’m glad it happened this way.” Julian reassured him quietly.

 

They were silent together for a little while. Taking in the simulated breeze. After a while Gaven glanced at him again.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gaven asked.

 

“About what?” Julian inquired.

 

“About whatever it is that’s bothering you right now, Julian. I can see it in your face.” Gaven encouraged him.

 

Julian sighed. “Oh, Hell. Gaven. I don’t know. It’s silly. Juvenile really...It’s just...Sometimes I feel like you bring me so close into your confidence and yet...I’ve never felt like you consider me your friend. It's silly, I know.”

 

Gaven observed him for a beat. “I'm sorry I've hurt your feelings, Julian. Especially when we first met. I have no excuse for my behavior other than admitting I was in pain and I didn't want to get close to anyone. Least of all someone interested in getting closer to me.”

 

Julian felt has face and neck flush a little. As always Gaven had nailed his thoughts right on their head. It had hurt his feelings whenever Gaven had avoided him or turned down his invitations to socialize.

 

“It's alright, Gaven. I'm sorry I pushed so much in the beginning. I didn't realize what you were going through, and I didn't try to ask you. Maybe we can start over. Clean slate.” Julian swept his hand in front of them for emphasis.

 

“I'd like that.” Gaven agreed.

 

Julian smiled thinly in peaceful satisfaction as he settled back against the rock face. After a moment or two he slowly leaned towards Gaven.

 

“I feel like I was really annoying at first--”

 

“Oh, you were so annoying.” Gaven immediately remarked.

 

“Right, right. Of course.” Julian agreed.

 

“But then again I was reclusive and difficult. You've seen a lot of me at my worst.” Gaven remarked.

 

Julian knew what he was referring to. The incident when he'd made a fool of himself and later caught Gaven as he struggled in the web of his private suffering. Julian had reacted and responded to his emotional needs on instinct even though he hadn't understood the source of his pain. He still didn't understand it really and he knew whatever it was, was still clinging to Gaven and hurting him.

 

He wasn't ready just yet to ask Gaven about it. He certainly didn't want to spoil their pleasant experience together.

 

“Well, you’re not really that unlikable at your worst. Come on. Let's conquer this molehill of a mountain.” He quipped warmly, ready to start again.

 

After they went back to climbing Julian's mind began to dwell on the matter of Gaven's difficult feelings mostly because he wanted to ask something specific but didn't want to let on that Jadzia had told him something in confidence.  Despite this, the next hour passed happily enough. Gaven even raced him once or twice. Eventually, though it was time to eat and rest. Julian's fatigue was getting the best of him. There rock-climbing excursion being the first aggressive exercise he'd gotten since before his attack.

 

As Julian began to tire Gaven helped him along during the final climb to the top catching him by the arm as he struggled to hoist himself over the final edge. Julian appreciated his strength, it made him feel safe as they briefly forgot they were just in the Holosuite.

 

“Gods, I'm out of shape.” Julian huffed as he stayed on the ground, pulled his pack off, and flopped onto his back.

 

“Drink some more water and then we'll eat. And you sure are out of shape. Comas and near-death experiences tend to do that to a person.” Gaven muttered handing him the second water container from his pack before finishing off the first.

 

“Yes, yes, Doctor.” Julian teased.

 

After that they made camp and set up their mini buffet. Julian had brought cold deboned roast chicken, potato salad, soft rolls, and some jasmine tea while Gaven produced savory mini pastries stuffed with meat and spices, a box of mulberries, some cut raw vegetables, and some hard English style biscuits which he thought Julian might enjoy. They happened to pair very well with the tea.

 

“I had a nice conversation with your Mr. Garak today.” Gaven remarked conversationally. “I understand he's a good friend of yours.”

 

“Garak.” Julian was slightly surprised. “How did that encounter go?”

 

“Fine. We seemed to enjoy ourselves. He's perhaps one of the more interesting personalities I've encountered here on the station. Is it true he was a Cardassian agent at one time?” Gaven inquired.

 

“You mean to ask if he's a spy. I have no reason to doubt it. He's also a very accomplished tailor. Though I should warn you. Take what he says with a large spoonful of salt. I don't know that Garak is actually capable of a telling the truth without twisting it about first.” Julian warned.

 

“So I've heard.” Gaven nodded. “And yet…”

 

“We're the best of friends. I know. It confuses people. I wouldn't really call Garak a good kind of person. But I also wouldn't call him a bad one either.” Julian said simply.

 

“I can tell he favors you a great deal. You have a powerful protector in him, I think.” Gaven observed.

 

“Yes, not unlike your friendship with Jyrrus Cheval.” Julian said drawing the comparison out in that cerebral way he was capable of that showed he’d been analyzing Gaven’s relationship with the Vulcan with some interest and attention.

 

“Yes.” Gaven agreed, somewhat interested by the fact that Julian had noticed this.

 

“I was surprised to find him taking care of you at home and was deeply grateful he was there later. I know my abilities greatly contributed to the success of the surgery, but if he hadn’t helped the way he did I don’t know if we would have intervened in time to stop the infection. When he acted as a middleman for us later...I must admit I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. It was like...I can’t describe it. Is that what it’s like for you all the time when you link with someone biologically?” Julian asked.

 

Gaven nodded slowly.

 

“It’s how your able to be so accurate. isn’t it? How you can just link and map, in intimate detail, the minute functions of the body your linked with. But it isn’t telepathic. You can’t read thoughts. Just biological impulses and interactions. Your ability is amazing. I’ve never seen or heard of anything quite like it before.” Julian's thoughts also drifted back to the time when Gaven had linked with him in the carpet shop.

 

That experience had been more intense and, in some ways, more intimate because, likely in his haste, Gaven had opened the link between them in such a way where Julian had caught a glimpse of who Gaven really was. It had been an empathic kind of sharing for Julian. As if Gaven had poured part of himself into Julian to help strengthen and preserve him. Thinking on this again filled Julian with a kind of buzzy warmth that the intellectual part of his mind suddenly pushed away as he tried to focus back in on the conversation.

 

“There’s so many of the Oum who need advanced care to maintain their lives. We try to avoid medical intervention unless it is necessary to preserve the life of the Oum. Since many Oum can’t tell their caregivers how they feel or what’s causing a disturbance, it's just one way we’ve developed to communicate with each other. The ability varies, some Oum do have limited telepathic abilities as well that are cultivated for service. Oum like myself who exhibit no adverse reactions to the poly radiation on our planet tend to have the strongest empathic and telepathic abilities. It’s part of the reason we are trained, and servant bonded.” Gaven explained.

 

“That’s something I’m afraid I’ll never understand about your species.” Julian remarked. “I don’t understand this fixation your culture has about poly mutation. I’m shocked by the notion your culture would prefer their people live lives of disability and deformity and that they...Enslave those who don’t meet their standards. If the Oum wanted to they could slowly over generations breed out the variant genetics that cause the Oum to be negatively affected by the radiation their exposed to. I’m sorry to be culturally insensitive, but I find that to be madness.” Julian confessed, knowing he was ebbing into dangerous territory suddenly.

 

Gaven didn’t respond for a long time and after a while Julian began to fear he’d put his foot in it again.

 

“Gaven, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to criticize your culture. It’s judgmental of me. I shouldn’t have said anything about it at all.” Julian backtracked.

 

“I won’t defend what I equally think, and feel is wrong.” Gaven finally said at length quietly. “I could make excuses for my people, but I won’t. Ultimately, everyone got what they wanted in the end. My silence and my absence.”

 

His’s tone was distant, his feelings muted.

 

The topic had been one of the things Gaven had been processing while in stasis.

 

Julian relaxed somewhat, realizing that Gaven hadn’t taken offense but that he also wasn’t quite himself either. The implications of what Gaven must have been through during his final days or months on his homeworld made Julian bleed for him without fully knowing why or what had exactly happened. Of course, Gaven saw the flaws within the framework. He was too compassionate a person to approve of anything that caused needless suffering for others. It had been stupid of him to point out that Gaven had been a part of a flawed system. One that Julian didn’t understand and thus couldn't appreciate.

 

Not really knowing anything else to do to repair the conversation Julian scooted closer to Gaven and slipped his arm around his waist squeezing in a side hug.

 

“I’m glad you’re here instead of there.” Julian said simply.

 

Gaven sighed in a cleansing manner. Relaxing partially into the rock wall behind them and partially into Julian. “Me too.”

 

The contact between them was natural and comforting for both and after a little while Julian was rewarded further when Gaven slipped his own arm around Julian’s waist as well. The mutual gesture made Julian feel accepted and proved that they really did trust each other now. Considering all the pain and turmoil Julian had been through lately, he felt like he could let a lot of it go around Gaven. He realized when he was with Gaven he could be himself. Fully and completely. Even among his other close friends, he’d never been able to experience the luxury. It was nice to spend time with someone he could abandon all pretense with.

 

“You know, I was nervous about coming out with you today. To be honest. We don't exactly have the best track record socializing and I admit I felt a little paranoid something might go wrong.” Julian muttered.

 

“I know.” Gaven confirmed. “I invited you because I wanted to show you that things could be alright between us. You've become important to me Julian. You and your friends. I've never had friends before. Back on Oum my purpose was clear and there wasn't the opportunity to cultivate other close relationships outside of the household I was bound to. Until I left my world, I never knew it could be any other way. I never knew that I could want it to be any other way.”

 

“No personal family, no friends...Just service. Service to people you didn't even much like.” Julian scowled at the thought of such a limited existence. “What a terrible waste.”

 

Gaven tilted his head as he watched Julian sidelong in amused consideration. “Lopel Ner said something to the same effect more than once. I used to find it belittling but now I see what he meant by it.”

 

“Lopel Ner. That was the name of your...Bonded mate. Yes?” Julian inquired.

 

“Yes. It was.” Gaven confirmed softly.

 

Julian could feel Gaven's arm around his waist stiffen subtly and he knew then that he had to tread very carefully around the subject to avoid Gaven recoiling and shutting him out.

 

“What happened to Lopel Ner, Gaven?” Julian tightened his own grip around his waist protectively.

 

“He died. A freak climbing accident in the mountains near our home. I was there with him when it happened. It seemed...Impossible. Lopel was one of the best climbers I ever saw. But it was as if the handholds he was using simply disappeared. I watched him fall to his death from about twenty feet off the ground. Head injury. He died on impact. There was nothing I could do. I, huh, I climbed down to where he was, lashed him to me, and climbed back out. Then I carried him home.” Even though he kept his composure this time, the grief he felt was still evident in his expression and tone.

 

Julian pressed his lips as Gaven looked him in the face. It was one of the consistent oddities about him. How Gaven always looked a person in the face when he was exposing something that made him particularly vulnerable. Anyone else would have looked away.

 

“Lopel Ner is literally the reason I exist. His end should have been my end as well.” Gaven remarked, waiting for Julian to show that he understood him.

 

It didn't take any great computation. The realization connected in Julian's mind almost automatically. “That's why you were expelled from Oum. You refused to observe the Oum death rites of bonded suicide. You defied one of the most fundamental practices of your people and so they made an example of you.”

 

Gaven nodded. “Having them jettison me into space to die seemed an extreme but reasonable compromise at the time.”

 

“A reasonable compromise? How in the Hell is that a reasonable compromise?” Julian muttered incredulously.

 

“Lopel Ner was a notable figure in the Oum Republica. It would have been reasonable given his social importance for my ritual death to be more extravagant and to take longer than the usual prescribed time to execute. I outlined and agreed to the plan to allow me to expire in orbit around the planet. Oum saw no choice but to approve my request. Since our laws prohibit ending life by force a compromise had to be struck to preserve the cultural status quo. In the beginning I did intend to go against Lopel’s wishes and keep with my people’s traditions. I...I…” Gaven began to struggle trying to finish his thought.

 

While he had understood Lopel’s position on the subject he had loved his bondmate enough to find it difficult to live on without him.

 

“Hey. Hey.” Julian repeated himself trying to draw Gaven’s focus. He could tell Gaven was starting to distance himself from reality just then. Maybe to keep his feelings in check. Julian didn’t like seeing him disappear into himself like that maybe because Julian worried it was a place he wouldn’t be able to reach him. “Come back to me, Gaven. Please. It’s OK. You don’t have to say anymore. I understand.”

 

Julian’s tone was firm and calm as he pivoted onto his knees to better look Gaven in the face. Cupping his cheek with one palm and rubbing at it to further comfort him. Slowly Gaven's eyes refocused indicating he was fully present again.

 

“I suppose in retrospect this is an odd place and time to bare my soul to you.” There was just a taste of reproach in his tone.

 

“Why? Because you’re sharing the worst thing that's ever happened to you during an activity that is vaguely reminiscent to your experience? Tosh.” Julian said dismissively, causing Gaven to smile slightly at his successful attempt to lighten the mood.

 

Julian matched his gentle smile and reluctantly pulled his hand away from Gaven's face. He realized he liked being close to him and it had felt indulgent to see Gaven respond to his verbal requests. Julian also noted how different Gaven seemed. His energy felt brighter and less dense and though his emotionality was just as complex as it ever was Julian saw an ease to him that he hadn't seen before. He realized that for the first time Gaven felt accessible to him and that he had intentionally invited Julian out with him to prove it. Julian felt himself flush with relief. It hadn't occurred to him how badly he had wanted the other man's approval and acceptance until he finally had it.

 

Now that they seemed to be back on better footing Julian settled back down beside him again. “You know, you should travel more. I know we’re living in precarious times, but you could still take some time off. Bajor is just a shuttle away and you seem pretty comfortable on Vulcan.”

 

“I am planning a trip back to Vulcan soon. Cheval has asked me to return with him when he departs from the station in a few weeks.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Oh. Planning to be gone for long?” Julian kept his tone casual, but a sliver of nervous anxiety began to wiggle under his skin at the mentioning of Cheval.

 

Gaven turned his face slightly towards Julian. “Hopefully not long. Cheval wants my help with some personal business of his and under the circumstances I might be the only one who can help him sort it out.”

 

“You two seem rather close.” Julian observed. “Is there a ro-man-tic element going on there?”

 

Julian was trying to make it seem like he was teasing but it didn’t come off quite as well as he wanted.

 

Gaven tilted his head at the anxious undertone he heard and sensed in the other man’s question.

 

“In a manner of speaking, yes. But a complication has arose and…” Gaven began to explain.

 

“Oh, you two shouldn’t let something like that stop you. Romance is for the bold. If you have feelings for each other, you should seize the day and just let it happen. Even if it doesn’t work out. You’ll never regret it. I think Cheval is an exceptionally good kind of person and I can tell that he...he…cares a great deal about you.” Julian’s manic outburst began to lose most of its steam.

 

Somehow, he felt dispirited by the idea of Cheval and Gaven running away to sort out a love affair.

 

“Julian.” Gaven said firmly. “What are you talking about? I’m not running away with Jyrrus Cheval and I’m not...I don’t...feel about him the way you’re implying. Cheval has asked me to come to Vulcan with him to sort out some trouble with his betrothed. If everything goes well, I hope to be a witness of their nuptials. The romantic element in this case is between Jyrrus and his fiancé, not between he and I.”

 

“Ah, yes. I see. My mistake.” Without warning Julian pulled farther away from Gaven and got to his feet making a show of looking about the space between them like he’d only just now remembered where they were and what they were doing.

 

To Gaven, Julian looked lost. He also looked like he wanted to escape. Something had gone wrong between them suddenly. So suddenly that Gaven knew he had to do something about whatever had upturned the proverbial apple cart. Pressing up against the rock with his back, Gaven awkwardly used it as support to get him back onto his own feet. By now Julian had put a few feet between them and was looking about like he had lost something.

 

“Julian, stop. Sit down and tell me what’s wrong. I feel like I’ve done something to upset you and we were having such a good time.” Gaven said approaching him very cautiously.

 

“What?” Julian put his hands on his hips and glanced back at Gaven.

 

He sounded winded. Like he had quietly started to hyperventilate. “Everything's fine. It’s just...I feel, embarrassed. I don’t know what I was thinking just there. It must have sounded so presumptuous. Really, I’m sorry.”

 

Gaven watched Julian swing to face him even as he took another nervous step backwards. His arms moved in unison as he pressed his palms together as if to pray and sliced them in a bobbing motion between them as if to meekly gather his quickly fraying thoughts.

 

“Julian you’re having a panic attack. It’s all right. You didn’t say anything wrong. It was a simple mistake, and it doesn’t upset me. I can see how you or anyone might think there was something going on between Jyrrus and I and I’ll admit that perhaps there’s some complex emotional tension there, but that’s what we’re going back to Vulcan to repair. So that Jyrrus can move on with his life free of my emotional influence.” Gaven grew more alarmed has he watched Julian hover close to the edge of the rock lip completely unaware of how close to the edge he was.

 

“You’re right. I know you're right. I’m sorry. Since the attack I get panicky sometimes and I can’t control it. Maybe I should go...Yes, I should go. I...” The intensity of his rushing thoughts grew stronger and more disorientating mentally and physically as he tried in vain to get a grip on himself.

 

In his altered state of mind, the heels of his feet grazed the edge of the alcove. Julian clearly wasn’t prepared for it and started to falter. Within seconds, Gaven caught him by the wrist and jerked him back towards him so hard and fast that Julian lost his balance and went slamming into him knocking them both to the ground.

 

 Gaven didn’t let go however and instead simply pulled Julian tighter to him as they rolled a full rotation back towards the wall that they’d been leaning against a few minutes earlier ending with Gaven on top of him. Gaven had him by both wrists now and it was only then that Julian realized he was being pinned down. Gaven was breathing hard as he tried to force his own terror quickly into a box within his psyche.

 

“Not a word until we both calm down. Do you have any idea how close you were to going over the edge?” Gaven groaned.

 

Julian had enough sense in this moment to realize now was probably not the time to remind Gaven that they were in the Holosuite and that he wouldn’t have really fallen any significant distance or possibly at all because of the program’s safety protocols. Everything around them was an illusion.

 

“OK.” Julian breathed, simply allowing Gaven to remain sprawled over him.

 

The compression of their bodies created a warm safe heaviness between them as Gaven pressed his forehead into the rock just above his shoulder. Julian could feel his hot breath against his neck and as he laid there underneath Gaven he found himself wishing that Gaven’s face was angled just a little more so that he could feel the man’s lips press against his throat instead of straight into the rock like it was now. Julian’s mind skipped back to a similar time when he’d been caught up so protectively in Gaven’s arms. He remembered how he had almost expected Gaven to press his lips reassuringly to his temple or forehead. He had been practically convinced Gaven had wanted to but had held back and settled for cradling Julian’s face in his neck. Julian shut his eyes pushing away the thought as he focused on their breathing and worked to bring his own in sync.

 

While doing this he noted that Gaven’s personal scent was vaguely floral like roses and Juniper berries. Julian slowly let his body relax so that he could feel and track the other man’s form pressing against him. The feeling of his body pressing down into Julian’s threw him back to a time at the academy. Although he had had a well-known reputation for being a lady’s man, few knew of the rather long relationship he’d carried out at the Academy with one of his male peers. Despite his many butterfly affairs over the years, it had been the only real and lasting romantic relationship he’d ever maintained long term. Of course, none of that had any bearing on his current situation. But when Julian thought about the last time that he’d had a man pressing into him like Gaven was, his mind drifted back to how he had once felt. The nostalgia was very potent and suddenly Julian snapped his eyes open.

 

“Gaven you need to let me up right now. Really. I’m alright.” Julian insisted hastily urging Gaven to release his wrists and move off him.

 

At this command, Gaven instantly let go of Julian’s wrists and pushed himself up and over, turning onto his side as he watched Julian quickly roll over onto his stomach before he turned his head in Gaven’s direction and pressed his lips at him.

 

“What?” Gaven breathed the question trying to read Julian’s expression and thankfully failed.

 

The look on his own face revealed that Gaven hadn’t noticed Julian’s developing erection. With any luck he wasn’t familiar enough with the human sexual response to realize what it meant even if he had.

 

“Nothing.” Julian said convincingly. “Look, Gaven. What do you say we call it a day? Everything’s been going so well; I sort of don’t want to risk spoiling it. I’m really pleased you asked me to do this with you. Really, I am.”

 

“Ah. Of course.” Gaven said in a breathy manner. “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. I... I better go clean up our meal. You just, relax there awhile. I’ll take care of it.”

 

Julian was grateful for the time and distraction as he took the opportunity to will his body to behave itself. Luckily, it did and by the time Gaven was almost done packing up their lunch Julian was back on his feet helping him. There was no tension during this. Gaven seemed relaxed once more and this in turn reassured Julian and helped him to relax as well even if he now had a whole new slew of things to process and privately sort out. A short time later Julian ended the program for them.

 

“Thanks again for inviting me out with you.” Julian said, as they both balanced their packs to lean in for a one-armed hug. “Next time I’ll pick the program and take you on one of my adventures.”

 

“More spy capers, fast cars, and faster women?” He quipped as they walked to the door together, Gaven leading them with his hand on the small of Julian’s back guiding him along.

 

“Not quite. What I will say, is I think it’s a fine thing that Garak is making you a suit. Might as well give you an opportunity to wear it.” Julian teased.

 

“I look forward to having my horizons broadened. See you tomorrow in the infirmary?” There was a tinge of hopefulness in Gaven’s tone.

 

“Indeed.” Julian agreed.

 

At that the doors opened and Julian and Gaven lingered a bit longer together before going their separate ways for the evening.

 

Chapter 31: Age Before Beauty

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-One: Age Before Beauty

 

As Julian walked back to his quarters alone his mind poured over the events of the last few hours. On one hand everything had gone well, so far as things usually went between he and Gaven. But on the other hand, they’d also taken a bizarre turn and Julian was struggling now to swiftly put the details of the situation into a logical frame so that he could try to understand what had happened and what he should do about it.

 

Luckily, he was due to meet up with Miles soon for a late drink and a dart game. Julian got to his quarters and put away his things but before he started to peel off his clothes, he stopped for a moment and reflected once more on what had happened.

 

While Julian hadn’t seen it coming, his reaction to Gaven caused him, against his better judgement, to smile reminiscently at what he’d felt. What he’d felt with Gaven had been a nice feeling. Different then the kind of feelings he’d pursued in his final years at the academy and during the last few years on the Station.

 

The main question now was what the Hell was he going to do with it? Was it real? Or was it all coming about because he’d had some traumas happen close together?  Julian hadn’t pursued anyone since Leeta had broken up with him. There hadn't been time to seek out anyone new. But that was neither here nor there. Julian was capable of being single. While he preferred companionship when it could be had, he certainly didn't need it.

 

Julian shifted back to Gaven again. How would he feel about Julian harboring an emotional and physical attraction to him? It boggled Julian to think that Gaven was so obtuse that he didn’t notice it. Then again, he was an Oum. Whether that factor played into Gaven’s seeming ignorance or not, Julian didn’t know.

 

What he did know was that the situation had come to a head because Gaven’s close relationship to Jyrrus Cheval had made him feel insecure. Maybe even a bit jealous. Julian shook his head at his own stupidity and changed out of his clothes to take a shower before he headed over to meet Miles.

 

~@~

 

“Well don’t you look all bright eyed and bushy tailed.” Miles muttered, when Julian appeared in their usual spot dressed in dark slacks and a dark blue sweater. His hair was rumpled from not being fully dry yet.

 

“Believe it or not Miles I feel rather good. A little off kilter, but good. I hope you’re up for more than one game tonight.” Julian muttered, sweeping up his darts and testing them a bit between his fingers.

 

“Might as well get as much in as I can. Keiko’s being called away to Bajor to help them with a blight that’s causing a problem. She’s leaving in a few days and I’m absolutely terrified that little Kirayoshi is going to throw an unholy fit over her being away from him for the first time.” Miles lamented.

 

“Oh. I’m sure it won't be so bad, Chief. They say the second one’s supposed to be easier.” Julian teased.

 

“Yes, well whatever idiot said that obviously wasn’t a father. Mark my words. It’s going to be Hell in a handbasket, but, then again, I suppose that’s what I get for leaving Keiko to do most of the parenting. She’s just too good at it. And the children? They know she is. Anyway, you know it’s going to be bad when your own wife actually sends you to Quark’s to have a good time before the boom drops.”

 

“May the Prophets bless her for it.” Julian muttered toasting Miles with the beer he’d picked up on the way in.

 

Miles observed Julian closely for the moment. “Oie. What’s going on with you today? How was your outing with the good doctor?”

 

“Fine. Just fine.” Julian muttered, before he tossed the first dart from a respectably handicapped distance.

 

“It was fine? So... No one got maimed? You didn’t put your foot in it again or anything?” Miles wasn't quite convinced that Julian had played things off as well as he was presenting.

 

Julian didn't immediately reply.

 

“Miles have I ever mentioned my early escapades at the academy?” The question was rhetorical since both men knew that he hadn't.

 

“No. Though your reputation somewhat proceeds you. That candy bar you invented is still all the rage. Better than the standard Starfleet rations by a long shot which of course is one of your claims to fame, as I understand. You’ve mentioned your athletic prowess as well.” Miles reminded him.

 

“I never told you about some of my relationships, did I?” Julian continued to lead on, taking his final shot before he moved to the side to watch Miles take his.

 

“You’ve mentioned that Delon woman. The one you broke up with before you took your commission here. What was her occupation again? A performer of some kind?” Miles asked trying to recall.

 

“She was a Ballerina. A magnificent one. One of the best in Paris.” Julian reminded him.

 

“Yeah, well you always did have ambitious tastes.” Miles muttered, referring to Julian’s tendency to be attracted to exceptional people. Some of whom were well out of his league. “Why was it you two called it quits again? Surely it wasn’t over your commission alone.”

 

“We wanted different things. Palis knew that. Our affair was quaint, and it pleased her father which allowed Palis to do what she liked without further sensor. For my part it allowed me the time I needed to get someone else out of my system without a lot of pressure. We were very good friends but we both knew that if I had stayed there would have eventually been greater expectations of us as a couple. Since Palis wasn’t exactly the marrying type, when I was offered my choice of commissions, I took the one I wanted without hesitation.” Julian explained.

 

“How long were you with her?” Miles inquired.

 

“Five years.” Julian confirmed.

 

“And you’re telling me that you got together because she wanted cover and you were trying to get over someone.” Miles reiterated.

 

“Unfortunately, I was very attached.” He admitted.

 

“It took five years? Who was this other woman?” Miles demanded. He knew Julian tended to become very immersed in his partners. But five years of recovery seemed excessive even for him.

 

Julian swallowed the rest of his drink and suddenly wished he’d had the sense to bring a second one along.

 

“Conrad Wittle Junior.” Julian finally said.

 

The name drop was so unexpected that it caused Miles to falter halfway through his release and miss the board completely.

 

“What? You...You and Conrad Wittle were an item? Really? For how bloody long?” Miles stopped what he was doing to turn and stare at Julian in disbelief.

 

“Oh. Awhile.” He felt the heat rise in his face as he rocked back on his heels.

 

“Want to give me a ballpark estimation here?” Miles inquired.

 

“Six...Seven years. Although I only count the middle few years officially. We met three years into my time at the academy. He was the Captain of the Embassy Racquetball Team for a while. Frankly, it’s rather embarrassing to admit. So kindly keep your voice down.” Julian muttered.

 

“You were in a relationship with Conrad Wittle. The sociopath.” Miles repeated in a hushed tone.

 

“It wasn’t always obvious he was a sociopath, but yes. Everyone has that one relationship they regret. Conrad is mine. I was young. Naive. Lonely. I was the perfect target for his kind of antics and, actually, he wasn’t that bad of a sort to be involved with when one was in his good graces. I was quite happy for three or four years with our arrangement. Conrad was always very charming and could be quite magnanimous when it benefited him. It’s why despite his less noble reputation he’s still such a good negotiator for whoever decides to hire him at any given time.” Julian remarked.

 

“Yeah? Well, he’s also an alleged criminal and con artist. Conrad Wittle.” Miles repeated.

 

Miles was familiar with the name mostly because of the scandal that had broken open featuring the man a few years prior. The Wittle family were a part of a long line of experts in the field of communications. Many of the Wittle’s throughout history had served in ambassador occupations either for the Federation or for parties looking to get into bed with the Federation. Conrad Wittle Jr. had been no exception and had quickly established himself as a key Embassy player on Earth and abroad.

 

He was reputed to be charming, handsome, intelligent; but completely immoral as Starfleet had discovered when Conrad had gotten caught up in a complex information leak that had compromised some of Starfleet’s interests and caused a few important ones to be materially damaged.

 

Although there had been many rumors of Conrad’s involvement in these dealings, Starfleet had found it challenging to bring official ethics charges against him and even if they had, it became quickly apparent that several worlds within the Federation were sympathetic to Conrad and would have likely harbored him if criminal charges had been brought forward. In the end there simply hadn’t been enough non-circumstantial evidence to convict him and Conrad had walked free. Now it was rumored that he was roaming about the galaxy working as a freelancer and living like a prince among men.                                                  .

 

Finally, Miles got over his surprise and threw his darts. “What makes you bring him up all of a sudden? Something on your mind regarding him or is it something else?”

 

Miles never ceased to amaze Julian with his capacity to accept things that were presented to him about people. Here Julian was coming out to him again and he hardly seemed to react.

 

“More like it's someone else.” Julian said delicately.

 

This time Miles stopped what he was doing to stare at him. “It's not me, is it? Don't get me wrong, Julian. I love you to bits and Keiko and the children adore you, but I think she might draw the line at her husband running off with a younger man.”

 

Julian's mouth twitched at the temptation to smile in pleasure at the perfect quip. This was why he loved Miles and considered him his best friend. Both understood how thin the line between romantic love and friendship really was.

 

“Consider yourself safe, Chief. I wouldn't want to break up the family. It's, huh, Gaven actually.” Julian mumbled.

 

At this confession Miles instantly rolled his eyes and leveled a stare at his friend. “What did the two of you do, play patty fingers while you were rock climbing?”

 

“No such luck, I figured it out on accident.” Julian muttered, sweeping up the darts and throwing them. “We had a minor misunderstanding and I panicked and said something stupid and then one thing led to another and I...huh, had a unexpected reaction.”

 

“And?” Miles inquired.

 

“And...Nothing. I made an excuse and got the Hell out of there.” Julian admitted with a sigh before throwing his last dart.

 

“Why’d you do a silly thing like that?” Miles inquired. “Why not, you know, tell him? Does Gaven know yet?”

 

“I don't think so...and, wait just minute. Are you encouraging me to pursue this?” Julian questioned.

 

Miles shrugged. “Well, I don't know. You've just always been so adamant about chasing after people you like. So, I'm a bit surprised your being all hesitant now. Doctor Ore is a good caring kinda man. I can see that he cares for you. Favors you even. In any case, I certainly like the idea of you and him over you and Garak.”

 

Julian gave Miles a quizzical look.

 

“Don't look at me like that. That Cardassian flirts with you relentlessly and when you started having regular lunches together...Well I wondered sometimes.” Miles admitted.

 

Julian had to concede Miles’s point regarding his friendship with Garak. He knew perfectly well that Garak commonly came onto him and had tried to coax him more than once into getting more deeply involved in the Cardassian’s personal affairs. Julian had understood those moments to be subtle invitations and he was convinced that if he'd shown even the slightest sign of taking them seriously Garak would have advanced upon him.

 

For Julian's part he'd always harbored some deeper attraction to the man but had the good sense not to pursue it. Garak was still a Cardassian spy and an accomplished criminal and Julian was a Starfleet Doctor. It just wouldn't have been wise to get into bed together and they both knew it. Although Julian probably cared far more about the ethics of the issue than Garak did. As it stood, their close friendship was enough for them and was as close as they would likely ever get.

 

“Point taken.” Julian conceded.

 

“So, what are you going to do then about the good Doctor?” Miles asked delicately.

 

“I don't know.” Julian admitted.

 

“Well...Would you be open to a relationship with him if he were willing?” Miles was trying to understand what the big fuss was all about. If Julian and Gaven were attracted to each other and wanted to try for a relationship he saw no obvious obstacle in the way outside of the ones they created for themselves and each other.

 

“I haven’t pursued or even considered a relationship with another man since Conrad. What happened between he and I hurt me enough that I never felt comfortable trying again.” Julian admitted.

 

“So, what about all these women. Has being with any of them really been that much easier?” Miles questioned, before snagging a few drinks from the roaming waitress and nodding for her to put them on his tab.  

 

“In some ways, yes.” Julian implied thoughtfully.

 

“Mm. I see. Women are easier because you know what’s expected of you there. Seems kinda interesting to me that you managed...What was it? Five, six years, respectively with Conrad Wittle -his character aside- but, not counting your rebound antics with Palis, you’ve averaged about six to eight months with all your other girlfriends since?” Miles asked.

 

“My average is closer to a year, but yes...So? What are you implying?” Julian was trying to follow where Miles was going but failed to see the point.

 

“You’re afraid of commitment. No, I take that back. You handle commitment just fine. It’s being in a real relationship that scares you to pieces.”

 

“That’s ridiculous. And not true by the way.” Julian muttered.

 

“Isn’t it?” Miles challenged. “Julian, real romances, I mean the kind that last, are hard. Once you get past the pleasantries and the bed play, partnerships require real work, effort, and maintenance. You don’t get to be selfish anymore at least not without considering the impacts doing so may have. Look at Keiko and me. I love my wife, can’t imagine what my life would be like without her. But we’re both working professionals with demanding and sometimes dangerous careers. When we met on the Enterprise-D it was easy to get caught up in each other because we could be together all the time. Well, that didn’t last. There’s been times when Keiko's assignments or mine took us away from each other for months. Though I love my wife, sometimes I’m not sure I like her as much as others and that’s all part of the life we’ve built together. What you need to ask yourself is what kind of life do you want to live? It’s not a trick question and there’s no wrong answers.”

 

“I know. Your right. But let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Just because I’ve discovered a passing attraction to Gaven doesn’t mean I want to or should pursue him.” Julian remarked.

 

“All I'm saying is that every love match starts somewhere.” Miles immediately replied. “If you really don’t want to pursue it, then don’t. But try not to lie to yourself either. If you hadn’t thought about it just a little bit you wouldn’t have brought it up. Now. I’ve got an open tab and permission to be out all night. If I’m going to get stuck analyzing your love life for the entirety of the evening, then I would prefer to be considerably more drunk while I'm doing it. Thank you very much.” Miles tipped his beer in Julian’s direction and took a swig for emphasis.

 

For most of the rest of the night Julian and Miles ended up talking about everything other than Julian's feelings for Gaven, even though the subject matter lingered in Julian's mind. When it was time to leave Julian ushered his inebriated friend home to a grateful Keiko and then went on home himself. Julian had to work in the morning, so he'd held off on too much indulgence. Now though while going home he wished he'd taken a little more care with his disclosures. While he wasn't worried Miles would gossip about him outside of telling Keiko, Julian understood that in talking about his attraction openly he'd made it more tangible and less simple to dismiss.

 

~@~

 

The next morning Gaven and Julian were due to start their live inoculation trials. It was exciting to have come so far with the project.

 

When Julian woke up that morning, he winced at the slight headache he'd developed. As much as he wanted to blame it on drinking with Miles, he knew that he was simply over tired from tossing and turning in the night as he thought about the various possibilities the new day could bring. Gaven had been a part of those thoughts and as Julian had lied awake in the early morning, he allowed himself the indulgence of wondering what it could be like between them.

 

In truth Julian found it difficult to imagine what being involved with Gaven would look like. Gaven was so introverted, self-contained, and emotionally complex that it was clear getting involved with someone like him would be no light ordeal. It would take real commitment right from the start and Julian knew he wouldn't be able to emotionally skirt by as he had done in many of his other relationships. What bothered him the most about the idea was that Julian wasn't sure he was mature enough to appeal to Gaven. Then again, Jyrrus Cheval was young by Vulcan standards and had an air of uncertainty that made him seem uncharacteristically awkward for a Vulcan. Gaven had admitted to deeper feelings for Cheval and Julian had observed for himself they're connection. The mental argument ensued through his sleeping time until he finally became determined to stop obsessing about it. There was a possibility he was getting himself worked up into a froth for nothing and, regardless of the case, Julian had to face Gaven that morning.

 

Julian arrived in the infirmary on time and immediately took something for his headache once he got into his office. He wasn't really looking forward to spending the day in the lab under the bright lights and in such tight proximity to Gaven, but the situation couldn't be helped. They needed the inoculation experiments to work. Julian took a deep breath and sipped at his glass of water as he mentally prepared to put his doctoring face on.

 

Hovering near his office door while he mentally prepared himself, Julian caught sight of Gaven working with one of the patients.

 

It was a little girl about the age of six who was getting a tetanus shot for a mishap at home. She was clearly upset and afraid to be treated. Julian watched Gaven tend to her. When she refused to sit on the exam table Gaven got down on the floor with her at her level despite the maneuver being awkward for him. Julian couldn't hear what he was saying but he watched the little girl’s face slowly transition from stubborn distrust to shy curiosity as he showed her the hypo-needle and let her use it on him first. After a while she even giggled and shyly showed him her hurt hand explaining what had happened. Gaven listened to her patiently and attentively then gently explained why it was important to protect her with the shot. Finally, about twenty minutes in, the little girl let him give her the shot without further fuss and shortly after went on her way with her grateful father.

 

Julian lingered in his office watching Gaven as he remained on the floor. There was a tranquil look on his features with flickers of something else. Longing maybe or regret for what might have been. Slipping out of his office then Julian approached Gaven and extended his arm to help him up off the floor. Gaven took it and allowed Julian to hoist him up into a standing position.

 

“Thank you and good morning.” He said softly.

 

“Anytime. And good morning to you. Your very good you know. With children, I mean. If you ever decide to pursue medicine as a real profession, I might encourage you to consider pediatrics.” Julian advised.

 

“Coming from someone who chose to specialize in pediatrics, that’s a high compliment. I’ll keep the recommendation in mind. You look tired today, Julian. Are you well?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Just a mild headache. I had a late night. It’s nothing a little coffee won’t fix.” Julian muttered. “You know, you should let me look at your leg sometime. We might be able to repair the muscle damage, so you don’t have to keep using that forearm crutch.”

 

“I’m sure you could correct it and quite easily.” Gaven conceded. “The technology used here on the station to heal people never ceases to amaze me. You’ll have to excuse my hesitance. Old habits die hard, as the saying goes.”

 

 “The choice is yours. If you’re not interested, I of course won’t pursue it further. I just…” Julian began.

 

“I know.” Gaven nodded, indicating he knew that it bothered Julian to see him in pain or disadvantaged by something that could be remedied. “I’m mostly just a little stiff from our climbing adventures. Come on. Let’s get some coffee in you and we can go over the agenda for today.”

 

Julian and Gaven spent the rest of the morning in conference discussing and outlining the parameters of their stage one inoculation experiments. It was slow going at first because Gaven had to be caught up on the scientific approach Julian intended to use to carry out the early experiments. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Gaven was an alien with completely different technological references and that he had almost no experience with certain scientific concepts.

 

Ultimately though, they were able to flesh out the next stage of their plan for Fisk to look over and for the Captain to sign off on. It was satisfying to work with Gaven. He was careful, methodical, and curious with plenty to contribute.

 

When it was time for them to stop and take a break, Gaven uncharacteristically asked Julian to eat with him again.

 

“Don't you normally take lunch with Jyrrus on Tuesdays?” Julian had asked conversationally.

 

“I do. He isn't on the station, however. Jyrrus is away on Bajor and will be there for a few days. Keiko O'Brien asked him to come along and help her as a fellow botanist. He in turn offered to go on ahead and set up their work site.” Gaven observed something slightly deflate in Julian's features after he revealed this information.

 

“Ah. That makes sense. Miles mentioned Keiko was leaving soon.” He said nodding.

 

“what about you? Don't you normally take lunch with Garak?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Sometimes. When he's not busy.” Julian replied.

 

A pregnant silence ensued between them as they mulled around together.

 

“So, conference room in say five minutes?” Gaven finally pressed.

 

“Yep. Sounds good.” Julian chirped before he pushed off the table he'd been leaning against and headed back to his office.

 

Gaven watched him go and sighed. He had meant his invitation genuinely and yet he suspected that Julian had somehow read the request unfavorably. After the incident in the Holosuite Gaven had put together that Julian somehow felt like he was in competition with Jyrrus Cheval. It was likely then that he mistook Gaven’s request for his company as him merely serving as a replacement companion for when the Vulcan wasn't available. Sometimes Gaven didn't understand why it was so hard to convey his intentions with Julian. Everyone else seemed to follow pretty easily when he interacted with them.

 

Gaven pondered their outing once more. He had really thought Julian might fall. The fact that they were in the Holosuite together had been forgotten. His fear for Julian's life had been all too real. Real enough that it had triggered a fresh series of nightmares featuring the moments he'd spent watching Lopel fall to his death.

 

Gaven pushed his invasive memories away. The effects of the psychic purging that had occurred while he was in stasis was starting to weaken. Soon some of the emotional ease he'd been enjoying recently would fade. He wanted to enjoy his stability while he had it even if he wasn't willing to sustain it long term.

 

Eventually, Gaven went to the replicator and ordered it to produce a random meal using a simple nutritional parameter. While the replicator always announced what it produced and a list of ingredients in the recipe Gaven usually had to research what the ingredients were. This time the replicator produced something called a citrus cos salad. Gaven paired this with an herbal tea and joined Julian in the conference room.

 

For Julian's part he was sticking to dry toast and coffee.

 

“Still not feeling well?” Gaven inquired settling down to Julian's left with the table corner between them.

 

“Mm.” Julian muttered to the affirmative. “It's not getting worse, but it's not getting better.”

 

Gaven nodded at him and looked down at his salad. It was pretty enough with the fruits set against the crisp greens. Gathering up as much of a variety of the ingredients as possible Gaven hesitated briefly before he brought the fork to his mouth and took an experimental chew. Almost immediately he made a pinched expression and murmured in surprise as he quickly spit his fork full into his napkin and made a face.

 

Julian watched this display and couldn't help but chuckle at the rare expression of acute surprise that had come over Gaven's features and he quickly reached over to pat him between his shoulders to ensure he didn't choke.

 

“Tart.” Gaven muttered as he recovered himself and sucked at his lips.

 

At this remark Julian chuckled even more. “Why yes. Grapefruit and limes typically are. What were you expecting?”

 

“I assumed they would be sweet.” Gaven remarked glaring at him though not managing to avoid smiling at his own folly.

 

“Were you not familiar with what you replicated?” Julian asked.

 

“Not at all. I've been having the replicator pick my meals at random. You know, for the experience of it. Normally I spend my mealtimes looking everything up.” He admitted.

 

It suddenly occurred to Julian why Gaven almost always carried a data pad with him. Up until now he'd assumed that he was using it to record his thoughts and file reports. It never occurred to him that Gaven probably spent a great deal of his down time trying to make sense of everything he was being exposed to.

 

The realization sobered him a little.

 

Gaven returned to his salad, faring better with it once he knew what to fully expect in among the layers of bright and refreshing flavors.

 

“what sort of things did you eat on Oum?” Julian asked with genuine curiosity.

 

“Animal protein is somewhat scarce on the planet apart from insects and sea life. The poly radiation tends to affect everything for better or worse and so animal life is limited. Most vegetation has adapted and so we do have a wide variety of edible plants, fruits, vegetables, nuts and such. I suppose you could say the culture is mostly vegetarian as it's costly to ship aquatic animals for consumption if the community is far inland.” Gaven explained. “I was always fond of sweet breads, dried Meral which is a type of fatty deep-sea fish, and I'm rather fond of roast coach spider. Hadna used to make a fine stew from them.”

 

“Where you and this Hadna person close?” Julian asked.

 

Gaven nodded slowly. “Yes. I suppose she was the equivalent to a mother figure to me. Hadna was Verda’s bondservant. We were equals despite our age difference and were commonly together when our duties didn't have us occupied. I often only saw her in the early morning and night when we settled in our shared room together. She liked to sing, and she was quite talented at making natural medicines. She had a way with plants and the natural world.”

 

“She sounds wonderful.” Julian remarked.

 

“She was.” Gaven agreed. “Her departure was deeply felt within the household by all of us. Perhaps more so than the departure of her Bondmistress.”

 

Julian was tempted to ask more but held back. Gaven's stories about his life on Oum always seemed to be stained with sadness even when he was speaking favorably about his experiences. Instead, he filed his thoughts away and went back to eating his toast which seemed less and less appealing. Julian's head throbbed just enough to be constantly distracting and after a while he pushed his plate away from him and frowned.

 

Gaven observed him through his lashes as he worked through half of his lunch.

 

“I take it eating isn't helping. You know, if you want, I could take a look at you.” Gaven offered wiggling his fingers at Julian.

 

Julian felt a tickle along his spine at the suggestion. He understood that Gaven was offering to link with him to diagnose what kind of headache it was and the best course of action to take. Julian had linked with him a few times already. Once in the carpet shop and once with Cheval acting as a grounder. Both had involved emergent situations and Julian hadn't really had the time to study the linking process. Something held him back from the experiment. Perhaps it was fear.

 

“Hm. When you link with someone how extensive is the range? Can you map the entire body or is it more like a search and find?” Julian asked.

 

“It's more like a search and find. I have the ability to look for certain things if I'm already familiar with the anatomy, but I can't know everything nor would I want to.” Gaven explained.

 

“Why is that?” Julian wondered aloud.

 

Gaven shrugged. “It can feel overwhelming. And too personal. If there's pain, It's shared.”

 

Julian found this information disquieting. It made him think about what he'd experienced when Gaven had linked with him in the carpet shop to root out where he was injured and to what extent. Had Gaven experienced Julian’s physical pain as if it had been his own? Despite that his abilities weren’t telepathic; Julian remembered the strength of Gaven’s feelings pouring into him. Willing his body to endure and for his mind to hold on. He wondered now if Gaven knew what he’d shared in his haste.

 

Ultimately, he decided to dig a little deeper.

 

“Can I ask you something? I notice you seem different lately. Less stressed, happier even. While I’m mighty glad to see you like that…” Julian trailed off not sure how to further phrase his question.

 

Gaven smiled lightly, pushing his empty plate away to fold his hands on the table.

 

 “I know what you’re trying to ask. As you know the Oum are biological empaths and are telepathically capable under certain circumstances. You might imagine that being an Oum can feel very overwhelming. The disfigurement and disability caused by the poly radiation can have negative emotional impacts associated with their physical distress. Many Oum experience chronic pain, regular discomfort, etc. Bonded Oum who do not experience these burdens are trained to bear the load when necessary for those that do. Our refined bio-empathic abilities allow us to bring forward comfort, healing, and grounding. In this capacity even the bonded can become overwhelmed by the burden. Likewise, our general sensitivities make other emotional experiences more potent. In order to protect the mind from prolonged trauma the Oum developed a psychic purging ability. Using a deep meditative state, we can compartmentalize trauma, process it, and over time distance ourselves from the experiences. Most Oum do this regularly in order to remain emotionally and psychologically balanced and healthy. Bonded Oum may utilize the technique more often because we tend to carry more than just our own emotional load. We essentially can heal our own minds and strip our memories and experiences. In doing so many of us live happy contented lives despite our individual disparities.” Gaven explained.

 

“All this time on the station and you’ve suffered so much. Why if you could purge your experiences like that?” Julian wondered truly shocked by the implications.

 

“Regular purging essentially makes certain experiences meaningless. As an Oum distances themselves, they distance themselves from the entirety of the experience and while they may remember it factually, over time it may lose all emotional context. The good and the bad. As much bad as I’ve experienced Julian, I haven’t been willing to give up the good mingled in with it. I admit it’s not ideal, but it’s how I choose to live.” Gaven explained.

 

“What about recently? You’ve clearly been doing some processing.” Julian observed leaning in slightly. His own meal mostly finished.

 

“Involuntarily. Stasis forces the purging process and unlike guided purging which allows one to be selective about what they purge, the stasis condition purges at random. It’s why the Vulcans encouraged me to enter stasis when they rescued me. I was so disturbed that they understood it was the best thing to do in order to become functional again and not cause a problem for their people. I admit the last few days have been...a relief. I’m sure it’s been something to see.” Gaven teased.

 

Julian chuckled. “Yes. It has been nice to see you happier and more at peace. I know you’d rather not purge much of what you’ve experienced Gaven, but I must admit knowing you could revert back the troubled states I’ve seen you in previously is something that’s hard to swallow.”

 

Gaven smiled compassionately at this show of support. “You know...The Oum sensitivity works both ways. We feel happiness and joy just as acutely as anything else. I think the easiest way to meet in the middle is to aim for better and happy times then bad.”

 

“Mmhm. I couldn’t agree more.” Julian said as he wondered to himself about the kind of experiences that could be strong enough to override grief and pale even the worst suffering. Maybe it wasn't really about big experiences but rather the millions of little ones a person could experience.  

 

“Right. Speaking of important experiences. Do the Oum observe special significance to the birth of their offspring?” Julian asked.

 

Gaven narrowed his eyes at Julian suspiciously. “Is that your way of trying to work out my approximate age, Doctor?”

 

“Yes. As a matter of fact, it is.” Julian mused in a conspiratorial tone.

 

Gaven chuckled dryly enjoying the apparent test of wills he'd stumbled into.

 

“Mm. We don't actually. Not with any great significance. And if you really must know I'm likely old enough to be your father. Perhaps even a noticeably young grandfather.” Gaven replied without really answering the intended question.

 

“I'll keep that in mind. That would make you what? Fifty, sixty years old? If you don't tell me I'm just going to pick a suitable number and spread it around.” Julian threatened.

 

Gaven scoffed, believing Julian could make good on his threat. Tilting his head away from Julian but looking back with his gaze, Gaven rolled his tongue from one side of his cheek to the other as he hugged himself and leaned back in the chair.

 

At last, he slowly looked back upon Julian in full. “I'm approximately sixty-three.”

 

A smug boyish look came over Julian's features as he realized Gaven had conceded defeat.

 

“If you tell Dax I swear Julian that I’ll drug your coffee.” Gaven warned him as he reached over and prodded him in the shoulder lightly.

 

“I should think you two would love to chat about your experiences. Her symbiote is older than both of us combined.” Julian grinned at the prod.

 

It occurred to him that Gaven had started to make subtle physical gestures. Mostly gestures of comfort. Funny how he just noticed it now. It caused Julian to shuffle back through his recall as he picked out all the times they'd come into more intimate contact usually while trying to comfort or reassure each other. Julian realized such repeated contact was unique between them. Again, Julian wondered how intentional it all was.

 

If it wasn't a conscious impulse on Gaven's part, he speculated about what it unconsciously meant. He also had to admit to himself that he liked their subtle contact and that he hoped it continued to evolve.

 

Easing up out of his chair Julian caught Gaven by his right upper arm and squeezed it as he simultaneously patted Gaven on the back with his other.

 

“Come on, Doctor. Let’s tackle the Hell out of these inoculation trials. I suddenly feel right as rain.” Julian said boldly though with a quiet intensity.

 

Gaven glanced from Julian’s grip on his upper arm to his confident face and he felt something give a little in his resolve spreading a slow-moving warmth across his abdomen.

 

“Yes. Let's get down to work.” He agreed, before gripping onto Julian's arm as he let him pull him up out of his chair.

 

Once they were both standing, they found each other intimately close. Nearly as close as they'd been in the Holosuite when they'd tumbled to the ground. They held that position for a fraction of a minute longer than was needed before they both slowly let go of each other.

 

“Age before beauty.” Julian said, not quite able to avoid a huskiness to his voice.

 

“Mm. It's sweet that you think I'm beautiful.” Gaven quipped before he gently moved away from Julian, turned, and limped to the door not bothering to catch his expression.  

 

Obviously, the proper interpretation of the old phrase was completely lost on Gaven, yet his rebuttal was so interesting it hardly mattered.

 

Gaven stopped at the door and finally looked back. The look on Julian’s face was deeply satisfying to him for some reason.

 

. “Coming?” Gaven asked.

 

“Yes.” Julian said, swallowing and shaking himself back to his senses. He was coming alright. Coming and going in fact. Damn Julian if Gaven hadn’t just sent his radar whirling.

 

Julian felt like he was tentatively being invited into something. He just wasn’t sure what that something was yet or if Gaven really knew he was ushering in something complicated between them. Whatever the truth among the fantasy was, there was still important work to be done and Julian knew now wasn’t the time to dive deeper down the rabbit hole.

 

Chapter 32: Peaceful Slumber

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Two: Peaceful Slumber

 

 That afternoon with Jeremiah at the helm managing the infirmary’s regular operations, Gaven and Julian were in the lab setting up their first round of live experiments. The idea of the poly radiation inoculation trials was to create a short-term inoculation that would shield the humanoid cellular structure from the effects of poly radiation exposure. Longer term protections could be utilized through shielding and containment fields.

 

Once their protocols had been reviewed and approved Gaven and Julian got to work and remained completely engrossed together in their experiment for the next forty-eight hours. The full length of the trial would take a minimum of eight to twelve weeks, but the early findings would be the most critical. Both men worked tirelessly. Barely aware of the passing of time as Julian led and Gaven supported.

 

They spoke little about anything other than the direct task at hand and both might have continued longer, caught up in the pure intellect of their project, if Jeremiah hadn't finally intervened.

 

“Guess what boys? Playtime is over. I'm kicking you out.” Fisk proclaimed at the forty-eight-hour mark effectively interrupting Gaven and Julian while they had been taking turns examining cellular samples.

 

Julian and Gaven slowly looked up from their relentless work both seeing the fatherly no nonsense look on Jeremiah's face.

 

“I suppose we do have to stop eventually.” Gaven muttered in a strained fashion.

 

“I guess.” Julian agreed with a groan, rubbing at his tired face after reluctantly pulling himself away from the microscope he'd been using.

 

“You both are on strict R & R for the next twenty-four hours.” Jeremiah warned.

 

“Can’t let you guys have all the fun.” Dax muttered brightly after appearing in the doorway and shaking her head at the state they were in.

 

“By the way it smells like a locker room in here. Go home. Bathe.” Jadzia scolded them humorously. “I'll look over the data and send you guys my opinion.”

 

“I think we're being kicked out, Doctor.” Gaven muttered smiling sidelong in a hazy fashion.

 

“Yes, Doctor. I think you’re right.” Julian muttered not skipping a beat. “Well up and onward, I guess. There's not a lot more we can do now but wait and see how our test subjects fair.”

 

Julian got up, stretched and then took Gaven by the arm then helped pull him to his feet. It was becoming an intimate habit between them.

 

“Come on, old man. I'll walk you home.” Julian muttered clapping Gaven on the back.

 

He could feel Jadzia staring at him from behind them and ignored her. They were both tired and only in retrospect did Julian wish he'd made Gaven go home much sooner. The wish was fleeting since Julian was perfectly aware that Gaven's stamina was quite robust and that both had chosen to remain on their own accord.

 

It took several minutes of brisk walking for Gaven to limber up and in the meantime, Julian pulled back his pace and walked in close stride with him. Both were largely running off adrenaline at this point from having been mutually engrossed in their experiment and neither was quite ready to simply tuck things in. For once even Gaven's waning emotional distance didn't rob him of his sense of accomplishment over the work that had been done.

 

While he still had reservations about how their research would be used, Gaven could appreciate that he was being permitted to play scientist because of it. It was a role that had not been afforded him on Oum and he found himself pleased that he was so well suited for it and that he had the benefit of observing and assisting someone like Julian who had a long-standing reputation for scientific discovery and research.

 

“Well, Doctor. Thank you for walking me home.” Gaven muttered as he stopped in front of his quarters.

 

“My pleasure.” Julian nodded. A part of him wished they could have walked longer. It was too late to go to Quark's and Julian didn't feel like going home.

 

When Julian didn't immediately say his farewells and leave, Gaven tentatively ventured an alternative for him. “Would you like to come in for a while?”

 

Julian considered his invitation quietly weighing out the significance of it. Though his body was tired, his mind was still in top form and the invitation to remain in the alien's orbit just then was entirely too tempting an opportunity to pass up. It was a large step for Gaven to invite him in at such an odd hour. Especially because Julian knew the man was deeply fatigued. Maybe though, like Julian, Gaven didn't want to be on his own that night.

 

The idea quickly drowned out any other possibilities and made a flower of intimate compassion blossom in his chest and radiate outward.

 

“Yes. I would. But I'll only come in if you agree to let me fetch and carry for you for the rest of the night.” Julian muttered seriously as he rested his back against the wall panel on one side of the entry.

 

Gaven paused in front of his door tilting his head slightly at Julian’s phrasing before he slowly nodded approvingly and then let them in.

 

“You remember where everything is, I'm sure.” Gaven muttered, letting Julian step in first.

 

“Yes. Come sit down. I’ll replicate you some hot tea and we can think about some dinner.” A subtle husky tone had slipped into Julian’s tone despite his better intentions that was fed by Gaven’s willingness to allow Julian to take care of him. There was a kind of seduction in it that Julian couldn’t keep himself from quietly enjoying.

 

“Any requests?” Julian asked over his shoulder.

 

As he looked back, he caught sight of Gaven heavily limping over to his sofa struggling briefly to settle into his favorite spot. Julian frowned at his clear discomfort momentarily studying his gait and then mentally calculating where the problem most likely was and the possible ways it could be treated, if Gaven ever let him.

 

“Surprise me.” Gaven muttered predictably as he pulled his legs up onto the sofa to lounge.

 

Julian eventually turned his full attention back to their meal as he fixed them both some herbal tea and set the small dining table. He planned to introduce Gaven to a childhood curry dish but for the moment he was eager to simply sit with him and talk awhile. Taking up the steaming mugs Julian came into the living room and handed one off before he settled on the floor near him with his own.

 

“Does it hurt?” Julian asked softly as they sat quietly together winding down.

 

“Sometimes.“ Gaven admitted. “Mostly like now it just gets stiff and strained.”

 

Julian nodded knowingly as he gripped his cup and stared into its depths to avoid the urge to look up sidelong into Gaven’s face. “Well...I know that you’d rather leave it, but I would still suggest you at least consider some therapeutic massage. It might ease the muscle strain at the very least.”

 

A few seconds later Julian felt Gaven nudge him in the shoulder encouraging him to look at him. When he did, he was rewarded with the sight of a tired but amused smile splayed across Gaven’s features.

 

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Gaven asked rhetorically.

 

“Yes.” Julian admitted before taking a large sip of his slightly too hot tea.

 

“Alright. I concede that your request is reasonable. How about we talk about it again when I’m properly rested and able to resist you a little better.” Gaven quipped.

 

“Hm. Fatigue makes you more susceptible to my whims, does it?” Julian couldn’t resist the subtle suggestiveness in his question. He could still feel Gaven’s knees pressing into his shoulder and made no attempt to relieve himself of the intimacy he was enjoying.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Julian inquired, as he adjusted his position so that he could rest his arm along the edge of the sofa and look at Gaven properly. “What are you going to do when this is all over? The conflict with the Dominion, I mean.”

 

Julian had asked at random, but now that it was out of his mouth, he realized he was trying to get a better feel for Gaven's long term plans.

 

“I don't know.” Gaven replied honestly. “I suppose...I would look for somewhere new to lay down roots. Then try to start my entire life over.”

 

“What does starting over look like for you?” Julian went on trying to imagine Gaven as just a regular free citizen somewhere.

 

“I suppose I would look for ways to be useful. I'm a fair good administrator. Managing things for others is something I'm particularly gifted in, as you know.” Gaven mused.

 

“Do you not plan to continue in medicine?” Often Julian forgot that Gaven wasn't really a licensed doctor.

 

“If there was need for my abilities, perhaps.” Gaven conceded slowly.

 

“What about other things? Have you ever thought about, oh, settling down again and having children of your own?” Julian went on.

 

“Maybe someday.” Gaven said, more quietly than he'd said the rest.

 

Julian took a good look at his features just then and was relieved to see Gaven's soft and tranquil expression. Apart of him had worried he'd been too personal again with his line of questioning.

 

“What about you?” Gaven asked at length, turning the subject matter back onto Julian.

 

“Ah, well I'll always be a doctor. I may not always be out here on the frontier or even in Starfleet, but...doctoring is what I’m best at. As for the rest, I never really thought of myself as the family type. I suppose that I’ve always felt it would be unfair because of my family secrets.” Julian mused, not mentioning that he also had ample command training and could have just as easily aspired to be a Captain someday if he wanted to be assuming the Federation didn’t suddenly take issue with his status again.

 

“And now that it's all out in the open?” Gaven asked.

 

“Now? Oh, I don't know. Anything is possible I suppose if the right person came along. Personally, it's never been a sticking point with me.” Julian shrugged.

 

“Do you want to eat something now?” He asked at length effectively changing the subject as he slipped back into his caregiver mode and got up off the floor.

 

Gaven nodded and watched Julian as he walked away to fiddle with the replicator. He took this time to note the healthy weight and muscle mass he'd put back on in recent weeks and how his hair had nearly grown long enough to hide the surgical scar that had drawn so much acclaim. Gaven was relieved to see these marks of progress in him, even the hand tremors seemed to have improved. One thing Gaven enjoyed in moments of observation like this was how graceful Julian naturally was. Everything Julian did had a kind of dignity to it. It was a dignity that was especially potent when he was caring for someone.

 

Caring. Caring for him. Julian had explicitly made a point to take care of them tonight. As much as Julian was doing it for Gaven, he was also doing it for himself. He had wanted to spend more time with him, that much Gaven understood. Their time together lately had taken on an intimate feel, more intimate than the time Gaven spent with Cheval and certainly more intimate than his time with anyone else on the station.

 

For once, as Gaven tentatively allowed himself to explore his growing attachment, he realized that, perhaps for the first time, when he looked into himself his vision was not obstructed by the visage of his former bondmate reminding him of the worn-out expectations of the past. As many had pointed out in recent weeks, now that Gaven was out on the frontier there was nothing barring him anymore from sharing himself with others if he wanted to and yet he knew he wasn’t ready to make that leap yet.

 

At first Julian planned to have them eat at the table, but now that the initial buzz of excitement had worn off, he grunted and instead carried the bowls of curried vegetables back to the sofa.

 

Seeing him approach Gaven made room for him to sit down beside him.

 

“What is this? It's very good.” Gaven complemented with genuine regard after they’d started eating.

 

“Curried potato. The replicators do a fair job at it. But my mother's version is the best. This was a comfort food when I was a child.” Julian remarked. “I'm glad you like it so much.”

 

The two of them ate in silence for a few moments.

 

“Tell me something, if you would.” Julian said after a while. “Tell me about a happy memory from your home-world.”

 

Gaven considered his request for a moment. “Have I really done nothing but present a poor depiction?”

 

“Yes. But I know rationally that isn't all Oum is.” Julian reassured him. “Tell me anyway though.”

 

Gaven huffed sheepishly.

 

“I remember the first time Gulevere took me with him to the capitol. I was the equivalent of about fourteen. Up until that point, I'd never been outside our country providence apart from when I'd been brought to the Ner house. You must remember I was intended as Gulevere’s protégé and Lopel’s bondservant. Lopel didn't formally inherit me as his own until much later and it was Gulevere’s duty to train me in matters of state and anything else the household’s standing in the Republica required. Anyway, on that trip it was just Gulevere and I. Lopel had been sent ahead and we were to meet him in the city. I admit throughout the entire journey there, I was sick with fear. I was very...Conscientious in my youth. Deeply introverted. For some reason I had it in my mind that Gulevere was displeased with me and the trip was a kind of punishment or rejection of my service. Unfit bondservants are returned to the Foundling Guild so that a new genetic match might be commissioned, and any inadequacies corrected.” Gaven explained.

 

Julian sensed the bitter tinge in Gaven's inflections and wondered about it. He recalled how Gaven had once said his relationships had been strained, but Julian had yet to be clued into the how and why's of the dynamics in full.

 

“Warmth was...not his strong point. But I remember, that when he would take my shoulder and steady himself upon arriving anywhere or leaving, his grip...There was always gratitude in it. A silent appreciation that he found so impossible to express in words. By the second to last day, my nerves had been pushed to their limits. I was sick from not eating properly and, as it was damp and cold that time of year, I'd developed a touch of mild influenza. That final night Gulevere hired a servant for the evening and through the next day to wait on us instead of me doing it. I'd been struck by a fever early in the evening and had to be carried to bed. It was a terrible night. But once I was settled Gulevere tended to me personally through the night and into the next day. At one point to sooth me, he began to hum and pet my hair and I just remember how wonderful it felt in my misery to be cared for by him.” A fond reminiscent smile was set upon his features.

 

“We were there three months in the capital city of Else. Gulevere was a linguistics expert. A very specialized field given that communication on Oum is both verbal and non-verbal, practical and psychic. It was the one area of his life where his passion and compassion were obvious. As a linguistics expert and specialist Gulevere had almost unlimited access in the Republica. Every Oum is entitled to the right of communication. During this time, I once saw him working with a young Oum who was deaf and mute. The child had begun to retreat into himself. A locked in kind of phenomena where, starved of the ability to communicate and impress on the world, the Oum retreats into their psyche and eventually dies. I watched him work diligently with the child for days until he finally reached him. During that trip I was permitted to attend him absolutely acting as his personal aide. I learned much about the Republica at that time. The intricacies of government. The majesty of what the Oum culture had built. We are a very proud people. I think Gulevere wanted me to understand how big my world could really be as well as how important my role was in it. I realized later it was his way of saying he was proud of me. Proud that I was connected to him and his household. Though he was never demonstrative of his affections to me directly, I saw how much he loved, and I still believe of anything I inherited from him, his love and compassion, however hidden it was in his case, was the greatest part of his shared legacy.” Gaven finished.

 

“Well? How was that for a happy story?” Gaven inquired, nudging Julian with his shoulder before finishing off his bowl.

 

“Just what the doctor ordered.” Julian quipped before he took Gaven's bowl and put it with his own along the side of the sofa. “Can I ask you something else? You mentioned once that Lopel and Gulevere fought over you in his later years. What was it about?”

 

Gaven sighed, he was starting to tire now that they'd eaten and had been sitting awhile.

 

“Gulevere disapproved of the nature of Lopel and my relationship. Though Lopel didn't take me on as a bonded mate for some time into our dynamic, there were certain liberties with me that he took early on that Gulevere deeply disapproved of. I think he understood that Lopel planned to take me as a mate later and he knew that if Lopel did that it would get in the way of other expectations Gulevere had of us.” Gaven explained.

 

“It sounds all very mysterious and complicated.” Julian remarked.

 

“We Oum are a secretive bunch. Our feelings run very deep for others even though we don't always express the depths of our regard.” Gaven mused as he rested his eyes.

 

“I'll keep that in mind.” Julian muttered watching Gaven in his repose and wondering at his choice of disclosures.

 

Julian knew he should leave and let Gaven rest, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. It felt strangely natural and intimate to be with him in his personal space and Julian suddenly found the comforts of his own empty quarters to feel dreary and unappealing.

 

“Gaven…” Julian said at length, not even fully certain of what he wanted to say.

 

“Hm?” Gaven opened his eyes slowly and rolled his head to look at him.

 

“Gaven it's getting awfully early. I should probably leave soon and let you sleep. I…” Julian was going to go on but Gaven cut him off.

 

“It is early and you're just as tired as I am. Why not just sleep here? If you'd wanted to go home, you would have by now.” Gaven said quietly. “You and I are at a point in our friendship where I would hope that you wouldn't worry about trespassing on my hospitality.”

 

“Still, I know that you prefer your privacy.” Julian remarked, still trying to process the fact that Gaven was inviting him to stay.

 

Gaven who had gone back to resting his eyes, opened them once more to look at him. “You don't have to stay of course, but I can promise my nightmares aren't as poignant as they used to be. It's alright, Julian. If you want to stay, then you're welcome.”

 

Julian peered down at his lap. Trying to not think about what he really wanted. Again, he wondered whether Gaven realized how attracted Julian was to him. He wondered what it might take for Gaven to see that friendship wasn't the only thing on Julian's mind these days.

 

“Well…” He said at length. “where shall I camp out?”

 

A smile of satisfaction slid across Gaven's face. “The bed is big enough for both of us if you’re not shy. You've certainly slept there before.”

 

“Yes well, I'd still like to know why you weathered that night so easily. That mead didn't seem to have any effect.” Julian remarked.

 

“I looked into that actually. The blue hue is caused by type of root that apparently my metabolism greatly enjoys. As a result, I was able to neutralize the components and thus in that case…”

 

“Not embarrass the Hell out of yourself?” Julian inserted for him with a chuckle.

 

“Indeed.” Gaven agreed. “Come on. I’ll loan you something to sleep in.”  

 

For the last time Julian hoisted Gaven off the sofa and they both padded into the bedroom where Gaven promptly threw a change of clothes at him. Fatigue was finally taking over now that they were properly fed and talked out. If Julian was worried it might be awkward for him, it became quickly evident that they were both too tired to care about any real or imagined impropriety. When Gaven settled into his preferred spot he seemed genuinely relaxed and almost immediately sighed and settled onto his side facing the wall. Julian climbed in next to him once he was dressed and curled the other way.

 

“Sleep well, Gaven.” Julian murmured though he sensed Gaven had already drifted into sleep.

 

Both men slept long and deep occasionally shifting their positions. True to his word, Gaven seemed to make it through their slumber without incident stirring significantly only once when Julian’s murmurs woke him up. Laying on his stomach at the time Gaven turned his head towards Julian to listen, now ever attuned to any sign of distress coming from the doctor. But Julian’s words were mostly intelligible as he muttered something along the lines of... “You’ve made a mess, Kukalaka. We’ll need to restitch your leg.”

 

Gaven wasn’t sure who or what a Kukalaka was, but he eventually dismissed it and shut his eyes again, opening them briefly once more when he felt Julian shift towards him and curl his arm around his waist like a child clinging to his stuffed toy. Checking on him once more to ensure he was right and truly at peace, Gaven sighed deeply into his mattress.

 

Julian could be so boyish sometimes. His spirit would be forever young all the days of his life, Gaven was sure. By contrast Gaven felt old and worn. He was a leathery battered book filled with histories that no longer held any context in the void of space. In some ways they had become an unlikely pair of friends with the core of their dynamic centered around a need for understanding and comfort. If there was something more to it for him, Gaven couldn’t bring himself to allow the truth to frame itself in his mind. He didn’t dare consider deeper possibilities. Possibilities that explained why Julian had followed him home and why Gaven had encouraged him to stay. Gaven understood that the closeness of their repeated contact was unorthodox. Less unorthodox for Gaven and his kind than for many of the other species of people he’d met since being off Oum, but notable enough.

 

Gaven wasn't ready to examine his feelings such as they might be about Julian. He just knew the man was slowly becoming an essential figure in his life. Although he was well acquainted with many people on the station by now, he felt that when it was time to move on that he'd be able to part from them seamlessly. Julian was a somewhat different matter, and Gaven wasn't sure if the difference were due to his own emotional attachments or if it were because he knew that Julian would take his leaving harder than the others.

 

Gaven allowed himself to briefly focus on the weight and warmth of Julian's arm curled around him innocently. For a moment Gaven considered shifting his position to face Julian instinctively knowing that Julian would probably sidle in closer to him if he did. The thought of holding him through the rest of the night felt deeply tempting mostly because he knew Julian wouldn't object and that they both would benefit from the act. But he realized that under the circumstances such a gesture would be perceived as being too intimate and he didn't want to risk leading Julian on. Instead, shaking his head at himself, Gaven stirred and slowly turned the other way moving back onto his side to face the wall once more.

 

Not unexpectedly, Julian stirred as well muttering intelligibly as he pulled the gap between them closed and continued his steady repose with his face buried between the mattress and the middle of Gaven's back.

 

Satisfied with this compromise Gaven let out a long cleansing breath and settled deeper into his blanket as he let his own arm and hand rest over Julian's curled grasp. With nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do Gaven and Julian went on resting together. Surrounded in a heavy kind of peace neither could generate on their own.

 

Chapter 33: Significant Meetings

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Three: Significant Meetings

 

 It was nearly three in the afternoon when Julian finally woke up almost completely unaware of what time it was or where exactly he was. All he knew was that it felt like he’d slept forever. Or maybe it just felt like he’d slept better than he had in a long while. In either case, it felt wonderfully indulgent. Blinking a few times against the mattress he was still face planted in, Julian realized part of his face was also pressed partially into warm firm skin. Breathing in deeply, Julian immediately understood on scent alone it was Gaven and the realization made his head swim. The whole bed smelled of him really. Roses and juniper. It was an intriguing mixture of floral and woodsy smells mixed with salt. Julian could tell he was partially nuzzled into the middle of Gaven’s back because he could feel where Gaven’s open night shirt had ridden up and he could hear his steady breathing and feel his chest expand and collapse.

 

The other thing he realized was that his arm was tucked around Gaven’s waist and that Gaven’s own arm was keeping it there as he clutched Julian’s hand to his abdomen in a protective manner. They were holding each other, Julian realized. Well...It felt more like Julian had imposed on him in his sleep and Gaven had been nice enough to hold onto him.

 

Regardless, it felt impossibly safe and comforting so Julian couldn’t resist remaining as he was for a long time. Though technically awake he allowed himself to soak the experience in knowing that sooner or later he’d have to move from him. Murmuring, Julian did eventually adjust his position for Gaven’s benefit figuring it might not be exactly comfortable to have Julian’s face smooshed into his back like it was. Instead, he gently pulled away just enough to uncurl himself and resettle more completely against him without having to move his arm away. Julian knew Gaven wouldn’t have wanted him to startle and pull away just because they’d ended up in a more intimate position together. It was about trust between them.

 

For a little while Julian settled back into a light doze, waking only when he felt Gaven wake as well and stretch in place.

 

“Well, Hello.” Gaven muttered in a hazy manner. “Did you sleep alright?”

 

“Yes.” Julian breathed. “Did you?”

 

“I did.” Gaven assured him. “I, huh, suppose we have to get up eventually.”

 

“Eventually, yes.” Julian agreed.

 

 He felt no such desire to get up.

 

Not when the alternative was feeling the way he presently did.

 

Julian searched for tension in Gaven without letting on that he was, but he felt and sensed none. It made him wonder things, but he wasn’t ready to ask about them yet.

 

“Did you want some coffee?” Gaven asked with a sigh.

 

“I think I can handle coffee. What time do you think it is?” Julian asked nonchalantly.

 

“About three in the afternoon.” Gaven replied. “I’ll get it. You stay put. Your time to fetch and carry for me, Doctor, is up.”

 

Finally, Gaven began to move, sitting up and gently releasing Julian’s wrist before he rubbed at his face and padded carefully out of the room.

 

When he was out of sight Julian groaned softly and rolled over onto his stomach again to hide his face in the mattress.

 

“What the Hell am I doing?” He mumbled to himself.

 

A short time later Gaven returned to pass him his mug as he settled into the chair beside the bed.

 

“What are you going to do today?” Gaven asked, knowing they were still expected to be off duty.

 

“I’ll probably pop in on Dax in the lab and then see if Miles wants to meet up later. Keiko, as you know, is away now and Miles isn’t used to watching the baby by himself for this long. He’s convinced that he’s going to fuss. What about you?” Julian asked before taking an exceedingly long sip of his coffee for courage.

 

“I need to pick up some things from Mr. Garak and then I wanted to stop by and speak to Mr. Worf. I have a favor to ask him.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Oh? That’s cryptic. What kind of favor could you need from Worf of all people?” Julian inquired lightly as he rubbed his free hand through his mussed hair.

 

“I’m interested in some self-defense training and wanted to ask his advice.” Gaven explained. “On Oum I never had much call for it. Our species is generally pacifistic in nature. But now, it might come in handy.”

 

“I suppose you’re not wrong. Though I recommend if you’re going to be learning technique with Worf that you let me fix that leg of yours first. Do you not know how to fight at all?” Julian found this information interesting especially since Garak had told him in theatrical detail about the time Gaven had threatened to dispatch Dukat when he’d attacked Garak in Quark’s awhile back.

 

“I have my defenses.” Gaven said ambiguously. “But they won't work if I’m caught by surprise or with an overly aggressive assailant. I suppose you're right about the leg.”

 

“By the Prophet’s, someone hold my coffee. You’re not hinting that you're actually going to let me fix it are you because if you are, we should get dressed right now.” Julian muttered, unable to cover the air of excitement over the idea.

 

Gaven couldn’t help but smile lightly at the Doctor’s eagerness. He would have rather not bothered and they both knew it. Still, Julian’s advice on the subject was sound. Gaven didn’t really have a good excuse not to correct the issue and had he not treated himself with masochistic barbarity on Gulba IV, he wouldn’t have injured himself to begin with. There was a part of Gaven that didn’t want Julian to think he’d hurt himself on purpose, but the rest of him felt no real shame in it. The Oum understood that some kinds of healing required discipline of the self.

 

“I did promise we would talk about it again.” Gaven conceded.

 

“Yes. Preferably when you could be more resistant about it, as I recall.” Julian reminded him.

 

Gaven looked up at him with squinted eyes. “I prefer not to resist you when you’re right. Though we’ll have to put it off for a day or two if you don’t mind.”

 

Julian watched him a moment unmoving and then took a smaller sip of his coffee. “I don’t mind. You tell me when you want it done and we’ll take care of it.”

 

Gaven nodded once in quiet agreement and they went on idly talking for a half hour more before Julian finally pulled the plug at his third cup of coffee. Gaven left him then to dress while he cleaned up after them.

 

“Well, well. I guess this is goodbye for now, Doctor.” Julian muttered.

 

Julian was back in his semi-casual uniform since it was all he’d worn there; it wasn’t exactly clean, but it would have to do until he got home. When it was time to go Gaven walked him to the door.

 

“Perhaps I'll see you later, thank you for dinner.” Gaven said.

 

“I'll be at Quark’s one way or another tonight so don't feel like you can't come out. Thank you for letting me sleep over.” By now Julian had started to realize that touch was likely an important aspect of the Oum social norms and so on instinct he leaned in to give Gaven a farewell hug as he took hold of his left forearm and tugged him into a warm brisk embrace giving has back a thud or two.

 

When he pulled back, he briefly caught a glimpse of surprise upon Gaven's face that was quickly covered with placidity.

 

“I’ll think about it. Say Hello to Jadzia for me.” He replied in a airy fashion.



~@~

True to his word Julian went directly home, took a long much needed shower, got dressed and headed back out. He was due to meet Miles but the poor man, by all accounts around the station, was having a rough time finding childcare and it was unclear when Julian would see him appear. His first priority before heading over to Quark’s though was to stop into the Lab. While he knew Jadzia wouldn’t let him get away with horning in on her time with their experiment, he also knew she would likely enjoy a short break from her duties.

 

“Well, there you are.” Jadzia remarked, when she caught sight of Julian hovering in the lab’s doorway bearing gifts of a cold ham sandwich and coleslaw for her to enjoy.

 

“Hello Dax. Hungry?” He said shaking the small paper bag at her.

 

“Starved. Hold on I’ll come out.” Jadzia put down her data pad she’d be using to compare information and came around the worktable to meet him in the other room.

 

“Well? How is everything going?” Julian inquired trying not to sound too eager.

 

“Really well. This might actually work, Julian. The data is already looking very promising. I’ll have a full report written up for you to review in the morning.” They moved into the conference room together as Dax snatched her dinner from him.

 

“You know, I came by your quarters earlier today on my lunch break hoping to catch you but, interestingly, you weren’t home. “ Her tone implied she was keenly interested to know where he had been all day if he wasn’t  passed out in his quarters.

 

“No. I was over at Gaven's taking coffee.” Julian said evenly not bothering to give any indication of when he'd gone over and how long he had been there.

 

“Oh. That's very interesting. Seems like you two are becoming very well acquainted.” Dax muttered daintily.

 

“Yes. We've become good friends in recent months.” Julian agreed nonchalantly sensing Dax feeling out something.

 

“Well, it's nice to see that he's decided to let you in. Must be a dream come true. I remember how upset you were when he seemed reluctant to be friends. “ Dax remarked.

 

She was only half right. Gaven had let him in, up to a point. But now just as they were becoming solid friends, friendship wasn't the limit of what Julian felt and wanted from him. Maybe, true to her original suggestion, it never had been what he wanted.

 

“So, I take it then that your rock-climbing outing was successful?” Jadzia went on.

 

“Yes, it was.” Julian agreed.

 

“Julian, would you stop that! Why are you answering all of my questions with yes no answers?” Jadzia narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously before they burst open. “ Julian . Is something going on between you and Gaven?”

 

The question was said in an excited though muted hiss.

 

Julian hadn’t planned on telling anyone of his recent experiences but then again, he sensed that confiding in someone would bring him a certain amount of relief and Jadzia had always been perceptive enough about his antics that it was rarely easy to hide much from her.

 

“Yes and no. I...I don’t know.” He admitted quietly. Confusion was evident in his tone.

 

“Julian, you two didn't…” Jadzia began keeping her voice low.

 

“No. It's been nothing like that.” He replied knowing what she was asking. “It's just been little things. A touch here a word there. An intimate feeling that wasn't there before. It's hard to know what to make of it. He is an Oum after all. Whether or not that has any bearing on things, I don't think I'm imagining his growing affections.”

 

Jadzia found his cautious air fascinating. She’d never seen Julian so concerned over a potential love interest.

 

“OK. How do you feel about him?” She asked.

 

“Gaven is...A special man. I know some people might think he’s austere, but really he’s just very complex. I certainly would like to be with him, but I can sense that he holds himself back and so as close as we’ve become, I just can’t seem to close the final gap between us.”

 

“Hm.” Jadzia nodded, understanding the situation now. “Have you told him any of this?”

 

The look on Julian’s face said that he hadn’t.

 

“You should. I mean...It sounds like he has some inkling. Gaven’s a pretty fair and perceptive person. I’m sure if you just sat down and talked about it with him, he would take the conversation in stride.” Jadzia advised him.

 

“I know. You’re probably right. But...I feel like it just isn’t the right time.” Julian confided with a sigh.

 

“If you say so. If I were you though, Julian? I wouldn’t wait too long. Doctor Ore may not always be here on the station and I don’t necessarily think you’re the only one who realizes what a wonderful person he is.” Jadzia cautioned him.

 

~@~

 

Gaven lingered in his quarters longer than Julian had lingered in his own. After showering he’d allowed himself a short session of meditation and cleansing, just enough to keep his moods even before he dressed and headed out to the promenade. As was his habit now, more out of superstition than anything else, Gaven wore the hoodie that Fisk had given him and traveled as unobtrusively as possible.

 

“Ah Doctor, your right on time for your final fitting.” Garak remarked when he saw Gaven enter the shop.

 

“I have everything ready for you. I must say your people’s common contours say some fascinating things about them.” Garak said in a mildly baiting fashion that he knew Gaven would immediately pick up on.

 

“You are the expert, Mr. Garak. I’ll be sure to take your word for it. Fashion was never an area of interest of mine.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Mm. However true that may be, your designs were rather good. You’re obviously a man of many latent talents. Now, let’s get you into these. I want to check the length on them. A quarter of an inch too long or too short can destroy the proper effect of a garment.” Garak as was his practice with Gaven, because he liked the man so much took him by the arm and ushered him into the changing area in the back of the shop. It was a large space big enough to allow Garak to do adjustments to everything on the spot if they were necessary.

 

Gaven dutifully went to the back and after the curtain was drawn for their privacy, he began to strip down hesitating only for the briefest of seconds at the knowledge he was about to expose himself to someone new. Gaven wasn’t usually the self-conscious kind but his time off planet had trained him towards caution. Now though it was common knowledge that he wasn’t human so the existence of his biological anomalies should not have surprised anyone.

 

Oum fashion was as, Garak had surmised, largely about function.

 

With such a wide range of physical abilities the Oum generally preferred unisex garments, without sizing, that could be adjusted to the needs of the wearer. In Gaven’s case though there was some room for more form because of the kind of Oum that he was. Nevertheless, his requests of Garak were still characteristically Oum. Garak had made him four sets of regular garments.

 

The first was a reflective gray zippered jacket with a high collar. A short blue-green cloak was meant to be paired with it. The second was a long-skirted garment close fitting in the chest, shoulders, and sleeves done in a green. Two pieces. It was remarkably like the actual color of Gaven’s eyes before they had been cosmetically muted. This was the one Garak was likely most keen on fitting to him and Gaven’s breath caught slightly at the exquisite quality. His own sketches had not done the result justice and yet Garak had captured it in a manner that was breathtakingly reminiscent of his people only of much richer quality than he would have been used to seeing.

 

The third was something less Oum-like but no less flattering. It consisted of burnt orange trousers, a slightly reflective coal button down with a high collar, a well fitted and hooded navy jacket and cognac fingerless gloves. Gaven understood this was Garak’s attempt to give him something that married Gaven’s style with that of those on the station.

 

Finally, there was the last garment and this time Gaven did make an audible gasp as he lifted it up for inspection. It was a rich and reflective tomato red size-less high collared jacket that flowed nearly to the shin. Black ties were meant to be crossed along the chest pressing the fabric to the body and the sleeves were long and open and were meant, when down, to conceal one's hands. The fabric was lightweight but durable. Gaven suspected it was also waterproof, a touch he hadn’t asked for but that was appropriate to Oum function.

 

Garak watched the display of behavior with fascination. Modesty, he noted was not a factor with Gaven. He carried no shame for his physical form like many other people did and he was both unconsciously graceful and meticulously deliberate in his movements. Garak noticed he took some time examining the various garments as if he were imprinting every aspect of them upon his psyche. Of the lot of the four, Garak was most proud of the last one which he’d largely guessed on. It was the most detailed of the sketches Gaven had left with him. The color pallet was also of Garak’s own devising except for the suit he’d made which was not included among the present offerings.

 

Along with his fascinating behavior, Garak was sure not to miss Gaven’s physical display as he stood nearly completely naked in the center of the room. Garak was retired off to the side careful to give an air of respect while also affording him an ample full body view. Gaven was tall and broad but not over developed. He had the kind of form that told Garak the man wasn’t unused to physical labor. The abdominal slits were a surprise but only if one forgot that Gaven wasn’t human. Garak was not the type to forget details that had been revealed to him and he had known some of the truth long before everyone else had caught on. Now and then, Garak caught Gaven in profile and in these moments a significant lack of definition was clear. If there was any other indication that he was not a human man, it was this lack of definition that made it most obvious.

 

The observation begged all kinds of interesting and risqué questions. What a pity, Garak thought, that the good Doctor kept so little personal company. How was one to work on such a man?

 

Garak’s rapt attention was quickly sidelined when he heard Gaven gasp.

 

The sound sent a vibrant thrill up the Cardassian’s spine and Garak couldn’t help it as a Cheshire grin curled upon his sly features while his depraved imagination worked overtime to conjure up a dozen other ways that he might have coaxed the gasp from Gaven’s lips. It wasn’t so much that Garak wanted Gaven for himself. The thought, in fact, never crossed his mind. The middle aged Cardassian spy simply liked to keep his best skills ever present in his mind as his languid time on the station gave him so few opportunities to demonstrate his better talents.

 

“This....This is nearly perfect. The structure of it is just as it should be.” Gaven remarked, as he set the other sets aside neatly to unfold the final piece. Gaven limped backwards and when he had enough space, he shook the garment out once with a snap and in one fluid motion threw it about himself. Due to its size-less design it fit immaculately as he wrapped it expertly around himself and secured the ties.

 

“Nearly perfect? How might it be improved?” Garak asked coming to stand behind him as he assisted by adjusting the hood and smoothing the slightly twisted straps from behind delicately.

 

“See here and here?” Gaven lifted the inside of the robe like jacket and displayed them for Garak. “There should be pockets along here and here. Other than that? It’s utter perfection. Thank you.” Gaven said earnestly.

 

 “Mm. What do you think of the color? Not too ostentatious?” There was just a hint of feigned concern over the detail edging Garak’s tone. Whether he actually cared or not was one of the true mysteries about Garak who sometimes laced his lies with larger truths.

 

Gaven turned then, a soft smile sweeping onto his face.

 

Garak had instinctively backed off so that he could watch the garment move and listen to it rustle lightly. Against Gaven’s dark hair and large eyes, the color infused a vibrancy into his energy that until now had felt dull and beaten down. What a gentle innocent sort he must have been in his youth. Garak could see hints of the youthful young man Gaven had likely been. The whiff was beautifully alluring, and it was the shared quality that attracted Garak to all his loves. Ziyal, as well as Julian. It occurred to him that Gaven had no real notion of how beautiful he was, especially in his happiness.

 

“It’s something of a virginal color on my homeworld, put perhaps that’s appropriate now.” Gaven remarked coloring ever so slightly from his delight.

 

“Oh, doctor? That’s an interesting cultural detail. Have you not found any romance since being on the station?” Garak asked briskly. Since Gaven had created an opening for the subject it gave him an excuse to be deliciously forward.

 

“I certainly have a sense that I’m admired. But I’m afraid I’m just not ready for…” Gaven found himself quickly interrupted.

 

“There’s your problem. Love and romance aren’t about what you’re ready for, Doctor. I should think you know better than that. Now if you’re afraid, that’s another matter. Given what I suspect your history is, I can’t say I’m very surprised. But at some point, my good man, you just must simply throw caution to the wind. People are like that garment your wearing. They need to move and breathe. You certainly have been in love before. I can see it in your face. The steps don’t change.” Garak reminded him.

 

“No. I suppose they don’t.” Gaven agreed.

 

“Right. Not to mention there are alternatives to love. Perhaps you should consider taking a lover instead.” Garak recommended. “That young Vulcan of yours, perhaps.”

 

Gaven scoffed, slipping out of the garment to hand it back to Garak so that he could make the wanted adjustments.

 

“I believe Jyrrus Cheval is spoken for.” Gaven said decidedly.

 

“Hm. Are you quite sure about that?” Garak didn’t seem remotely convinced.

 

“I am. May I ask you something? What is it with most of the humanoids here? I’ve had quite a few people remark on the nature of my personal relationships lately.” Gaven inquired.

 

“Um...Hm. Let me ask you this. Of the people who have brought up your romantic status in recent months, how many of them were in relationships of their own?” Garak posed to him.

 

Gaven thought about it for a moment. “None. Why?”

 

“Oh, it’s just a theory I have. You see people who are nosy about other people's sex lives and romances tend, I find, to not be happily preoccupied in their own lives. Such people seem to fall into one of two camps. The curious romantic who wants to live vicariously through their friends and colleagues intrigues and the lonely hearts who are secretly trying to investigate the landscape before they proclaim their own amorous intentions. I have never seen it fail.” Garak explained.

 

“I see. And um, which camp do you fall into, Sir?” Gaven asked bluntly.

 

“Oh doctor!” Garak proclaimed coyly. “I do confess I am a terrible romantic who loves to roll about in other people’s intrigues. I find it helps keep an otherwise banal life interesting. As of late I’m a trifle preoccupied with my own personal affairs but make no mistake I am well aware just how exceptional you are and If I thought for one moment that I was your only resort...Well, I must say, engaging you would be a mighty temptation indeed. Though as things stand, I do believe I would need to get in line .”

 

Gaven furrowed his brows at Garak’s speech. Even when the man was being honest, he spun his truths in such a way that it made one feel dizzy and displaced.

 

Gaven understood the underlying message though. It said; If I wanted you for myself, Doctor, I would have you. But there are others just a little too eager to have a chance with you first.

 

The subject ended at that point and Gaven went on to try on the other garments. Most of them only needed minor tweaks which Garak was equipped to do on the spot or in short order. The suit he’d been preparing needed further tuning based on the adjustments of the other garments and Garak promised to deliver the final result in person once it was ready. The rest Gaven could take with him at the end of their session.

 

For his final errand, Gaven caught Worf at home.

 

As always, Gaven had given Worf ample notice that he wanted to meet with him and Worf had agreed to set up a time just after dinner.

 

“Doctor Ore. Please come in.” Worf said upon greeting him at the door.

 

As usual Worf was stoic but as with his friends and those he liked, he projected a warm, if stern, energy.

 

“Thank you, Mr. Worf.” Gaven nodded.

 

“Do make yourself...Comfortable. What can I do for you?” Worf inquired.

 

“As my written communications indicated, I’m looking for some help with an appropriate self-defense program.” Gaven began knowing this was covered territory.

 

“There are many options available to you. You mentioned you’re interest but not your motivations in seeking them. Would you care to elaborate on them now so that I can better direct you?” Worf encouraged.

 

Gaven sighed and settled into one of the sofas.

 

“The training isn’t actually for me, although I’m sure I would benefit from it as well. You are aware that Jyrrus Cheval, one of the young Vulcan ambassadors, has been staying here on the station. You’re also no doubt aware that he is a close personal friend of mine and as you might imagine, as his friend I take a keen personal interest in his wellbeing. A while ago, Cheval came to me and informed me he was due to return to Vulcan at some point soon. He is to be married however it seems that a potential complication has surfaced. It’s possible his intended may try to break their betrothal and enact the challenge of Koon-ut-kal-fee.” Gaven explained.

 

“Mm. I see. I am familiar with the ritual.” Worf remarked, hemming in his Klingon way.

 

“Privately, I am of course against the idea, but I would not dishonor Cheval by trying to dissuade him from it. I understand the cultural importance of such rituals. We Oum, as you know, have our own death rites and honorable practices regarding our interpersonal commitments. I want to be clear that it is not my intention to stop him...I would just like to help him confront this experience with honor.” Gaven explained with his signature sincerity and frankness.

 

“How inexperienced is Jyrrus with close combat?” Worf inquired.

 

“Like most Vulcan's he has been acquainted with the disciplines of standard Vulcan self-defense, but he lacks real proficiency and confidence in his capabilities.” Gaven sighed again and rubbed at his temples. “Whatever happens, I would like him to have some semblance of a chance and if he is to fall, I would like to see that it wasn't without effort to bring him down.”

 

“I understand, Doctor. It would not be desirable to see him slaughtered. Perhaps with further help he might even achieve victory.” Worf proposed.

 

It was clear that Gaven was disturbed by the whole business. Worf respected how hard he was working in this present moment to be tolerant of the situation.

 

“How long does he have?” Worf asked, already mentally planning.

 

“How long will it take?” Gaven countered resting his hands on his knees.

 

Worf growled in thought. Normally he might have indignantly remarked that time was inconsequential in the mastery of close combat, but in Cheval's case time really was limited and so he refrained.

 

“Eighteen weeks would be ideal to grasp the fundamentals if the commitment is there.” Worf estimated.

 

“I know Jyrrus. He will commit. And so, will I. I'll not let him do it alone and, in any case, he has requested that I return to Vulcan with him for support. If I can find another way to stabilize this situation, I will do it. If it comes down to fighting for his life, then I will bear witness for him.” Gaven promised.

 

“If I may ask, what exactly does his betrothed object to?” Though Worf usually liked to avoid gossip, he felt the detail was pertinent to the situation.

 

“She objects to me, Mr. Worf. She objects to me.” Gaven repeated, the second time there was a resigned sound in the words. “I can't say I really blame her. You see Jyrrus was the reason I was pulled out of space. For whatever reason, the psychic distress signal I was projecting was caught by him and he implored the freighter crew he was traveling with to investigate. Later, when our minds melded for the first time something happened and now an echo of each other’s psyches remain. Ever apart, yet ever together.”

 

“I see.” Worf muttered.

 

“It is my hope that if I go with him back to Vulcan and manage to sort out our psychic entanglement, we can perhaps avoid further conflict all together. Jyrrus loves T’Yel. He is determined to be bound to her if she will allow it. This mistrust regarding his commitment to her is my fault and one way or another I must correct it. Though if T’Yel still insists upon initiating the rite of Koon-ut-kal-fee, I fear my efforts may be in vain even if I manage to break our disruptive bond. So here I am asking for your help and guidance.”

 

“It is a noble and worthy thing. If Jyrrus Is truly in agreement with your plan, then I will help prepare you.” Worf agreed.

Chapter 34: A Vision In Green

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Four: A Vision In Green

 

Gaven spent some time setting up plans with Worf. The real meat of their plans would have to wait till Cheval returned but by the end of their discussion both men were satisfied and in good spirits. Soon Gaven wrapped up his discussion and made plans to follow up later. Worf then showed him out and wished him well.

 

Gaven soon returned home to rest awhile before he considered going out again. Setting his new clothes neatly atop a dresser like alcove in his bedroom, Gaven sighed and settled down a top his bed to reflect on his day.

 

His thoughts of course naturally fluttered in Julian's direction. In retrospect, Gaven realized the events of the last twenty-four hours marked a kind of turning point. One that required Gaven to have to examine himself. At any other time since being on the station Gaven would never have entertained the notion of inviting someone into his quarters the way he had with Julian.

 

Why had he done it?

 

The simple answer was that he hadn't wanted to be alone. The more complex answer was that he hadn't wanted to be without Julian. The admittance of this truth within his own mind caused Gaven to audibly groan and drape his hand over his face.

 

It occurred to him that he didn't know what to do now. He was not so foolish to think that Julian had simply gone along with it all out of platonic friendship. The growing intimacy between them was palatable. Gaven reminded himself that Julian was the type to wear his feelings plainly, especially now that he no longer had to hide who and what he was.

 

Gaven wanted, in turn, to be as transparent and honest with Julian as possible but before he could properly confront the situation, he understood that he had to come to terms with being honest with himself first.

 

For the immediate moment, the next question was whether he planned to go out that night.

 

Julian had left his invitation open ended giving Gaven the privilege of staying in without guilt if he wanted to or joining him and Miles while they played darts.

 

The debate over how to handle the situation was real. On one hand it wasn't uncommon for Gaven to sit quietly by himself at Quark’s and he'd socialized with Cheval there enough that most people were no longer surprised by it. On the other hand, this time he wasn't just sitting about taking a quiet meal. This situation wasn't like meeting up casually with Cheval, this was Julian. If he showed up, then Julian would know that it was only because he had asked that Gaven be there. It was a simple distinction that wouldn’t have mattered to him if they were assuredly just trying to be friends.

 

Feeling stressed, Gaven sat up in bed and set his legs down along the side as he rested his elbows on his knees and, leaning forward, he cupped his face in his hands. His deep sense of conflict over his feelings confused and frustrated him. He was confused because he sensed that Julian expected something from him, and he didn’t fully understand what that something was or if he could deliver it. He felt frustrated because the other pressures of his life were demanding more time and attention from him than his situation with Julian was. His work with Starfleet which Julian was a strong partner in, his commitment to helping Cheval, and his focus on trying to quietly re-frame and rebuild his life were all much larger focal points that needed to be fully addressed before he was free to do as he wanted.

 

“I want you, Julian. But I must make a place for myself first. Please forgive me my discretion.” Gaven muttered to himself, almost like a prayer.

 

Sighing, he pulled his hands slowly away from his face and glanced randomly up. The clothes Garak had made for him caught his glance just then.

 

Narrowing his eyes at them, Gaven made his decision. Julian’s invitation notwithstanding, perhaps it was time to do something purely for himself.

 

~@~

 

[1]Eventually, Julian was able to catch up with Miles. It had taken a little time. Miles had failed to find any help with Kirayoshi for the night, so he'd simply brought the infant along with him to Quark’s for lack of a better option.

 

Being fond of babies, Julian didn't mind. They met at their usual spot and went into a rousing first game together. Julian was nice enough to increase his usual handicap with an extra couple of drinks, since Miles was stuck having to throw his darts with Kirayoshi cradled in his free arm. It seemed only fair.

 

“Go ahead. Beat that, Chief.” Julian encouraged briskly when he still managed an excellent hit even with extra distance and a pleasant buzz on board.

 

“Come on, Yoshi. It may not seem fair to force the good doctor to throw from farther away, but…he is genetically engineered.” Miles muttered conversationally to his son as he swept up his darts and took position.

 

Julian chuckled at his insult, but then interfered when he saw that Miles was still holding Yoshi in his arm while he intended to throw.

 

“Uh...Chief. Don't you think you should put the baby down?” He gently inquired.

 

Miles only snorted at him. “I haven't put Yoshi down for a week. If I can carry him at work, I can carry him here.”

 

“Yes, but there must be some babysitter on the station that can pacify him.” Julian argued innocently.

 

“You want to bet?” Miles challenged.

 

“But...You can't hold him forever. You've already got one bad shoulder.” Julian pressed with less confidence.

 

“Okay.” Miles muttered in a tone that said he was in the mood to school Julian about something. “You want me to put the baby down? Fine. I'll put the baby down.”

 

Miles moved over to a nearby table and gently eased Kirayoshi down onto his back in its center. The moment Miles was no longer in direct contact with him anymore the baby began to fuss in protest and then loudly cry.

 

“Happy?” Miles chirped.

 

“It’s amazing.” Julian muttered in charmed disbelief at the turn around.

 

“No, no. This is amazing.” Miles corrected him.

 

The second Miles settled Yoshi back in the crook of his arm, the baby settled again and began cooing much to the continued astonishment of Julian who had never seen an infant react so swiftly and on cue.

 

“Yes. Ha, now if you'll excuse me? It's my turn to throw.” Miles said with fatherly triumph as he picked up his darts again and moved back into position.

 

After he was through Julian encouraged him to put Yoshi down again so that he could try and sooth him for Miles. But sure enough even when Julian tried to hold him the baby fussed and cried until Miles took him back.

 

“What did I tell you before.” He muttered.

 

“Yes, well it defies medical understanding. There's certainly nothing wrong with him that I can see, I guess you were right.” Julian conceded.

 

“Mmhm. Fathers know these things.” Miles muttered knowingly. “So, have you talked with Gaven yet about…You know?”

 

“All in good time. I'd rather not rock the boat just yet.” Julian mused.

 

“What's there to be rocked? You’re not interested in marrying the man. You just want to take things deeper than you currently are. What's the worst that could happen?” Miles inquired.

 

“You mean, besides abject rejection? Oh, you know, the usual. Damage to our friendship, damage to our professional relationship. The annoyance of idle gossip...” Julian went on lightly in a subtly manic tone.

 

“Stop that now. Your being utterly ridiculous. Gaven is not the kind of fellow to let a potential disagreement derail his entire relationship with someone. He’s also not a stupid man and considering the level of canoodling the two of you have been up to in the last twenty-four hours, as far as I'm concerned, you’re behaving like a right settled couple.  The both of you are just too afraid to say anything about it to the other.” Miles asserted.

 

Naturally, Julian had brought Miles up to date on what had happened after he'd walked Gaven home.

 

“I'm not afraid to talk to him about it. I'm just not sure when I should say something or how.” Julian said defensively.

 

“Sure. Whatever you say. Let me ask you this. If Gaven were a woman how would you handle it?” Miles inquired. “I mean, generally speaking.”

 

“Frankly, I've never had to handle it. Most of the women I've dated all pursued me, not the other way around.” Julian confessed. “Palis simply told me we were dating one day and when it was time to end it, we both agreed. Melora and I sort of mutually came to it and when she decided to not go through with her surgery and she moved onto another assignment elsewhere, I let her go. Leeta faked a cold and then asked me out...You know how that one went. Breaking up was her idea as well. So, you see I don't have a lot of experience...Taking the lead.”

 

“Huh. I Guess I never realized. You know Julian, I don't think I've really appreciated until now how sensitive you actually are about love and romance. I guess I just assumed that because you pursued Dax so aggressively…” Miles mused.

 

“Dax was a different matter. For one she isn't just a woman and for another I think we all know I never stood a chance in Hell of winning her over and so it was easy to throw myself at her. I had nothing to lose.” Julian explained with a shrug. “And that’s game. I win. Want to go again?”

 

Miles groaned. “You weren't even properly looking that time and you still hit your mark. Guh, I think I'll just sit down for a minute. Why don't you go...Get us a few drinks or something.”

 

Julian chuckled at Miles bad humor. Despite being clearly tired he knew Miles would be up for at least another game or two before he became absolutely disgusted and went home for the night.

 

While Julian went down to the Bar to set up their tab, Gaven was in the process of getting ready to leave.

 

It had taken a little while to get a hold of the extra things he'd needed, a trip to one of the promenade shops and a stopover in the infirmary to pick up a leg brace that would reduce his need for the forearm crutch if he were well rested had been required.

 

Among the offerings that Garak had made for him, Gaven selected the form fitting green ensemble. It was indeed beautiful and Gaven allowed himself to reflect on its grandeur. The Ner household on Oum had, in Gaven's youth, been considered affluent though decidedly conservative. Opulence had never been encouraged and everyone in the Ner household had been content to live by that standard.

 

As a bonded Oum, Gaven had always gone along with the expectation of his house and life station. The bonded were meant to be ever unobtrusive and as invisible as possible. That was all fine and good, Gaven respected what he was and who he had been. But it was now time to accept that he wasn't a bonded Oum anymore. Gaven was a free person and it was time to start embracing that without shame because out on the frontier no one cared whether he chose to live up to his people's traditions.

 

While Gaven had no intention of going out and doing something crazy, he was at least willing now to bend in simpler ways like the way he dressed and carried himself.

 

Gaven slipped into the green ensemble.

It was amazingly comfortable and accentuated his height and the straight lines of his body. Gaven was a mixture of lean, broad, strength and a kind of innocent beauty. Standing in his bedroom before the vanity he subtly trimmed his glossy mess of dark curls. Though his skin and eye pigment remained altered and suppressed, Gaven carefully mixed the cosmetics he'd bought to bring out his Oum coloring more. A pale shimmer was applied to his lips and the large shape of his eyes was darkened and accentuated. By the time he was done Gaven looked like an imposing beautiful dark fairy. The effort had freshened him and brought forward much of his natural beauty of which he was mostly oblivious to.

 

Satisfied with the result, Gaven sighed and stepped back to examine himself more fully. All in all, it occurred to him that he finally looked like a proper Oum again since leaving his homeworld.

 

It was almost startling.

 

Gaven sighed again and reminded himself once more what the point of going out like this was. It was time to stop hiding so much. It was time to live his life.

 

~@~

 

Julian had been waiting at the bar when Gaven arrived.

 

Quark’s was busy that night and due to some entanglement with a well-known arms dealer Quark was on the outs with several of his Starfleet regulars and because he was so preoccupied with maintaining all the balls he was juggling, was not as present in his establishment as he usually was.

 

Julian initially had his back turned to Gaven when he had appeared at the mouth of the main entrance. By now, the regulars on the station knew him, but absolutely no one had seen the mysterious alien doctor as he currently was.

 

Although it would have been an overstatement to say the room stopped, Gaven's entrance drew enough attention that several conversations came to an abrupt halt only to be followed up by remarks of uncertainty and surprise.

 

“Is that Dr. Ore?” One patron hissed.

 

Though he didn't see where Leeta was, Julian heard her somewhere in the crowd hastily apologize after bumping headlong into a patron with her full drink tray, no doubt because she'd been suddenly distracted by something and had stopped watching where she was going.

 

Confused by what everyone was making a fuss over and suddenly concerned when he heard someone drop Gaven's name, Julian took the two beer bottles the bartender had prepped for him and idly glanced over his shoulder as he took a quick swig.

 

What he saw caused Julian to instantly swallow wrong as he sprayed half a mouthful of beer in front of himself nearly dropping the other bottle to the floor. Coughing a few times, Julian waited a moment wiping his face with his sleeve and turned back around.

 

It was indeed Gaven people were whispering about. Even the band seemed to miss a few of their marks.

 

Gaven stood in the main entryway.

 

His face, not surprisingly, had an even, watchful, and placid expression as if he had no understanding of the magnitude of the impression he was making. Dressed in what Julian could only really compute as a nearly skintight long sleeved, high necked and nearly floor length emerald green gown. The fabric looked slightly stiff yet also soft and showed no sign of wrinkling. It was undoubtedly Garak's flawless work, but what was most striking more than his modest, yet utterly attention-grabbing outfit was his face. Gaven looked damn near like something out of a fantasy.

 

Even with them muted, Gaven's eyes were even more green than usual and so large that it made him look like a fairy king out of a Shakespearean play. Julian could see a slight translucent shimmer upon his cheeks and lips, and he was pale but not sickly looking by any means. He was so strikingly beautiful it was almost difficult to look at him and Julian, having turned bright red, indeed had to look away and recede further back into the crowd until he'd recovered enough to manage capable speech and rational thought once more.

 

Gaven seemed to keep his cool, perfectly aware he was shocking people even if he didn't fully appreciate why. Now he was somewhat stuck where he was as there weren't many obvious paths leading into and through the space.

 

As always, any time Quark felt his profits coming to a grinding halt he instantly appeared out of the back, took one swift assessment of the room and rolled his eyes as he marched right up to Gaven standing in front of him to address the crowd.

 

“Hey! What's wrong with you people? Haven't any of you ever seen a pretty face before? Mind your manners and, as for the rest of you...Get back to work! This is a bar, not a floor show. Next person that gawks is fired. As for you,” Quark turned around to eye Gaven. “You look very nice. Now come on."

 

The last part was said quietly and politely as Quark hooked Gaven by the arm and ushered him quickly to the edge of the bar before he swiftly disappeared behind the counter.

 

“Boy do you know how to class up a place.” Quark muttered as he manically began to clean beer mugs, glancing up at Gaven now and again only to speed his task up a little more every time he looked.

 

“Too much?” Gaven asked with genuine innocence.

 

“Well...That depends. Where you trying to cause every person in the room to question their sexuality and preference in species or is it just your birthday?” Quark muttered evenly. “You’re lucky Garak isn't here to see the full effect of one of his masterpieces. His head might have actually exploded over the triumph.”

 

Gaven covered his face partially smiling into his hand. “I guess I did overdo it a bit.”

 

“No, no. It's just enough. Trust me. Have a drink. On the house.” Quark reassured him before pouring a cocktail into a martini glass and passing it to him before he simply muttered something under his breath, turned to the side to put away the mugs, muttered something else and then promptly turned around and disappeared again into the back of the house.

 

Gaven scoffed at himself with good humor and took a sip of the cocktail. It was a dark pink concoction. Sweet and bold. Gaven reminded himself to ask Quark what it was called later.

 

Glancing subtly around the room, Gaven was scanning for Julian whom he thought he had glimpsed when he first arrived before Quark had ushered him seamlessly to the bar. Gaven did intend to meet up with Julian and Miles, but he wasn't in a rush to run off to a secluded corner just yet. He realized when he had got up the nerve to walk through the promenade that evening, it was the first time he had ventured anywhere fully as himself. Or rather, perhaps as the version of himself that had risen out of the husk of a man he had been since leaving his homeworld.

 

Finishing his drink Gaven carefully stood. The leg brace he was wearing looked seamless under his clothes and allowed him some reinforcement for his bad leg, but Gaven was still unused to walking with it and he knew he had to avoid fatigue and a lot of sudden movement. The restriction only made him seem more elegant and unhurried as he began to step through the crowd to explore and keep an eye out for Julian or Miles.

 

Once the initial impact had worn off Quark’s went back to its bustling activity of drinking, gambling, and gastronomies. There had been an increase in aliens in Quarks and less Starfleet personnel recently, so the main floor was more active than usual. The darts boards were up on the second floor in a more enclosed nook. Gaven figured he'd likely find his party there but as he expertly picked his way through the room, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Gaven occasionally scanned the room for lingering eyes but most people only glanced at him or were simply admiring his general appearance.

 

Sure enough, though, Gaven was being watched and tailed with quite a lot of interest by not one but a few people.

 

“What are you doing?” Leeta asked when she caught Quark looking through one of his hidey-holes that allowed him to keep an eye on the bar without having to be on the floor.

 

“None of your business, sugar lips. Why aren't you out there earning me my latinum?” Quark muttered pulling away to cross his arms and glare at his soon to be sister-in-law.

 

“Hmph. I'm on break.” Leeta declared, reminding him that he'd set her on break personally. Leeta was about ready to spin around and huff away when Quark stopped her.

 

“Just hold on a second. You’re a woman, let me ask you something. Do you think Doctor Ore’s got any talents besides doctoring?” Quark asked uncharacteristically.

 

“How should I know? Doctor Ore and I aren't acquainted. Why?” Leeta asked.

 

“He certainly cleans up in an interesting way. I was just wondering if he might be interested in a second job. Look at him maneuver through that crowd. What a thing of grace and beauty. By the way. You owe me three slivers of latinum out of your pay. That guy you dumped drinks on earlier thinks he's going to stick me with his dry-cleaning bill.” Quark muttered indignantly as he tugged at his Ferengi styled waistcoat.

 

Leeta simply rolled her eyes and walked away. One of these days soon she was going to tell Quark exactly what she really thought of him, but she didn't dare do it until she and Rom were officially wed and Leeta could focus on being in love instead of kowtowing to Quark’s whims as his best Dabo girl.

 

One of the other people watching Gaven's every move in Quark’s that night was Odo. It wasn't uncommon for Odo to masquerade as inanimate objects or piece of architecture in order to study the life forms around him and to keep tabs on the goings on of the station. It was one of the ways he’d developed his reputation as a sly constable who always seemed to know more about what was going on than anyone else did sooner or later. Since Gaven had first approached him months ago in his office and related his personal feelings about Odo and his people, Odo had tried to keep close tabs on him whenever he came across him and, though he often eavesdropped on Gaven’s conversations in and around the public areas of the promenade, he almost always tried to stay within the lines of general propriety and respect Gaven’s privacy. With that being said, he occasionally went as far as to see that the doctor was looked out for by discreetly tailing him home or following up on information that he overheard elsewhere on the station about him.

 

Part of his initial interest in Gaven had been centered around Odo’s classic distrust of convenient strangers appearing on the station just when things seemed most dire. But as he’d gotten to know the man Odo had grown increasingly fascinated by his manners and motivations. In a way, they were moved by similar things. A commitment to duty and to their individual origins, their mutual interest and curiosity for the diverse people around them, and a defiant hunger to simply live by their own standards. To be sure, Gaven was one of the more emotionally and psychologically intricate people he’d ever observed and, perhaps in part because Gaven had done a great many things in support of Odo, he felt a kind of mutual and private investment in his happiness and wellbeing.

 

Due to the somewhat covert observations of Gaven over a long period of time Odo had slowly watched various changes come over the man. By now, thanks in part to his sources and his own powers of deduction, Odo knew about Gaven’s increasingly personal dynamics with both Doctor Bashir and the Vulcan Ambassador Jyrrus Cheval. He also saw that Gaven was moving away from many of the emotional things that had originally weighed heavily enough upon him to prevent him from rebuilding his life. But this evening marked a particularly curious turn of events that had indeed piqued Odo’s personal interest. It had been utterly intriguing to see people react so strongly to Gaven’s powerful entrance. Odo recognized Gaven’s metamorphosis for what it was. An expression of the man’s real self and all the things that went into being who and what he was. The sight of him had been deeply satisfying to see for Odo but had been a clear shock to others with more interesting stakes present in the room.

 

Odo had observed, for example, the rather comical reaction of Doctor Julian Bashir who after nearly spewing his drink all over himself upon seeing Gaven was now in the process of simultaneously trying to hide from him and follow his movements through the main floor of Quark’s. Odo recognized the mixture of anxiety and poorly covered arousal on Julian’s face.

 

So, Odo thought, that was how it was between them. Odo couldn’t say he was surprised that Julian and Gaven were engaging in an amorous and possibly romantic relationship. Had Odo not recently survived his own acute foray into love, sex, and romance he may not have so easily recognized or understood what was playing out between the men, albeit quietly and still perhaps only theoretically.

 

Odo made a mental note to invite Gaven over soon and have a chat. He was curious to know how aware Gaven was of his strong effect on people as well as how aware he was of the effect he had on Julian specifically.

 

Gaven eventually made his way to where he thought his friends were when he spotted Miles with young Kirayoshi bundled up in his arms. It was getting late and the baby really didn’t belong in Quark’s that time of night. But then again, Gaven wasn’t Kirayoshi’s parents so he simply smiled thinly and gave a wave.

 

“Hello.” Miles said nodding gently in Gaven’s direction so that he could refrain from speaking for as long as possible. “Sorry, but Yoshi just went to sleep. You didn’t happen to see Julian down there, did you? He’s been gone for bloody ever.”

 

“Only briefly. I'm sure he just got lost in the crowd. Everything alright?” Gaven asked nodding to Yoshi.

 

“For the moment. It's been right impossible the last few days with the wife away.” Miles muttered. “The other one is with Keiko.”

 

“What's the trouble?” Gaven inquired.

 

“He cries almost constantly if I'm not right there.” Miles explained. “I finally just committed to bringing him everywhere with me. “

 

“I can't imagine that's very ideal.” Gaven observed sympathetically. He could tell Miles was exhausted from the constant effort. “Hm. May I try?”

 

For a second Miles looked fearful that handing him over would cause Yoshi to stir and start crying again. But the truth was his shoulder ached beyond belief by now.

 

“Well, alright. But if he fusses drinks are on you next time.” Miles muttered.

 

“Agreed. And if he doesn't, then I get to babysit until Keiko comes back.” Gaven insisted.

 

“Deal.” Miles agreed, before he approached and let Gaven transfer Yoshi into his arms.

 

Gaven adjusted him a little which encouraged a yawn, but to Miles absolute astonishment, Yoshi didn't even wake up. He simply went on sleeping in Gaven's arms.

 

Miles stepped away and scratched behind his ear. “I don't understand it, but I'll take it. Are you sure babysitting isn't going to interfere with your work schedule?” Miles asked eagerly.

 

“Keiko is due back in two days. I think I can spare the time. Cheval wrote me today telling me when they were planning to return.” Gaven explained, a look of utter tranquility was plastered across his face.

 

Miles thought he looked like some dark angel just then but didn't remark on the thought. The idea of getting some reliable relief almost brought him to tears.

 

“You should stop into the infirmary tomorrow and let Julian give you something for your aches and pains.” Gaven remarked.

 

“That obvious, huh? I'll do that to be sure.” Miles agreed. “Here, Here. Why don't you sit down? Rude of me to make you stand with Kirayoshi all this time.”

 

Miles pulled out a chair for Gaven and then proceeded to glance over the balcony to see where Julian was. Miles didn't know Gaven very well and Julian had been the one to invite Gaven to come meet him. Knowing what he knew it was hard to not feel like a third wheel.

 

“Spot him yet?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Yeah. Looks like Leeta's got him pinned down for the moment. Well, it may be another minute or two before he escapes. How about a game of darts? Just you and I?”

 

Gaven smiled.

 

Miles was a nice even fellow. His understated manner, and everlasting effort to be outwardly non-judgmental were endearing. Against Julian’s often grandiose and vibrant personality Gaven saw that the men were mirror opposites which he imagined contributed to the two being the best of friends. Gaven appreciated the man and was happy to engage him.

 

“Let’s do it. One round.” Gaven said.

 

“Lovely. You’re on.” Miles agreed.

 

~@~

 

Julian had indeed been avoiding Gaven while on the main floor mostly because he was struggling to get a grip on himself. He simply couldn’t fully grasp what he was seeing. The intensity of the man’s presence...It wasn’t just about Gaven’s surprising appearance. If it had been something as superficial as all that, Julian might have been duly impressed, but it would have by no means unhinged him as it was presently doing. The question of why, was what Julian was stalling for time to understand as his mind worked at razor speed to analyze his reactions before he had to face Gaven one on one.

 

What he concluded was that Julian was actually seeing Gaven for the first time and what he was seeing was a far cry from the man they had all met months ago. The memory of Gaven once mentioning how Lopel Ner had often bowed out of important speaking engagements and forced Gaven to speak in his place, suddenly made absolute sense even if Julian couldn’t remember the exact conversation or if the conversation had really happened at all. He could understand now how captivating it would have been to see Gaven stand in the center of a crowd and deliver an undoubtedly well-conceived and well-planned speech or argument looking like the proper Oum that he was. He could see in Gaven how capable of command he was, an aspect that Gaven himself had always observed staunch forbearance about, and then Julian’s mind drifted off to more private thoughts about Gaven’s abilities that had him trying to tamp down a disorienting blow of desire that grabbed him right through his solar plexus and to the base of his spine. Dizzy and feeling impossibly oppressed by the crowd around him Julian had struggled his way to the edge of the room and into a dark mostly abandoned spot along the far wall where he could hopefully hide and catch his breath.

 

Julian hid for a good long while, nearly twenty minutes from the time Gaven had arrived. No doubt by now he’d found Miles, and both were likely wondering where Julian had gone. Eventually though he knew he needed to get back to them. He doubted Gaven had seen him in the crowd but if he had it was possible Julian was making a bad impression. Moving carefully out of the shadows he was about to make his way to one of the stairs when Leeta of all people tapped him on the shoulder.

 

“Well hi, Julian. Are you OK? You look strange somehow.” Leeta inquired as she slung her empty tray under one arm and popped her hip.

 

“Nonsense, I’m fine. Thanks for your concern. I’m sorry Leeta I can’t really talk right now. I’ve got to get back to Miles and…” Julian was promptly cut off.

 

“Oh, you can spare a second. I’ve been meaning to give you something.” Leeta chirped.

 

“Leeta unless you can produce my teddy bear which you have YET to give back to me, then I can’t…” Julian was cut off again. This time by an envelope being fluttered in his face. “Rom and I are having an engagement party in a few weeks and, I mean I know things didn’t work out between us, but...you’re still my friend and it would mean the world to me if you’d be there. Pleeease, Julian? If more of my friends don’t come Quark’s likely to junk up the event with his acquaintances and I want this to be about Rom and I.”

 

Leeta pleaded throwing in an exaggerated pout for good measure that Julian regretted was finding endearing.

 

“Fine. Of course. I’ll be there. Now really I need to…” Julian braced himself as he was cut off one final time by an overjoyed squeal from Leeta as she pounced upon him excitedly pulling him into an exuberant hug that he couldn’t have squirmed out of if his life had depended on it.

 

“Thanks, Julian! You really are the best.” Leeta proclaimed giving him a theatrical kiss on both cheeks before she promptly released him and fluttered away so that Quark wouldn’t yell at her for slacking on her work responsibilities.

 

When she was gone Julian audibly groaned and wiped vigorously at his face before he snagged a few beers from another waitress and bounded up the stairs determined to return to the relative safety of the darts area and his closer friends before anything else happened to him.

 

When he finally returned, he found the unlikely sight of Miles and Gaven hovering close to the board as Miles raptly stood explaining the finer points of the game of Darts to Gaven. Now they were talking specifically about technique and it looked as if they’d already played through a quick experimental round. Most notable though was that Miles was no longer holding Kirayoshi. Instead, Gaven had the infant resting in the crook of his neck completely relaxed and silent as Gaven gently swayed with him unconsciously and rubbed his back. It was a completely unexpected scene, and it took a full minute before either Miles or Gaven noticed Julian had arrived.

 

“Julian! Welcome back.” Miles said in a somewhat muted tone that indicated he’d been having a grand old time playing instructor, but he hadn’t forgotten that Kirayoshi was with them. “What happened to you?”

 

“Leeta happened.” Julian half lied, implying that the waitress and Dabo Girl had been the sole reason he had been so late on his return.

 

“For nearly thirty minutes? That’s longer than all her breaks combined. I hope Quark didn’t catch up to her for it. Just what was so important anyway?” Miles inquired.

 

“She and Rom are apparently putting on an engagement party and she wanted to invite me to the festivities.” Julian muttered as he set down the new bottles. “Drinks.”

 

“Engagement party?” Gaven asked, unfamiliar with the concept.

 

“It’s a party that is usually put on prior to a couple being married. The practice varies from culture to culture and species to species.” Julian explained.

 

“Well considering Rom’s a Ferengi and Leeta’s Bajoran it could be anything from an elegant black tie affair to…” Miles began.

 

“A bloody circus.” Julian said, finishing his thought for him.

 

“Here. Why don’t you give him back to me for a while.” Miles said softly, gesturing to Gaven so he could free him up.

 

“Alright, my Toro’ki. Back to father.” Gaven nodded and carefully switched Kirayoshi back into his father’s arms.

 

Despite all the stress, Miles really did enjoy holding his son especially when he was calm and peaceful like now.

 

“Toro’ki?” Julian inquired, briefly changing the subject.

 

“Yes. It’s an Oum title. Roughly translated it means ‘Little King’. A term of endearment for very young children. You see in Oum culture very young children tend to be the most demanding and the caretakers take devout care of them until they’re old enough to either enter their households or be sent to the foundling houses. We Oum are delighted by life at all its magnificent phases. Your son, Sir, I think will grow up to be a strong sort and truly kind.” Gaven predicted.

 

“I certainly hope so.” Miles muttered. “Well, I think I should get this little one home while the getting is good. Gaven? I’ll send over my work schedule when I get back. You’re a real lifesaver. Sorry to peter out on you Julian, but…”

 

Miles shrugged apologetically.

 

“Yes of course, Chief. A father’s work is never done. I’ll see you later.” As Miles moved along to pick up his baby bag which he’d set off in the corner, he passed close to Julian and in a low tone muttered, “Get a grip and talk to him.

 

“Right. Well, goodnight everyone. Gaven? I’ll see you tomorrow.” Miles finished his goodbyes and headed out.

 

This left Gaven and Julian alone.

 

Gaven, a vision in green, his large dark accented eyes and curly black hair in the soft light of the dart room made him look entirely exotic and mysterious. Julian was wearing his favorite royal blue sweater and with his boyish features and fresh look the two looked like they were almost facing off on opposite sides of the space. Gaven a dark forest elf and Julian a bright eyes page royal.

 

“Well...I’m glad you came out after all. You look...Huh, wonderful.” Julian complimented, trying to drum up some small talk to break the growing intensity in the room.

 

“Thank you. I thought it was time to come out of my shell a bit. Mr. Garak was nice enough to do up some clothes for me that are more in alignment with my culture. But I must admit, he did take some liberties with the palate. Tell me, have I really looked like an unapproachable unrefined mess all this time?” Gaven asked with an edge of self-deprecating humor.

 

“Well considering you came here an utterly miserable refugee with almost nothing to your name, but the uniforms Starfleet borrowed you. I must admit this new presentation of yours is a bit of a shock to most of us.” Julian admitted.

 

When he noticed Gaven’s mouth drop ever so slightly into a frown, Julian quickly tried to recover the observation. “You look beautiful, Gaven. You look like...Yourself. And it’s wonderful. I hope Garak made you more options. I’d hate to see you go backwards now.”

 

Gaven grunted but ultimately accepted the encouragement. “Thank you.”

 

The two went silent again both lost in their own internal dialogues. Eventually though Gaven picked their conversation back up. “Did you still want to play? It’s not really my kind of game but…”

 

“No actually. Now that you mention it, I feel a bit, restless. What do you say about getting away from the noise and crowds? If your game I might have the perfect place.” Julian offered.

 

Gaven sighed in relief. All the attention he’d garnered was starting to weigh on his nerves and he was starting to tense up from the strain of everyone becoming acutely aware of him at once.

 

“Please.” Gaven agreed.

 

Notes:

[1] The scene where Miles brings Kirayoshi to Quark’s and precedes to play dart with Julian while holding him is from “Business As Usual” (DS9:S5:E18), it was re-worked to compensate for previous plot changes.

Chapter 35: A Table For Two

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Five: A Table For Two

 

Twenty minutes later Julian escorted Gaven into a Holosuite with one of his favorite private programs cued up.

 

“Welcome to Vic’s Las Vegas Lounge.” Julian announced once they’d both entered the space fully so that the exit suddenly disappeared creating a flawless illusion.

 

Gaven looked around.

 

Vic’s was an intimate space. To one wall was a small stage just big enough for a basic band and one performer to comfortably entertain upon. In front of the stage was a dancing floor rimmed with small two-person circular tables with clean white linen tablecloths over them and little tea lamps in their centers. The space was rather well lit without being stark. Royal blue curtains hung along the walls and were an accent color along the rim of the oblong bar. The walls and stage were a tanned yellow. The ambiance of the entire space was warm and calming and though Gaven generally didn’t approve of holograms, he had to admit he liked this space.

 

“My friend Felix designed the program. His work is impeccable. This program is meant to simulate an early twentieth century lounge set in a particular city on Earth. It’s one of my favorite places to drum up when I want a little peace.” Julian explained as he walked with Gaven around the space.

 

“I must admit, it is charming.” Gaven complimented.

 

“Come on. Let’s sit down awhile.” Now that the initial shock had worn off Julian felt a deeply comforting sense of safety and fluttering attraction seep into him. It made him glad he’d thought to bring Gaven to Vic’s.

 

Gaven obliged him and, as was common when they were alone together and comfortable the communication between them began to flow more easily and naturally and after a while both men slipped into an intimate and lively pattern of conversation.

 

Leaning in with his elbows on the table Gaven smiled into his hand as he listened to Julian talk adamantly about some of the places he’d lived and recount some of the more humorous moments he’d experienced at the Academy. Having not been to other worlds beyond his time on Vulcan and Gulba IV, Gaven relished hearing about so many places and when it came to storytelling Julian was particularly good at keeping his audience engaged.

 

As the night wore on though their conversation sobered and ventured into more personal topics. Julian had taken the initiative to order them more drinks but seeing as he’d had enough liquor earlier in the night and the stuff was pointless with Gaven, Julian ordered them a lovely tea setting of a rich hot chocolate with just a hint of chile powder.

 

“Can I ask you something? I know Lopel Ner was your bondmate and you were together quite a long time. Was there ever anyone else? I mean to say, did you ever wonder or feel tempted?” Julian asked gently.

 

Gaven knitted his fingers around his warm cup as he thought about the question.

 

“It’s different for my people than it is for many other humanoids out there, I think. When I was on Oum I rarely had long term contact with members of other households. Other bondservants in public forums occasionally had cause to meet socially and privately but as living extensions of the masters of our households, most of us remained isolated. There were a few exceptions to this. For example, Gulevere did enjoy a wide circle of influence and once he began my formal education and began to regularly take me with him to the capitol to mingle among other representative members of the Republica, I became well acquainted with a few of the bond servants of some of his closest friends. Obviously, I became as well known as Gulevere was and once I was introduced into higher Oum society, Gulevere began to receive solicitations for my genetics.” An almost prideful look came over Gaven’s features but it was edged with regret as well.

 

“Gulevere didn’t have many vices, but he was an acute observer of Oum nature, and I think he enjoyed watching the elite among his circles restrain their envy and interest in me. I think there was a proud kind of vanity in it for him since I was genetically part of his household. Gulevere liked when he was in the capitol and free of his business, to mingle socially with certain Households. His favorite was the Vos household. While he was there, I would often spend time with the other bonded servants of the house. Jessup was very affluent and prided herself as a breeding hobbyist and cultural Matchmaker. Never have I seen someone who knew as many households as she did and who understood the social intrigues of the Republica so well. As a result, she was very wealthy and had numerous bondservants. Nearly a dozen. All carriers. Her favorite of the lot was Chezra. We spent...A great deal of time together. Gulevere’s social business could sometimes occupy him for weeks at a time and in the Vos household there was little need to be anything else but completely idle. Chezra was close to my age. She was lively, bright, and brazen. Quite unusual in a bondservant, but then again Jessup was very liberal and open handed with her proteges. I liked her very much and at one point I thought…I often thought Jessup and Gulevere threw us together on purpose in preparation for some distant intent they had planned. Had we been allowed to breed; I think we would have produced dynamic offspring.” Gaven smiled self-indulgently, clear nostalgic pleasure coming into his features.

 

“So? What happened?” Julian was mesmerized by this story as it had an utterly different tone than any Gaven had yet related.

 

“Whatever their intended plans, they never came to fruition. Eventually, Gulevere died and my bond was passed in full to Lopel. Lopel and I had differing feelings about breeding solicitations. Jessup did send several proposals all of which Lopel vehemently rejected and, of course, when he took me on as a bonded mate the issue of breeding rights become a moot point.” Gaven mused.

 

“So, what you're saying is that you would have been open to breeding solicitations but Lopel wasn’t and he went out of his way to keep you to himself.” Even Julian could see what a shame that was from an Oum perspective.

 

Gaven tilted his head at Julian, interested in his seeming ability to understand his culture’s perspective. “Do you have an opinion on the subject?”

 

Julian hesitated but since Gaven seemed acutely interested he went on. “It just seems wrong that he went out of his way like that. Knowing what I know about your culture and the fact that your genetics were so sought after...From the Oum perspective, I’m sure it seemed like a terrible waste. You could have influenced hundreds by sharing your genetics to a wide pool. It just seems like an important aspect of how the Oum maintain their genetic lines and keep their species strong. It’s not an unusual concept. Lots of species operate like that. It just seems...Selfish. Especially considering you clearly would have been quite happy to contribute to your people like that. I think...I feel, however he may have deeply loved you, he used his power over you to his personal advantage.”

 

Julian knew it was a risky opinion to have but Gaven had asked for his perspective on the subject.

 

Gaven seemed to accept this perspective and simply nodded his head. “I loved Lopel, but he was by no means a perfect person. Though he played at the dream of equality between us, we were not equal, and nothing was ever going to change that. As subversive as his ideas often were, he was still in many respects a typical member of the Republica and a beneficiary of the dominant social order.”

 

Julian sighed, Gaven was always fair about things.

 

He was always willing to acknowledge the most probable truth of any situation. Julian knew that if he had wanted to breach the subject of his own looming questions about what they were to each other or what they could be, Gaven would indeed be willing to at least hear him out. But a deep-rooted fear kept him from initiating the conversation he so desperately wanted to have with Gaven.

 

“My turn.” Gaven said suddenly, resettling himself in his chair. “What’s the story between you and Leeta?”

 

“Huh...She was a former romantic partner of mine. We were together for about a year and a half before she asked to end things with me.” Julian admitted as casually as possible.

 

“Was it more serious for you than it was for her?” Gaven inquired, for him the idea of people having numerous love interests that they carried on with for varying lengths of time sometimes bonding themselves to and sometimes not was nearly foreign to him, yet it seemed the prevalent practice among most of the humanoids he’d encountered.

 

“Honestly? I thought we were doing fine. I thought she was happy. But, clearly, I was mistaken. I know Leeta seems like just a pretty face but she’s so much more than that. Any Bajoran who was born during the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor didn’t survive that experience without a Hell of alot of strength and perseverance. Sometimes I thought it was a waste for her to limit herself by working for Quark. I always thought she was capable of so much more. I did believe I was in love with her but seeing as it’s not been a year and she’s already engaged to someone else I suppose our attraction simply wasn’t meant to go anywhere.” Julian explained.

 

Gaven could tell it bothered Julian that Leeta had so easily ended their affair and moved on to someone else. It was an insightful vulnerability of Julian’s that Gaven reminded himself to be wary of.

 

Gaven felt a distant but aggressive argument begin at the back of his conscience. There could be no mistaking that Gaven and Julian were becoming deeply invested in each other. Gaven supposed for the first time that he may have even mis-stepped in some of his behavior towards Julian by perhaps indulging too much in his presence. When he stepped outside his own perspective and tried to see things from a different side, he saw that he had perhaps inadvertently initiated something deeper between them than what he was prepared to pursue.

 

Or was he?

 

The argument grew a little louder in Gaven’s mind. While many of the courtship customs of these space dwelling humanoids differed vastly from Gaven’s own cultural experiences and practices, he did share with them the capacity to love and to gravitate towards companionship. Of anyone on the station, he and Julian had found themselves thrown together time and again. They’d saved each other's lives on more than one occasion, worked side by side, comforted and supported each other...The subtle sentiments between them weren’t lost on Gaven and he’d let them go on even though he knew better. If he wanted to share his higher esteem for Julian now there was nothing stopping him. Except for one thing.

 

I’m not totally free. He reminded himself. If I engage him now, it’ll be just like it’s always been. I must finish this business with Starfleet and settle things with Cheval. It’s the only way.

 

While his reasoning was sound, Gaven wondered how fair it was of him to keep his wants and fears from Julian. If Julian felt anything for him as well, surely it was wrong to not tell him why he was afraid to invite him in.

 

As Julian talked, he watched a distant expression come into Gaven’s features and his mouth turn down ever so slightly. By now Julian recognized many of his subtle expressions and a trickle of worry dripped down to pool in his chest. Reaching out Julian wiggled him by the wrist gently hoping to bring him back into himself.

 

“Gaven, come back to me. Is something wro-” Julian began to ask until he felt Gaven gently turn his wrist open to curl his fingers around Julian’s wrist equally. It was an intentionally intimate gesture and at the same time Gaven did it his eyes focus to peer at him with what Julian could not mistake as a kind of sad longing.

 

“Julian, I’ve wanted to tell you something for some time, but…” Before Gaven could finish his thought, something beeped and Dax’s voice came through the com.

 

“Dax to Doctor Ore and Doctor Bashir. Sorry to interrupt you guys on your off time, but I think you’re going to want to see this. I’ll meet you in the lab. Dax out.” The com beeped once more ending the communication.

 

The professional urgency in Dax’s voice and choice of words was enough to send both Gaven and Julian into high alert. It seemed their personal affairs were going to have to wait.

 

Realizing this was an important moment between them Julian let go and reluctantly pulled his arm out of Gaven’s grasp.

 

“We have to go.” Julian’s voice had taken on a quiet huskiness that he didn’t even try to conceal.

 

“Yes.” Gaven’s tone was deeply resigned.

 

Already doubt was setting in about his near disaster of a confession. Gaven knew there was going to be Hell to pay when Julian finally decided to confront him about their delayed conversation.

 

~@~

 

Fifteen minutes later, Julian and Gaven were reconvening in the med lab where Dax was waiting for them. Her manner was all professionalism even if she might have wanted to remark on their interesting appearance together both were dressed in jewel tones almost as if they'd coordinated it that way.

 

“Hey guys. Remember how we estimated a six-week window reaction time for the live trials? Take a look at this.” Dax went to the computer screen and pulled up the tracking data.

 

As they studied it from across the table, Julian squinted and came around to look closer so that he could be sure he wasn't mistaking himself.  “Unbelievable. It works.”

 

Julian turned to peer at Gaven. Who was staring at him with a look of steady knowing.

 

“Let me see the subject values.” Julian muttered walking to a different panel where he quickly began scrolling through it faster than the average human should have been able to read.

 

“Have you double checked these?” Julian asked in quiet wonder.

 

“Yes. I've checked them numerous times and so has Jeremiah. It's not an exaggeration.” Dax confirmed. “The inoculation isn't just reinforcing their cells; it's regenerating damaged ones. So far, it's not to any extreme degree. But it is noticeable. Remember how we noted that about a quarter of the test subjects had cancerous tumors present somewhere in the body? Well, the statistics have dropped by almost a half and all tested positive for some regeneration of tissue. I have to say I’ve never seen anything quite like this before. Guys were not just talking about the ability to shield subjects from the effects of poly radiation...I think what we’re broaching here is a new breakthrough in cellular regeneration. “ Dax explained, her measured awe was clear.

 

At that point both turned to look at Gaven who had yet to comment on any of what they’d found.

 

“Did you know about the potential of this?” Julian asked him.

 

Gaven shrugged. “It is how the cellular science works in my case. As I told you all in the beginning of this, in radiation resistant Oum like myself poly exposure enhances cellular development. While the inoculation we’re developing focuses on the cellular deflection of poly radiation it was conceivable that there could be additional disadvantages and benefits. I hoped the reality would be the latter and I’m happy to see that I’m possibly getting my wish.”

 

“Is it wrong that I’m more excited about the regeneration element of this than I am anything else?” Dax remarked.

 

“No. After all, healing people is far more rewarding for some than trying to hurt them is.” Gaven pointed out. There was a hint of poignancy in his tone. “Have you alerted the Captain about this?”

 

“Yes. Benjamin’s calling a progress meeting in an hour. We still have to follow protocol and see the experiment through but this…. This is still stunning. Can you two watch the lab for a while? I want to run home and freshen up before we all reconvene.” Dax requested.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Gaven and Julian said in unison.

 

“You look ravishing by the way.” Dax remarked, squeezing Gaven’s arm as she passed him. “I want to hear more about the outfit sometime.”

 

When Dax was gone, Julian leaned back into the wall so that he could watch Gaven.

 

“You planned for this outcome, didn't you?” Julian asserted.

 

“Yes.” Gaven replied evenly.

 

“Explain.” Julian challenged him.

 

Gaven considered for a moment how much of an explanation he was really required to give.

 

“When I was on Gulba IV, I tried to clarify what might happen if my tissues were used for other medical purposes outside of resisting and treating poly radiation exposure. At the time I thought I was dying and when I reflected on how my life might be measured by the tombs of galactic history, I decided that if I was to leave an impression, I wanted that impression to be centered around my dedication to preserving life and not harming it. It’s true that if all goes right the inoculation project should achieve what it was designed to do. But now we know that the science behind it is also capable of more. This is part of my legacy. Maybe the only one I may ever have outside of Oum. Do you understand now?” Gaven asked.

 

Julian nodded, accepting his explanation for what it was.

 

“That's what you meant when you said the trip to Gulba IV was about doing something solely for yourself. You'd already been developing the inoculation concept but centered it around it's potential to protect and repair a body.” Julian reiterated.

 

Gaven nodded slowly.

 

“The inoculation will still have to be tailored to each species and then be more strictly tested to ensure safety, but I'm confident Starfleet has enough now to take over the project. Once this preliminary testing is done, I plan to wash my hands of it.” Gaven confessed.

 

“I see. It bothers you that this may be used to hurt the changelings, but you figure If we invent the gun and you only invent the bullet the outcome of its use, should we decide to use it, will be on our heads instead of yours.” Julian observed.

 

“That was my general thought. Yes.” Gaven agreed.

 

“Why do it at all then?” Julian proposed.

 

“Mm. The changelings, at least these changelings, are aggressive and hostile. I'm not ignorant about what the Dominion has already done. From that perspective I'm comfortable helping others develop the means to protect themselves and their planetary autonomy. I, after all, know what it's like not to have any.” Gaven observed.

 

“These changelings?” Julian inquired.

 

“Yes. These changelings. Julian, my people in their history have not experienced the current and popular characterization of the changeling species. Though the Dominion is large and likes to imply that they represent the feelings of the entirety of their kind. We know there are clear and present exceptions. Odo for one and Kajel. Neither was found anywhere near known Dominion territory and they’re differing experience of interactions with other life forms keeps them here with all of you where they have chosen to oppose the dominant order of their kind. Though I do believe all changelings come from a common universal source tracing back to who knows when...I don’t believe that these changelings are the only possible pocket of changelings out there. These changelings feel they must control everything in their path. They cite ancient pains that have driven them to become what they presently are. It disturbs me to think this will be the only perspective that goes down in everyone else's histories as they contend with them. So yes, it does bother me, and I wish there were a better way.” Gaven admitted.

 

Gaven’s endless compassion really did amaze Julian sometimes as did his deep-rooted conviction. It occurred to Julian that while Gaven was almost always forthcoming if he was asked questions about what he thought and felt, it was rare that he gave away information on his own. Julian felt a sweep of longing flash through him. He wondered what it would be like to go away with Gaven somewhere away from all the distractions of their regular lives and take the time to really absorb each other. The memory of Gaven taking hold of his wrist in the Holosuite caused a subtle warm coiling in his solar plexus and he wondered now with nagging concern what Gaven had been planning to tell him.  Right now, was not the time to find out.

 

As much as Julian would have liked to continue intimately talking to Gaven, the doctors instead spent the rest of the hour before their meeting catching up on Dax and Jeremiah's reports. The task proved to be more than engrossing and despite their personal intrigues, as had become usual for the men they easily slipped into a mutually pensive state together. Both deeply enjoyed such times of work and everywhere they could simply exist together with the comfort of the other's steady presence settled snugly around them.

 

When it was time to go, Dax reappeared, and they all left together. All were tired but in good spirits.

 

“Hello everyone.” Benjamin said once everyone had settled into his conference room a short time later. “I’m going to try to keep this brief since I know some of you haven't been to bed yet. Let's start with our shield calibrations. Where are we?”

 

“Everything's almost ready to go. Dax and I have calibrated the shielding on both the Defiant and the Rio Grande. Although I can't imagine we'll come across a lot of need for it unless you plan to launch a mission to the Oumni system.” Miles remarked.

 

“Good and the stations shields?” Benjamin inquired.

 

“That's proving to be a bit trickier. So far, we've been able to set up shielding in larger spaces, but we haven't been able to cover all the smaller areas. It's not impossible, it's just going to take more time.” Dax explained.

 

“Keep at it then.” Benjamin encouraged.

 

“How about our inoculation experiment?” Benjamin had been keeping up with the reports and already had a good idea of the progress that had been made but he spoke now for the benefit of everyone at the table.

 

“The first few bits of data coming in are already very promising. We've already seen a positive response in the live trials and in some cases, we've even seen cases we're cells were not only protected but damaged cells were also being repaired.” Julian said.

 

“Repaired? What do you mean repaired?’ Kira asked with keen interest. “How?”

 

“The formula for the inoculation testing was crafted directly from my own poly resistant DNA.” Gaven supplied. “In my case, my immune system has been enhanced by my planets constant poly exposure. The result includes numerous advantages. Aging for example is much slower in Oum like me and the rate of healing and immune response is much higher and more aggressive. The formula allows a person with short exposure to likewise benefit as the inoculation shields the bloodstream and prevents absorption of the poly radiation through the skin. There is significant evidence that the inoculation could also be used to heighten a body’s natural ability to regenerate itself.” Gaven explain.

 

“Furthermore, when the formula is exposed to damaged cells it has the ability to mimic healthy ones and essentially can either shut down the cells reproduction abilities or enhance the speed of growth for new healthy cells to flood the area.” Dax said excited. “Bottom line based on the preliminary research is that the poly radiation shielding is really just a bonus. The real magic is in the regeneration aspects.”

 

Dax was clearly excited by this news.

 

“What this may also mean is that the inoculation is programmable. Meaning for now we can program it to shield and neutralize short term poly radiation exposure, but later we could program it to do any number of other things.” Julian explained.

 

“Although the Federation has a long way to go before, they can actually test the inoculation on a person, I have every confidence this is going to work.” Gaven assured them.

 

“As do I.” Julian agreed not because he had any definitive proof it would work, but because he had more than enough faith in Gaven’s knowledge of the science involved to back him on the sentiment.

 

“Very good. Keep me informed on your progress.” The final half hour of the meeting was devoted to Worf, Odo, and Kira going over additional security and operations measures most of which Gaven and Julian remained quiet through as they both occasionally stole glances at each other at opposite intervals.

 

When the Captain finally dismissed them, Julian pulled Gaven aside gently.

 

“Hey. I know we have to do another round in the lab and eventually sleep today, but what would you say about coming over to my place tonight or tomorrow for dinner.” Julian inquired.

 

Gaven paused in consideration looking like he might accept Julian's invitation, but at the last second Gaven sighed and shook his head to the negative.

 

“I can't tonight. I promised Chief O'brien I’d watch Kirayoshi while he completed his night shift. Plus, I have important business with Cheval when he returns tomorrow.” Gaven said, his own disappointment at the missed opportunity easily evident in his tone. “I'm sorry.”

 

Gaven met Julian's gaze directly when he apologized, and Julian swore that he saw a soft aching in the man's eyes that he didn't fully understand.

 

“I see, I see.” Julian nodded. “Maybe we can raincheck it then for a few days.”

 

Julian moved closer to Gaven to get out of the flow of traffic near Benjamin's office. As they came close into each other's spheres both inaudibly sighed over the potent relief of their nearness.

 

“As soon as I’m sure I can make the proper time for us, I will come over. You have my word.” Gaven muttered quietly in a low tone and his fingertips brushed the small of Julian's back.

 

It was in this subtle gesture that Julian realized Gaven was attempting to reassure him. As if he was afraid Julian might think he was trying to avoid him as he so often had in the past.

 

“Yes. I know. It's alright. We'll find the time soon.” He agreed showing he understood him.

 

Despite both of their private wishes, there was indeed much legitimate work to be done and both men knew for the moment their work together had to be their primary focus.

 

Sucking in a deep cleansing breath and letting it go, Julian glanced sidelong up at the other man. ”Well, Doctor? Shall we?”

 

Smiling slightly at his theatrics, Gaven nodded in agreement and let Julian move away so that he could follow down the corridor a pace or two behind him.

 

Unbeknownst to the Doctors, the tension of their conversation and the intimate nature of their body language hadn't gone completely unnoticed. While they'd been talking Odo, Benjamin, and Kira had been watching them from the vantage point of Benjamin's office door.

 

“What do you think that was all about?” Kira asked slyly leaning towards the other two.

 

“Mm. You've noticed it now too. They've been carrying on like this for quite some time now.” Odo revealed in his gravely introspective tone as he stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.

 

“Wonders never cease.” Benjamin muttered.

 

“Wait...Should we be concerned about this?” Kira asked still clearly stunned.

 

“Only if it doesn't work out.” Benjamin observed with a dispassionate shrug.

 

“Let's just error on the side of...Hoping for the best for now.” Odo proposed to everyone's quiet agreement.

 

Chapter 36: The Devil is a Blue-Eyed Brunette

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

[1]Chapter Thirty-Six: The Devil Is A Blue-Eyed Burnette

 

The next few days were a busy whirlwind of activity all over the station. But the vibe became doubly tense when things escalated out of control with the arms dealers Quark had gotten into bed with forcing Benjamin to ban all Starfleet personnel from setting foot in Quark’s business until the situation could be satisfactorily resolved.

 

Most of the Starfleet officers chose to take this down time in stride. Taking on extra shifts and meeting in their personal spaces rather than out in public.

 

True to his word when Gaven wasn’t taking shifts in the infirmary and working on the inoculation project he was away babysitting for the O’Brien’s or communicating with Cheval via transmission as he calmly awaited his return.

 

When it was time to meet Cheval at his transport, Gaven was there waiting for him and as both men came into view of each other a wash of relief flooded through them both as they embraced pounding once on each other’s backs, much to the surprise of some of the other passengers who were not used to seeing such an exuberant reaction from a Vulcan.

 

“You are distressed and uncertain.” The Vulcan mused with a concerned air, briefly touching his fingers to either side of Gaven’s chin and turning his face once from side to side as if to examine him.

 

“Yes. And you are worried and worn down.” Gaven parroted back at him. “Is it all my doing or has something happened?”

 

Cheval shook his head slowly. “Your mind calls out to me constantly as of late as if you are drowning and trying to grasp hold of something. Come. We will...get to the bottom of this. It will be all right.”

 

Ten minutes later, Cheval and Gaven were holed up in Cheval’s apartment.

 

 Gaven was sitting huddled at the table while Cheval stood at the kitchen counter unpacking his travel bag. “Here, this is for you. I acquired it while working along the marshes of the Kal river. It is supposed to be a Bajoran symbol of inner serenity and it only grows in specific regions.”

 

From his bag, Cheval produced a large clear square box. Inside was a perfectly preserved white water lily nearly eight inches in diameter.

 

Gaven took it and set it down before him so that he could admired its beauty. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

 

Cheval nodded. “I have one of my own as well. I could not resist.”

 

Cheval eventually finished what he was doing and stepped around the counter to sit beside his beloved friend. He could sense that Gaven was at odds with himself over something and the more he tried to reach out and touch it with his own mind the more he sensed Gaven resist revealing its nature not just to Cheval but to himself.

 

“Gaven, what are you so afraid to share with yourself? Let me grasp it for you so that you may face it and find your peace.” Cheval reached out then and placed the butt of his hand against Gaven’s brow opening between them a small psychic link that they normally avoided utilizing.

 

The intensity of what Gaven felt was unnerving to Cheval even though he’d only opened enough of a channel to catch a glimpse of the man’s inner workings. Cheval strained to absorb the strike and was rapidly caught up into it until Gaven finally spared them both and firmly pulled his palm away catching Cheval before he almost fell out of his chair acutely overwhelmed. Cheval recovered however and caught Gaven at the shoulders until he could steady himself. When he finally met Gaven’s gaze again his eyes were open very wide and glistening with pooling tears that had yet to break from their ocular prison.

 

“Cheval...I’m sorry. I never meant for it to come to this.” Gaven began to apologize.

 

“No. Doctor Bashir...Does not know how fortunate he is to have so completely captured your heart. Why are you keeping this from him? Why will you not allow yourself to embrace what you feel and so desperately want?” Cheval pressed, as he desperately tried to put a cap on his own tremulous feeling that were churning through his body so that he could focus on Gaven.

 

“The blade cuts both ways.” Gaven whispered referencing an ancient Oum saying about the duality of pleasure and suffering. “I have nothing to offer him, but what I feel. I have no home; I have no people; and the thing I know he won't be able to understand the most is why I just can’t live in his world with him.”

 

“What will you do then?” Cheval asked gently.

 

Gaven groaned. “The inoculation trial will end sometime before we leave for Vulcan. The Captain has already agreed to let me hand off the project at that point which means my present obligation to Starfleet such as it’s been defined will have been fulfilled and I won’t be under any further obligation to come immediately back to the station if I don’t want to. I have made arrangements with Mr. Worf on your behalf and with your permission he is willing to train with you in preparation for our return to Vulcan should the worst happen when we go back. I promised you I would help you through this upcoming ordeal and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Whatever my other feelings...Your wellbeing is my primary priority for the foreseeable future. Of anyone I’ve met off world, you are my best friend and my closest confidant. You know me better than anyone else possibly anywhere.”

 

Cheval tilted his head and the depth of Gaven’s regard for him and as he did so an echo of T’Yel’s most damning accusation pressed at the back of his awareness.

 

“I may indeed still be you’re Ashelik...Darling, beloved. But  I now begin to question if you are my true and rightful T’hy’la…” T’hy’la, the Vulcan word for friend, brother , soulmate, and lover.

 

T’Yel had implied that Gaven had usurped her in this role and that he was a truer representation of the title in Cheval’s heart. Friends they were. There was no reason to deny it. Gaven was also the most dedicated person in Cheval’s life besides T’Yel and his mother. He believed logically that Gaven saw him as an essential figure in his own life as well. But soulmates? The question caused Cheval to have to consider what a soulmate really was. What were the requirements? Like T’yel, Gaven was inadvertently linked to him. Had Gaven allowed it they may have had the benefit of the same encompassing psychic bond that he had long enjoyed with T’yel. By Vulcan standards it was very possible Gaven could be considered a soulmate because they shared this link. On the other hand, their bond had not come out of free choice for either of them. It had been an accident and one they were both trying to actively undo because they believed it was what the other one wanted.

 

It was true that Cheval had originally sought Gaven out again to break they’re psychic bond. He had come because he had wanted to clear a path for T’yel once more and remove any doubts that had the power to tear them apart. He had come to find Gaven with the best of intentions for all involved, but now Cheval questioned his own motivations. If Gaven had wanted to take him as a partner, would Cheval have accepted and sought to end his dynamic with T’yel instead? In the end the answer was moot. However complex Gaven’s feelings were involving Cheval, there was no denying that Gaven’s feelings for Doctor Bashir eclipsed them.

 

“I do know you.” Cheval agreed at length. “I know that your contemplating going to Vulcan and never coming back here.”

 

“Possibly. Do you disapprove?” Gaven asked seriously.

 

“No, Doctor. You are a free man. As such you are entitled to go where you will. It is obvious that your feelings for Doctor Bashir confuse and overwhelm you. For that reason, distance may be the best course. You could also, by contrast, choose to face what you feel and allow Doctor Bashir to have his say in the matter as well. You seem to believe he may harbor feelings for you. If that is true, then it is possible he is just as conflicted about them as you are.” Cheval reasoned supportively, even though the irony of his advice left an unhappy taste in his mouth.

 

Gaven sighed.

 

“It’s all going to come to a head eventually, my friend. Everything always does sooner or later. Right now, I just want to not have to think about it for a while. I’m glad your back and I’m grateful that you are here with me. Now come and sit awhile and tell me about Bajor and everything that happened.” Gaven invited him as he wrapped his arms around Cheval’s present almost like a child with his favorite toy.

 

 As always, Cheval’s eyes were soft and ever so slightly sad as he came around the table slowly and sat down. In these moments Cheval found it difficult to face Gaven because he felt he had to conceal so much of his true feelings for him as well as contend with the ever-constant fear he was somehow betraying T’Yel at every turn.

 

Yes, the Vulcan thought. The knife cuts both ways.

 

~@~

 

In another part of the station that day, Gaven and Cheval weren’t the only people finding themselves walking a delicate knife edge between right and wrong and what was necessity and what was overindulgence. Quark’s shady partnership with his cousin Gaila and the notorious humanoid arms dealer Hagath had finally escalated to the point where Odo was ready to throw the book at him, this time for good.

 

“None of these charges are going to stick. I haven’t broken any laws. I have a license to run Holosuite.” Quark insisted as he sat being detained and questioned in Odo’s office.

 

Naturally Odo had been investigating the situation since the moment Gaila and his associates had come to the station. While Quark was no stranger to skirting the law, Odo was amazed at how blatant and brazen his current scheme was. It was a sign that the Ferengi bar owner was beyond desperate to get out of his financial troubles with his debts and the Ferangi Commerce Authority who had recently stripped Quark of his ability to do business with other Ferengi.

 

“But you don’t have a license to sell weapons, do you?” Odo rebutted as he leaned into the side of his office chair like a coiled viper biding his time.

 

“I defy you to prove that I brought a single weapon onto this station.” Quark challenged reasonably. The truth was always the best course to take whenever possible.

 

“It’s a mere technicality.” Odo replied forcefully, the power of his voice dominating the room. We both know what you’re doing. I promise you you’re going to face the consequences.” Odo assured him.

 

Just as Quark’s mouth was about to drop open in further disarming protest, he and Odo were abruptly interrupted by Kira and the Captain himself. Their posture and serious expressions showed they were there on official business.

 

“Not today he isn’t.” Benjamin boomed in a tone that rivaled and surpass Odo’s own voice of authority. “Let him go.”

 

Odo simply stared at the Captain. Though Benjamin was speaking with superior authority it was clear he wasn’t happy about having to do so under the circumstances.

 

“Let him go?!” Odo asked incredulously, coming out of his chair to lean forward on his feet.

 

“Major! Tell the Constable what you told me.” Benjamin commanded in a tone that showed he shared Odo’s sentiment but that there was a legitimate impediment to pursuing the case.

 

“The Bajoran Government insists that Deep Space Nine not interfere with the lawful transactions of Hagath or his Associates.” Kira recited, starting strong but losing some measure of voice as she finished showing too that she thought the entire situation was just as undesirable as the rest of them. “Hagath supplied arms to the Resistance. Without him or people like him, we’d all be dead. The Cardassians would still be in power. We owe him. ”

 

“Captain!” Odo protested desperately, but to no avail.

 

“I don’t like it any more than you do.” Benjamin insisted with a scowl.

 

“Hmph. Better luck next time.” Quark said smugly, but before the sentence could even land in the air Benjamin had seized the arm of his chair and spun Quark to face him.

 

“You better hope there isn’t a next time, Mister.” Benjamin rapidly threatened, getting right down into Quark’s face and looking him dead in the eyes. “I have cut you a lot of slack in the past. I even looked away once or twice when I could have come down hard on you, but those days are over. Now we may not be able to get you for selling weapons but you so much as litter on the promenade and I will nail you to the wall!”

 

Pulling away in disgust, Benjamin handed Quark off to Kira, who took a similarly threatening stance right in Quark’s face from the other side, a look of sweet pleasure was evident on her face as she soaked in Quark’s stunned terror. “Something to look forward to.”

 

Kira then slowly turned Quark’s chair front again and walked out following Benjamin’s lead leaving a shell-shocked Quark in their wake.

 

A little later, after recovering a bit with a stiff drink Quark took up with Hagath and his cousin whom he was now doggedly at the beck and call of in Hagath’s quarters.

 

“I’ll never forget how many people told us we were making a mistake.” Gaila said in a lazy fashion as he poured a drink for Hagath and leaned over the back of the long sofa to pass it along. “Sell weapons to the Bajorans?”

 

Hagath was lounging like a pasha in its center with Quark dangling on the edge to Hagath’s right trying desperately to pretend he wasn’t utterly uncomfortable sitting so close to the snake of a man.

 

Hagath chuckled and took the glass.

 

“What chance do they have? Invest in a winner. Sell to the Cardassians.” Hagath mused, remembering the old exchanges.

 

“But why did you sell weapons to the Bajorans? They couldn’t have had any money.” Even though he was afraid of Hagath, Quark was intrigued by the man’s cunning and did see the benefits of picking his brain.

 

“My dear Quark not every deal is about making money.” Hagath explained magnanimously. Sometimes you have to look at the big picture. And at times, gaining a friend is more important than making a profit.”

 

“I admit,” Gaila said in an amused tone as he made and then passed another drink to Quark. “It’s not the Ferengi way but it’s good business nonetheless.”

 

“Mm. I knew the Cardassian’s would eventually lose. And you know why?” Hagath asked, in a reminiscent fashion.

 

“Because they were overly confident.” Quark offered like a shy schoolboy facing his sly professor.

 

“Exactly!” Hagath agreed excitedly, pleased that Quark had grasped the answer. “They underestimated the Bajoran thirst for freedom. I didn’t. ”

 

Just then the chime on the door sounded pulling all three of them back into a business-like mindset.

 

“Want me to handle this?” Gaila offered flatly.

 

“No.” Hagath chirped, it was clear by his tone the aging arms dealer was mildly disappointed to have been pulled out of his reverie.

 

It was Hagath’s way to treat his associates whenever possible like a father treated his children and at times the attitude was tiresome for the man. Especially when it involved matters that require a heavier hand. Hagath really preferred to be pleased and generous with his people. It was one of the perks of being as sly and successful as he’d been in his career. But in the end, he was also a ruthless psychopath who had no qualms about straight out killing anyone who disappointed him regardless of how personal a relationship he had with them.

 

When the door opened two men entered. The first was a petite humanoid man named Farrak. He was middle aged with dark brown hair that was prematurely graying at the temples no doubt in response the impossible pressures of his job under the watchful eye and thumb of Hagath.

 

Following him a significant pace behind was a taller man, a human. This one had short feathered brown hair and small though brightly blue eyes and a delicate brow that was just beginning to show his age with subtle crow’s feet that only emphasized his striking gaze. His face was square and angular with a strong chin and a thin feminine mouth. He was dressed in a black trench coat and matching kit gloves.

 

Where Farrak looked frazzled, small, and weak, this other figure stood straight and proud and promptly side stepped to stand beside the entryway to silently wait as Farrak took his audience.

 

“Ah, Farrak. How nice of you to join us.” Hagath put down his glass and was once more all enthusiastic geniality.

 

Farrak instantly schooled his expression into a relaxed and soft smile as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

 

“What was so important that you had to see me in person?” Farrak asked smoothly. “I was about to close that deal with the Verillians.”

 

“Oh really?” Hagath said sharply. “I heard they had no longer any need for our services.”

 

Farrak laughed nervously, obviously caught at an instant disadvantage because Hagath had information that he did not. “Since when?”

 

“Since they signed an agreement with the Metron Consortium! I also heard that you hadn’t even opened negotiations with the Verillians.” His words were viper fast and no less sharp and poisonous.

 

“That’s a lie.” Farrak said firmly, managing to fill his voice with a little more strength than he’d arrived with.

 

“And THAT instead of doing your job...You were off enjoying yourself on Risa!” Hagath seethed.

 

“I can explain.” Farrak insisted, weakening just a little.

 

“I don't want any explanations!” Hagath yelled explosively. “I put my faith in you, and you let me down. As from now, our relationship is terminated.”

 

“Hagath, can’t we just talk this over?” Farrak said flatly with no emotional inflection. He then chuckled, trying in vain to recover the situation. “I made a mistake.”

 

“An expensive mistake.” Hagath confirmed lightly. “Good-bye.”

 

Breathing hard as his eyes began to glisten with the weight of futility that was now bearing down on him, Farrak turned like a dead man walking to leave. As he approached the doors with his hands still clasped behind his back he stopped and glanced over at the other man who had accompanied him into the room and quietly addressed him.

 

“This is your doing, Conrad. You’re going to pay for this. I promise you.” He muttered, though there was little actual threat in his words. Farrak understood his days were now numbered, if he had any left to enjoy at all.

 

As if he thought to make one final appeal for his job and life, Farrak half turned just as the entry doors opened and looked back at the others desperately but he could think of nothing more to say.

 

Gaila simply raised his hand to him in a distant gesture of farewell as Hagath merely looked at the man with utter disinterest. His final slap in the face.

 

“Are you still there?” Hagath said smugly before Farrak finally turned around and left.

 

“Now that was a most unpleasant experience.” Hagath muttered instantly relaxing and sounding a chuckle that instantly changed the tone of the room once more to a more frivolous air.

 

“Quark allow me to take this moment to introduce you to one of my most beloved associates who was courteous enough to bring these unfortunate details to my attention. Conrad won’t you come properly in. Quark this is Conrad Wittle. You could say he’s something of a social secretary on retainer of course. He’s an absolute wizard at public relations and we are all incredibly lucky to be the beneficiaries of his services.” Hagath said brightly as he watched the younger man graciously approach.

 

“Hello, Mr. Quark. Gaila it's nice to see you again as well.” The man nodded and flashed an utterly disarming pearly white smile.

 

He then approached Hagath and, bending at the waist, spoke something into Hagath’s ear before laying the subtlest of a butterfly kiss upon his cheek bone. He then straightened.

 

Catching this display which may have seemed subtle, but was acutely blatant on Conrad’s part, Gaila’s lip flickered in distaste as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“You’re a good boy, Conrad. I shall leave the business of handling the Consortium in your capable hands. “I have no doubt we will see a sudden return of the Virillian’s interest in record time. You may go and take care of business. I will speak with you later.”

 

Stepping back now that he was being dismissed, Conrad made a point to eye both Gaila and Quark individually. His expression was ice cold and held a clear and present threat in it that both Ferengi recognized on instinct.

 

“Good evening everyone. Quark, I hope to meet you again.” At that he turned away and practically skipped up the steps and back out of the room.

 

“Yeah...Not to soon I hope.” Quark muttered trying to shake off the chill he suddenly felt.

 

“Conrad is a new addition to our happy family.” Gaila said strategically. “Hagath is right. He is very good at what he does.”

 

The real message Gaila was trying to convey wasn’t remotely lost on Quark.

 

Conrad Wittle was a master manipulator and an utter sociopath the likes that probably rivaled Hagath himself. That alone made him a deeply dangerous man and one Quark hoped never to have to directly contend with. He had no doubt that whatever had really gone on with Farrak, Conrad was responsible for it well beyond simply exposing the man’s failures. If Farrak was killed over them, which was almost assured at this point. then It would be Conrad who was responsible for bringing down the ax even if he wasn’t the official executioner. 

 

~@~

 

Even though the order for Starfleet personal to stay out of Quark’s had quietly come down early, it took a while for the Ferengi to catch on to the fact that he was being officially boycotted. The absence of pretty much any Starfleet affiliated people made for a dull and quiet day in Quark’s and as he stood behind the bar and cleaned some wine glasses, he reflected on just how many of his friends weren’t currently speaking to him. It was a sobering reality.

 

But then again, Quark wasn’t doing any of this to impress his friends. He was trying to preserve his quality of life and as things stood getting in bed with Hageth and his people was the only way Quark could see to save everything he’s spent his entire life gaining. He told himself none of it was going to last forever. As soon as he paid off his debts and lined his pocket with just a small nest egg to see him through any future hard time, the Ferengi planned to be done with dealing arms. He just hoped by then he still had some friends left to enjoy his future solidity with.

 

To further complicate matters, a little later his cousin Gaila stopped in to visit him. The news wasn’t good. It seemed Gaila was planning to retire assuming that he could find a worthy replacement to stand at Hagath’s side. Naturally, in light of his recent accomplishments, Gaila had it in mind for Quark to be the one to take his place. On the surface it was a truly golden opportunity that had the power to launch Quark into a realm that was quite beyond his wildest dreams. The idea was indeed more than tempting even for Quark whose conscience was well developed but not particularly strong.

 

But the real boom came when Gaila let it slip that Farrak’s ship had unfortunately exploded shortly after leaving the station. Killing him.

 

“Warp core breach! That Hagath - What a temper.” Gaila mused, confirming beyond a doubt that the explosion had been a planned retaliatory hit.

 

The offer by Gaila was also a warning about the dangers of stepping out of turn. Now that Quark was in with Hagath and his people it was quite possible that there would be no easy escape if he wanted to part ways.

 

Meanwhile, in another part of the station Julian was quickly wrapping up a long shift of working on the inoculation experiment. He’d offered to take the earlier shift so that Gaven could meet up with Cheval and have some time with him before he came in to start his own shift. Though Julian intently wanted the chance to be with Gaven again so that they could get back to where they’d left off, he knew that he was just going to have to suck everything up and wait this time.

 

Frustrated and out of sorts because he was hungry and couldn’t just conveniently stop over at Quark’s for his lunch, Julian stormed the promenade in search of his sustenance and spotting a little Bistro across the way that he hadn’t been to for some time, he made a beeline for it slipping easily through the mid-day crowd. The bistro was quite popular and a small, disorganized line was already forming filled with those planning to order carry away. As Julian moved in to take position at the back of the line, he nearly tripped when a very hippy Fuagi dancing woman had turned abruptly behind him to chat with her friend as they got in line. For lack of a better option Julian briefly seized the arm of the person in front of him to avoid tripping in full and knocking the other person down with him. Luckily, the figure grabbed him firmly by the arm turning into him to hold him steady with the brunt of his body until Julian got his feet planted properly.

 

“Guh. Thank you. So sorry. You know how those Fuagi dancers are. All hip and very little spatial awareness.” He quipped lightly hoping the other man hadn’t taken offense.

 

“That’s alright. No harm done.” The other man said in an even low tone not letting go of Julian’s arm.

 

The man’s voice struck a nerve in the small of Julian’s back that his brain didn’t immediately process and when he realized the man in black was still holding onto him, he finally took the time to look at him in the face. What he saw shocked him to his very core. “Oh my God…”

 

Conrad Wittle flashed his thin pearly smile at Julian and tightened his grip ever so subtly on his upper arm. “Hello Julian. Nice to see you again.”

 

As quickly as the man said his pleasantries, he promptly let go of Julian who was cautiously backing away from the line.

 

Conrad tilted his head to the side and raised the paper bag in his other hand that had just been handed to him by the cashier.

 

“Hungry? Why don’t we have some lunch.” It wasn’t really an offer as much as it was a declaration that Conrad had already decided for them.

 

A few moments later Julian was planted at a nearby table with his hands practically cemented to either side of the table rim.

 

“Conrad what are you doing here on Deep Space Nine?” He demanded in a low hiss.

 

For the other man’s part Conrad was all relaxation as he lounged casually with one leg crossed over the other. A thick pastrami sandwich in one hand and a bottle of spicy mustard poised in the other so that he could add a new dollop to every bite.

 

“I’m here on business of course. What else? I’m doing some public relations work for a certain Mr. Hagath. It’s all very regular but, what can I say, I like to slum now and again.” Conrad said coolly giving an indifferent shrug.

 

“So, you’re working for that despicable murdering arms dealer now. I should have known. Lord knows he’s the only type that would have anything to do with you at this point.” Julian hissed.

 

“Tut, tut. Don’t be bitter. As you can imagine I’m actually quite sought after in the region and in these delicate times I pretty much have my pick of who I want to assist. Hagath may be a murdering psychopath but he’s also an extremely sensitive man with exacting high standards. Standards that I happen to be very good at living up to. So few people really have the vision for true exceptionalism and excellence anymore.” Conrad said smoothly.

 

“Oh GOD. You’re in bed with him too, aren’t you?” The idea was utterly perverse and meant Conrad wasn’t just working with Hagath, he was all out manipulating him for his own sick amusement.

 

“You really are a slimy, despicable, manipulative, son of a…” Julian began to lay into him.

 

“Why can’t you give me any credit for this?” Conrad said unmoved. “Has it ever occurred to you that I’ve grown? Developed myself? I really think I’m making Hagath a better person.”

 

“How?” Julian demanded disbelievingly.

 

“Since taking up with me he’s killed 35% less of his subordinates who disappoint him, tripled his profit margin in non-lethal deterrent technologies, and he’s in the best shape of his life. If all goes well, I’ll have him out of the arms business in less than two years. Think of the multitudes I’ll save from his uncouth ways. Not to mention all the fun still to be had while I do it. You remember how much fun things could be, don’t you Juli dear?” Conrad asked.

 

Julian cringed at the old endearment and felt like he might throw up. “You’re delusional. Just...I have to go. Right now.”

 

“That’s a pity. We’ll have to run into each other again. It’s been such an unexpected surprise to see you, Julian. I’d very much like to do this again.”

 

Feeling entirely like he had been slipped a psychogenic drug, Julian murmured something and pushed himself away from the table.

 

“Stay away from me, Conrad. I’ll only warn you once.” Julian threatened viciously before he turned and quickly stalked away.

 

“Mm. Dear, Juli. Your warnings are like a sweet sweet love song to my ears.” Conrad said wistfully to himself, before he smiled happily and took another enormous bite of his sandwich.

 

Notes:

[1] Pages 544-645 are a rewrite of the arms dealer story arc “Business as usual” (DS9:S5:E18).

Chapter 37: Lovers Knot

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Lovers Knot

 

“I want him off the station! I don’t care how you do it, but it needs to be done.” Julian protested passionately as he walked back in forth in Benjamin’s office practically hysterical.

 

Julian had started off with just Odo but had made such a commotion that it forced both Kira and Odo to escort him into the Captain’s office to plead his case.

 

“Doctor, get a hold of yourself.” Benjamin ordered in near the same tone he’d used in reprimanding Quark. “Now what exactly is the problem here?”

 

“What’s the problem? My let me count them for you, Captain. We’ve got Quark running about the station like a lap dog treating it as his own personal wholesale lot for some of the most despicable weapons of mass murder out there. There’s a well-known arms dealer that’s practically moved in and who is bringing the most depraved tyrants, dictators, and sycophants this side of the Milky Way here like it’s a vacation destination. And NOW we have Conrad Wittle. One of if not the most well-known con artists, criminals, and sociopathic Don Juans in recent memory to ever come across a Federation’s ethics board. I know there’s nothing we can do about Quark and his new boss Hagath thanks to the Bajoran governments poorly placed sympathies -No offense, Major-, but damn it!  Conrad Wittle is a freelancer. Surely we can do something about him?” Julian ranted.

 

“Julian, why don’t you just sit down for a second.” Kira murmured as she tried to get a hold of his shoulders and guide him to a chair.

 

Reluctantly, Julian sat down.

 

“Sorry for being ignorant about this but who the Hell are we talking about here?” Kira asked, trying to understand the situation as she righted herself and stepped back to look first at Odo and then at Benjamin.

 

“Mm. I looked up his file. His full name is Conrad Algernon Wittle the Tenth. Apparently a rather precarious character.” Odo muttered, unhelpfully.

 

“Conrad Wittle was a multigenerational Ambassador for the North American Embassy for Intergalactic Relations. A prodigy and an expert in his field. He was later unceremoniously ousted when it was discovered that he allegedly was selling Federation secrets as well as the identities and locations of several of Starfleet's assets in sensitive quadrants.” Benjamin explained.

 

Odo blinked a few times and shook his head. “Yet he was never arrested and charged? How is that possible?”

 

“They couldn’t unequivocally pin anything on him.  While they could prove he had access to the information and the people for whom the information fell into the hands of, they couldn’t prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he was the leak.” Benjamin supplied.

 

“Not to mention about a dozen worlds across the quadrant with non-extradition agreements with the Federation would have gladly harbored him.” Julian murmured darkly.

 

“Wow. Is he really that good at what he does?” Kira asked in wonder.

 

“Yes.” Julian replied. “Conrad makes a point of being exceptionally good at everything he does. Considering it’s been a few years now, I’m sure he’s only refined his talents further and acquired many more. 

 

“Just what is your connection to this Wittle person, Doctor?” Odo asked.

 

“We were close friends at the academy and rivals on the racquetball court. He was three years ahead of me. I was in Command school when the boom dropped about Wittle’s nefarious activities. Looking back it’s easy now to see the kind of man he really was, but at the time the truth blindsided me. It blindsided just about everyone. At that point I cut ties. Anyone with any sense cut ties as we all nervously waited for Conrad Wittle to just disappear. One thing to his credit, he always knew precisely when to leave any place, situation, or event and he always made sure he left an impression before he did. Captain if he’s here, there’s going to be trouble. One way or another. I realize we may not have grounds to oust him right now. But it’s only a matter of time.” Julian was beginning to calm down now, and with that calm came a reluctant understanding of the limitations of the situation.

 

“All we can do is wait this one out.” Benjamin advised. “The real problem is Hagath. If he goes everyone else will follow including, I'm sure, our Mr. Wittle. In the meantime, I can only encourage you Doctor to steer clear of the man. He obviously brings out irrational passions in you and I cannot have my CMO compromised like that. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Yes.” Julian agreed in a low tone. “Crystal.”

 

~@~

 

“Mr. Quark. You’re not listening to me. I’m telling you that there’s nothing medically wrong with you.” Gaven repeated calmly.

 

“No. You’re not listening to me. There is definitely something wrong. I don’t sleep well, eating brings me no satisfaction these days...And you see this?” Quark began to turn his head to the side only to wince in pain as something pinched in the side of his neck.

 

Gaven pressed his lips as he listened to the flustered Ferengi’s complaints.

 

“Let me ask you something. Is Dax still not speaking to you? Is any of your Starfleet friends making any contact?” Gaven inquired.

 

“No. The bar has been completely blacklisted. But never you mind about the ingratitude of people. I’ve been doing just fine without all of them.” Quark muttered defiantly.

 

“Even so, it must be pretty hard for you these days. I mean...The only people you seem to have left to turn to are your family and these new colleagues of yours. If you want a diagnosis, I might suggest your suffering from acute stress induced discomfort.” Gaven offered.

 

“Is that a nice way to say it’s all in my head? You’re alot of help. You know that?” Quark muttered.

 

Gaven shrugged. “Cognitive dissonance can be very disgruntling. In any case there’s nothing I can do for you besides give you a dose of acetaminophen and encourage you to try and relax. Beyond that I might suggest you find someone you trust and talk through your conflicting thoughts and feelings with them.”

 

“You don’t know much about we Ferengi, do you?” Quark asked, eyeing the doctor.

 

Gaven leaned into the examiner table and smiled thinly. “No. But it’s on my to do list. I would like to know more, but I’ve been finding it hard to locate a complete copy of the Rules of Acquisitions.”

 

“Yeah?  The fully unabridged and annotated version includes forty-seven commentaries, nine hundred major and minor judgments, and no less than ten thousand considered opinions. It's no light reading. Not even I've read through all of it and I'm about as Ferengi as they get.” Quark muttered.

 

Gaven shrugged. “I'm told there's a rule for just about any imaginable situation and if I could acquire a copy, I'd of course throw in a generous finder’s fee. Although I'd need it in the cheapest binding possible.”

 

Quark's mouth dropped open slightly. Investing in the cheapest binding possible for the book was actually the most Ferengi way of acquiring it. Binding the book in anything better was considered vulgar by Ferengi standards.

 

“You know, the more I think about it the more I marvel over how anyone could possibly mistake you for a human.” Quark muttered, wincing once more.

 

“Compliment accepted.” Gaven replied. “Hold still.”

 

A few seconds later Gaven administered a Ferengi appropriate dose of acetaminophen.

 

“There. That should help.” Gaven said. “Rest there for a few minutes and then you can go. I sincerely hope you find the balance between what is profitable and what you can live with, Mr. Quark. Let me see, Rules of Acquisition #125. You can't make a deal if your dead. Recall that stress is a stealthy killer. But a conflict of conscience is a bloody assassin.”

 

At that, Gaven patted him on the shoulder and limped farther into the infirmary to see to the next patient.

 

Quark felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. Though he was trying hard to pretend like his business arrangement with Gaila and his associates didn’t bother him and that he was a purist Ferengi just following the most logical path to profit; the truth was the whole business did bother Quark. It bothered him immensely. Over the years Quark had done a lot of shady, immoral, unethical deals. But they were always schemes of his own design and when he had gone along with others who were less trustworthy Quark had always made sure he had an viable exit strategy that would get him home safe and free. As much as he lived by the precepts of Ferengi profit, his sense of self-preservation was his greatest vice eclipsing everything else. This time though there seemed to be no easy escape and now that his cousin Gaila was planning to retire and stick Quark with his job, Quark knew that something had to be done if he wanted to enjoy the rest of his life, short as it might turn out to be. While the bar wasn’t much it was wholly Quark’s and he liked his life the way it was. Being a mass murder by association simply was too heavy a burden for him to carry the rest of his life and it chilled him to think his cousin Gaila had made a lifelong career of it.

 

“Rules of Acquisition #261: A wealthy man can afford anything except a conscience.” Quark muttered under his breath as the pain in his neck began to slowly subside.

 

It was hard to know if the pain relief were because of Gaven’s ministration or because Quark had come to a decision he could finally live with.

 

~@~

 

Conrad Whittle was excellent at many things.

 

While he was most famous for his complex skills of communications, negotiation, coercion, and his ever-astute attention to the artistry of details; Conrad’s favorite accomplishments involved the simplest of things. Whistling for example, Conrad was a natural whistler. In another time and life, he might have made a significant career simply on the tails of this single talent. In this time and place though it was only a pleasant pastime and an indicator of his magnanimous mood. Conrad loved being generous and forgiving especially to those who were clearly lesser than himself. Kindness was the easiest luxury in the world to bestow and consideration was the best currency.

 

When Conrad Wittle had come across his most recent mark and lover their mutual understanding of magnanimity had been the primary attractant between them. Val Hagath was a long tooth psychopath, hiding behind the guise of an accomplished sociopath. That was why Conrad was so interested in him. On the surface they seemed the same. Both were sharply intelligent men of vast experience and social prowess. Both utterly lacked empathy, Hagath because he was incapable of it and Conrad because he intentionally chose never to develop that aspect of himself. While he was technically capable of seeing through the perspective of another and putting himself in their shoes, Conrad saw no reason to actually do any such thing. Not when his own perspective was much more interesting and brilliant and his shoes far more polished. Conrad didn’t just think he was magnificent, he knew he was, and his outer reality regularly reinforced this belief. More importantly, Val Hagath adored him.

 

The man was truly smitten with his new toy because he understood it was a toy that would always look and feel shiny and new no matter what happened. For Hagath that was the rarest of things and Conrad had every intention of exploiting his rarity, though he knew in the end it would never protect him if Hagath decided he was a liability. Val Hagath was, of course, incapable of holding real love for any person or thing. The arms dealer’s motivation in life was to simply remain entertained. Everything he had built was centered around this motivation. The only motivation a man like Hagath could have when he’d already attained everything else. Conrad on the other hand was motivated by something else. He needed to maintain the echo chamber of his own excellence. While perfection was appealing, he was smart enough to understand that perfection in the grand scheme was unobtainable. But excellence was a matter of comparisons and that was something he could attain regularly and with razor precision.

 

For this reason, Hagath was amusing enough. Hagath easily fed into Conrad’s vanity and his exacting standards and fickle moods were delightful to Conrad who breezed through the challenges of working with Hagath like they were child’s play. Nevertheless, Hagath was still a stone-cold mass murderer on a planetary scale and for that reason he needed to be rendered benign. Destruction was too simple and far too good for the man. Figurative castration, on the other hand, was perfect.

 

The only reason Conrad Wittle was on the station at that time was because Hagath was there and even then, he spent as little time in the man’s presence publicly as possible. Until now he had no other interest for being in the area. Conrad was generally a one project at a time kind of fellow and since he wasn’t a typical kind of associate of Hagath, he was operating in his present capacity purely as a temporary freelancer which afforded him a unique freedom of thought and movement that were not afforded to anyone else in Hagath’s orbit. Conrad was also a professional whose service fees matched his impeccable results helping to keep him in his preferred lifestyle no matter where he happened to be. It was a lifestyle of extravagant comfort and ample privacy, Although Hagath was pleased to pay for his work on specific jobs the arms dealer understood that it was not economical even for someone like him to employ Conrad as a permanent agent.

 

All in all, Hagath’s time on the station was amounting to a boring drawn-out expansion that Conrad saw little to no value in. Knowing the Federation as he did, it was only a matter of time before Hagath annoyed the stations occupants enough for them to move against his presence. Once that happened there were a few likely end games and none of them were going to be particularly amusing. Conrad would have been pleased to leave and forget all about the dreary setting of affairs if it hadn’t been for one unexpected event.

 

Running into Julian Bashir of all people by chance on the station had been a true and utter surprise for Conrad. A delightfully delicious, beautiful surprise. Since it was relatively easy to carry out Hagath’s desires and the man was usually all business when setting up a new foothold for his enterprise that the station was quickly becoming, this left Conrad with a great deal of unchecked free time. Hagath didn’t care a wit about what Conrad did when they weren’t together if he did his jobs to perfection and Conrad always pleased him. But as of now there were no specialty tasks to be had. Conrad had successfully dealt with Farrak and his blunders and brought all the desired players back into Hagath’s fold. With his hefty fees secured and Hagath thoroughly distracted with other business Conrad was free to do as he liked.

 

Focusing on Julian Bashir, his old friend and partner was just the ticket. Good dear Juli. The one that got away.

 

In truth, once Conrad had been exposed at the American Embassy, he’d had no choice but to make a hasty disappearance. For Conrad, the exposure itself had been of no consequence. He’d of course orchestrated everything himself. Every aspect had been designed by him. His first grand project to better the universe while elevating himself. The exposure had done exactly what he had intended it to do. Help establish a wide-ranging network of clients and develop his notoriety in the quadrant so that when it was time to leave Earth for new parts unknown, he could transition into his new career with flawless fluidity. The transition had been everything he’d wanted it to be and more.

 

Never once had he considered the impact his actions would have on those who thought they knew him best. Conrad had still been involved with Julian when it had all come to head even though their relationship was strained by that point. Julian Bashir had always been a smart person. In his academy days he’d been a bright if shy sort. Cooperative but not overly social. Enthusiastic about his projects and studies but wary of anyone getting too close to him on a personal level. Conrad had always suspected Julian of keeping secrets and holding himself back and it was this fascinating self-deprecating restraint that had originally attracted Conrad to him once he’d gotten to know the man better.

 

Despite Julian being an accomplished prodigal student, Conrad had met him first on the racquetball court and not in a classroom. It was the one avenue where he believed Julian absolutely had never held back. On the racquetball court Julian Bashir was a fierce, organized, and calculated competitor. Perfection mattered to him and Julian measured himself not against his wins and losses but against the flawlessness of his conduct and technique during the match. For himself, Conrad was well above par as an athlete, but he relied heavily on his popularity and charming intimidation to win his matches. With Julian none of that pageantry worked. When up against him on the racquetball court Conrad had been forced to try and better himself if he wanted to win.

 

Julian had always managed to convince Conrad to improve himself because he was the only person who had ever managed to point out his inadequacies. That was the element that had ignited the passion between them off the court. Their relationship had lasted nearly seven years. Though it was hard to imagine a man like Conrad Wittle genuinely loving anyone outside of himself, any capacity he actually had to love had been completely centered on Julian. It was for this reason that Julian’s ultimate rejection of him and complete expulsion from his life had legitimately hurt Conrad Wittle’s limited feelings.

 

There had been no discourse between them. No grand explaining. On the day that the truth of his conduct had been discovered, Conrad had sought Julian out to say his final goodbyes. In that time there had been no thought of denying guilt or convincing Julian of anything. Conrad had only wanted to see his lover one last time so that when he left, he could carry the image with him always.

 

But Julian had denied him the luxury. For once Conrad Wittle had found himself beaten to the punch and when he’d gone to find Julian in all his usual places, he discovered the man had completely vanished with no indication of where he was. Conrad had delayed his departure for three days in pursuit of him. But his search and even his wide network of informants who were still speaking to him could shed no light on Julian’s whereabouts. Conrad left Earth without achieving his final aim, having no other choice given that delaying any longer would have seriously jeopardized his ability to get off planet. After that he’d never looked back and, in reality, he’d rarely thought about Julian Bashir or anything about his life back on earth since.

 

Now though with Julian fresh in his thoughts all those memories and feelings flooded back into him as if it had all been only yesterday. With of course an emphasis on the emotions that had pressed upon Conrad the most. Julian had hurt Conrad’s feelings. As it had been before, the wound had reopened itself with exquisite sharpness and now bled just as surely as if it had just been inflicted.

 

The pain was spectacularly revitalizing.

 

God bless, Juli.

 

As always, he managed to broaden Conrad’s horizon’s just by being himself.

 

Using the public computer directory, Conrad inquired as to where Julian’s quarters were located on the station and smiled flashing his white teeth indulgently. Standing away from the computer terminal he tossed a small brightly wrapped and extravagantly tied box in the air catching it expertly and began to whistle an ancient earth nursery rhyme that had been handed down through the generations. The pitch and tone were flawless.

 

 All around the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel.

The monkey thought 'twas all in fun

Pop! goes the weasel.

 

A penny for a spool of thread

A penny for a needle

That's the way the money goes

Pop! goes the weasel.

 

Half a pound of tuppenny rice

Half a pound of treacle

Mix it up and make it nice

Pop! goes the weasel.

 

I've no time to wait and sigh,

No patience to wait 'til by and by.

Kiss me quick, I'm off, goodbye!

Pop! goes the weasel.

 

 

~@~

 

After his outburst in Benjamin’s office, Julian was advised to call in sick for the day and to take it easy. Still unnerved by the entire situation Julian had taken the Captain up on his suggestion and gone promptly home where he had gone straight to bed hoping to get some distance between himself and this new living nightmare.

 

His relationship with Conrad Wittle was the final secret of Julian’s past. It was somewhat disturbing how everything had blown up around him lately. The truth of his augment status, the reality of the relationship between he and his parents, and now Wittle appearing on freak chance out of nowhere. At least, of all his secrets his relationship with Conrad had been genuine if painful. Through its entirety Conrad had kept his nefarious deeds to himself and not dragged anyone else but his subjects into the business. Hopefully with any luck the others would find a reason to peacefully kick Hagath and his cronies off the station. Surely once they did Conrad would go with them as he would have no other reason to stay.

 

After a few hours of dreamless sleeping, Julian eventually woke up feeling entirely stronger and more secure. A little distance from any problem usually did wonders on a person's constitution and after a brisk shower Julian felt optimistic enough to maybe try and pop over to the infirmary to check on Gaven who was never very far from his thoughts and see if he wanted to come over for dinner. The prospect warmed his spirit and filled Julian with a romantic dreamy energy.

 

His good feelings of warmth and security were immediately dashed however when Julian went to leave his quarters only to discover a small brightly wrapped gift box waiting for him just outside the door with no one in sight to indicate where it had come from. Seeing it, Julian instantly scanned the passageway superstitiously but found no one lurking that he could detect. His eyes fell back onto the box.

 

Julian wasn't sure what to do. But an icy lick up his spine told him that Conrad was behind the strange brightly colored package. After a full minute of staring at it, Julian reluctantly picked it up and backed up into his quarters. The box was certainly Conrad's doing and had Julian not been the type to burn with curiosity despite his better judgement, he might have chucked the damn thing directly into the nearest incinerator. That would have likely been the wisest course, but then again for as intelligent as Julian was, he was not always emotionally smart and, in this case, his morbid curiosity at exactly what kind of game Conrad Wittle was playing at got the better of him. 

 

Only mildly concerned that the box was a bomb or perhaps filled with Andorian sand fleas, Julian gripped the end of the multi-looped bow and pulled releasing the perfectly symmetrical folds of the top of the box’s multi-colored paper wrapping. Had it come from anyone else, anyone at all Julian might have kept it for its beauty, the way the paper almost bloomed open like a rose. The image brought back undesirable memories of past sentiments between he and Conrad that were now forever tainted.

 

When Julian finally peaked inside, he groaned.

 

The box contained a miniature treacle tart. Immaculately prepared. Julian didn’t like treacle tarts, but Conrad had always enjoyed them and frequently made them to the point of such high execution that he’d once paid for an entire new racquetball court by auctioning off one of his homemade versions at a charity event some years ago. The racquetball court was still in wide use on Earth and still bore the Wittle family name on its bench plaque that had been bought in turn by the local government to commemorate the contribution.

 

Atop the tart was perched a small paper folded over once. When Julian plucked it out to read it, he saw the short message was handwritten in ink calligraphy. The message contained only one word and a time.

 

Dinner. 7:00.

 

The note wasn’t an invitation or even a peace offering. It was a statement of command. How like Conrad to come at him that presumptuously. Scowling Julian marched the entire mess over to the trash incinerator and dropped it in with an audible thud.

 

“Don’t do it. Don’t engage him.” He advised himself out loud as he gripped the edge of the counter as if it would somehow reinforce his argument.

 

“He’s just trying to get to me.” Julian reminded himself as he tried to ignore the fact that by even touching the package and taking it inside, it would be viewed by Conrad as an agreement of participation.

 

No doubt Conrad would know somehow that Julian had taken the bait. If he’d had any sense at all he would have left the box right where it was and refused to answer his door if Conrad came around. He could still do it. He could pretend he’d never found the box and that he wasn’t home. But somehow to take that route now felt cowardly. Like Julian was afraid of Conrad. Ignoring the man at this point would only encourage him more, Julian knew. When Conrad Wittle wanted something, he became absolutely relentless. No. The best way out of the situation was to allow a confrontation so that he could figure out what Wittle wanted from him. Perhaps once Julian knew, something could be done to get Wittle to leave him alone if not get him to leave the station.

 

~@~

 

At precisely seven o'clock sharp, Conrad Wittle rang Julian Bashir's door.

 

When it opened, Julian wasn't waiting on the other side to see him and there was absolutely no indication that he'd put anything more than coffee on. Bending at the waist Conrad stuck his head and torso through the threshold. Scanning from left to right in a wide slow sweep.

 

“Knock. Knock. Tis the wolf, says I. Might I come in?” Conrad asked in a theatrical snarl.

 

“Not by the hairs of my chinny chin, chin.” Julian replied in a deliberately articulated tone.

 

“Ah, Julian. You are home.” Conrad took a large single step into the space so that the entry door could close behind him and shroud them in the privacy he craved just then.

 

“Thank you for having me for dinner.” Conrad remarked, tugging at his opulently detailed waistcoat made up of cream-colored silk and a tan, gold, and silver brocade.

 

Julian who was sitting in an armchair along the far side of the room, about as far away from the entry as he could get; narrowed his eyes in a glare at the man. He wasn't amused anymore by Conrad's double entendres nor put at ease by his disarming demeanor and bright smile.

 

“What do you want, Conrad?” Julian’s voice was commanding and entirely deadly sounding.

 

“I wanted to see you, of course. What did you think I came here for?” He replied with genuine ease since there was nothing Julian could ever say to effectively intimidate him.

 

“Harassment, coercion, general dickery and or intentional malicious intent. Take your pick.” Julian muttered. “In any case, Conrad, you’re not welcome in my home or anywhere near my general orbit. I don't want to chit chat, mince words, or otherwise reminisce with you about anything. Not now or ever. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

 

Conrad scoffed lightly and stepped to the side with his hands in the air effectively putting the kitchen counter and a table between them in case Julian was planning to pull out a phaser or, better yet, try to assault him further with a stream of verbal barbs and lashy glares.

 

“I see. You don't want to speak to me. All right. Then don't speak. I don't mind dominating the conversation. But Juli, dear. A conversation we are going to have.” Conrad replied in his own forceful way that could have made someone enthusiastic about willingly walking into a firing squad. “Like it or not you and I have unfinished business between us. Once it's settled, I promise to go away and not bother you again. Scouts honor.”

 

“Honor?!! Don’t you dare speak such a thing as if you know what it is or have any. You are a disgrace. You broke sacred trusts that put thousands of lives at risk with the information you sold. And you did it all with the senseless carelessness of a child sweeping away their toys purely on a whim.” Julian fumed, glaring daggers at the other man as he dug his fingers into the cushioned arms of his chair.

 

“I don't know what honor is? Hmmm. And what about you Julian? You know, you’re not exactly in any position to lecture me about such topics. I may indeed be a kind of monster. I won't deny it. Why should I? I'm about as immoral, and manipulative as they come. And I've successfully made a lifelong career out of it. What can I say?  I’m very happy. What have you done lately? Besides prove what a big fat phony you are? I may be a manipulative, ridiculously wealthy for all the wrong reasons, and well-connected bastard of a rogue with a panache for exploitation but you can't ever say I haven't been true to myself.” Conrad lectured at a rattling pace.

 

“Been doing some light reading, Conrad?” Julian challenged, realizing that by now Starfleet had probably updated his official service record to reflect his augment status and that it likely outlined vaguely the case associated with it which was at least somewhat accessible to people who bothered to look through such records with any legitimate interest.

 

“It hurts me, Julian, to know you never told me that you’d been augmented. Seven years together and you lied all that time to me about who and what you were.” Though it might have been hard to believe, there was the ever so slightest of quivers in Conrad’s voice that indicated he was genuinely disclosing the truth of how someone else had made him feel. Truth was, after all, the best policy in diplomacy when all else failed.

 

“You would have just exploited the information if you’d known. I might have loved you once but even for all my blind naivety I had enough sense to know I couldn’t trust you with the truth.” Julian remark in a low bitter voice. “Lie to me and tell me I’m wrong.”

 

“No. You’re right. I totally would have exploited your augment status.” Conrad agreed resting his arms on the counter to prop himself up as a self-indulgent dreamy smile came over his face while he briefly imagined the possibilities of what could have been had he known the truth and been able to convince Julian to join forces with him.

 

It could have been magnificent. But the moment was now long gone, and Conrad wasn’t the type to have regrets. He was however the type to hold a grudge.

 

“You know, I looked for you before I left Earth. I was legitimately frantic. But you disappeared on me.” The hurt was there again sharp and jagged but restrained as he pushed off the counter and skirted around the other side keeping a respectable distance from Julian but inching slowly closer like a slow-moving octopus.

 

Murderous intent was for the patient.

 

Julian wasn’t deeply concerned about Conrad’s intentions at least while in the confines of his private space. If he were going to move against him it would be out in public where the brilliance of his vengeance could be observed by a wider audience.

 

“Yes. Well, I didn’t really want to speak to you. Or see you. Or have anything to do with you. You’re a bad person Conrad. Not a gray person. A bad person. I had my entire career going for me. I was building a life for myself that didn’t have any room for your kind of bad press. Associating with you once you crossed the line and embraced your criminality was not something that I was interested in.” Julian said cuttingly leaning forward slightly.

 

Conrad narrowed his eyes at him, and his easy expression melted into something harder and more dangerous. “I never would have hurt you, Juli. You were much too valuable to me.”

 

“Valuable? You mean weak. In your eyes I wasn’t worth your time or your efforts to dismantle or destroy. Though I highly doubt you still feel that way now. What’s wrong Connie, dear? Feeling a little cheated suddenly?” Julian tilted his head at him expectantly.

 

Conrad leaned back in the dining chair he’d taken possession of parting his knees to grip the seat of the chair as he considered this strange and exotic version of his former partner. It was very nearly transfixing.

 

“I do actually. Yes. And I admit, I underestimated you all those years ago. A mistake that I can promise will never be made again. But in fairness to me, you were intentionally being deceptive. Always the quiet and steady one. All that time. The kindness to my cruelty. The shadow to my radiance. There was a time when I might have imagined us to be perfectly sympatico. But I see now that you’ve become a completely different person than I thought you were. A better person in fact.” Conrad conceded.

 

“Jealous?” Julian asked.

 

“Un-for-givably.” Conrad replied, once again he was all languid ease and charm.

 

“Well, shall we come to it then?” Julian was growing tired of this cat and mouse game of theirs.

 

“Hm. Contrary to probable belief I didn't come all the way over here to fight with you, love. I came over here to apologize and to offer up a boon of good will between us.” Conrad explained expansively.

 

“There’s nothing you could possibly offer me that I’d want, Conrad. Except for maybe your permanent departure.” Julian said cuttingly.

 

“Oh. You want me off the station? Never mind. Of course, you do. Unfortunately, Juli I have business here I must attend to. You being here is a marvelous surprise and wasn’t something I planned for, but let’s just say that I’m willing to stay out of your business if you stay out of mine. How about that?” Conrad asked.

 

“How generous of you.” Julian dead panned. “But I’m not going to promise you that. There is nothing you could do here that would be anything other than nefarious in nature. This is my house, Conrad. Shit in it at your own risk.”

 

A thrill of pleasure ran up Conrad’s spine. As much as he had always enjoyed the man’s sensitivity and gentility, sensing the threat in his words and manner added for a delicious new layer of Julian that Conrad found dangerously appealing. At this point he knew they would never be on the same side of anything, but now more than ever Conrad wanted to know what it could feel like to face off opposite each other one on one. Would it feel as thrilling as it always had? Or could it possibly be even better? He burned to know.

 

“Alright. Fine. I never was able to say no to you. That face. Mm. Tell you what. I would be willing to conduct the remainder of my business off the station if you’d be willing to do me one teeny tiny little nostalgic favor. Play a match with me, Julian. A public one. I won’t even set stakes about who wins.” Conrad implored him.

 

Julian stared at him for a long time. The man was truly confounding to him. “You’ll leave if I play you in a racquetball match up.”

 

“Yup. A public one. Agree and I’ll start packing my bags today. It’s very simple.” Conrad pressed.

 

“Even if I were willing, Conrad. I doubt the Captain would allow it. This is a fully operational space station, not a convention center.” Julian protested.

 

“Nevertheless, Juli. Those are my terms. Take them or leave them. It really doesn’t matter to me one way or another.” Conrad lied.

 

Now that he’d spoken the idea into existence his mind was already reeling to formulate a complex plan of action. One that included a series of desires he hadn’t had until the inspiration for them had struck him. Now there was no putting the monkey back under the mulberry bush. Conrad needed to face off with Julian. He needed to know he was still better than him at something and now that the truth of Julian’s identity had been discovered Conrad realized to his greatest dismay that the truth absolutely nullified every victory he’d ever won over Julian both on and off the court. The possibility of Conrad having to face his own fallibility where he had once been so assured, he was completely infallible, was a crack in the perfect veneer of Conrad’s private world and twisted psyche that he could not allow to exist. There was something more to it though. Failure could not be tolerated in Conrad’s mind. Conrad either needed to win or Julian needed to die. There was no two ways about it.

 

“Alright, Conrad.” Julian suddenly agreed. “If you can convince the Captain to host the match and ensure it’s safe and fair. I’ll agree to play you.”

 

Julian knew he was walking head long into a trap, but he also knew that the first step of avoiding one was knowing of its existence.

 

“You’re an absolute treasure, Julian. Whatever was I thinking in letting you slip through my fingers.” Conrad mused out loud, shaking his head in both wonder and insincerity.

 

“That’s easy, Conrad. You weren't thinking of me. Not at all.” Julian muttered knowingly as he slowly settled back into the chair.

 

Julian knew he was playing an extremely dangerous kind of game with Conrad. But old habits die hard and Julian, in this moment, couldn’t help himself.

 

Chapter 38: Setting the Stage

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Setting the Stage

 

One thing that made Conrad Wittle so good at winning others over was that he always did the things he said he would do. That was Conrad’s nature. If he said it no matter how unlikely it was, Conrad would make it so. Had he been less a sociopath and more a compassionate empathetic being, this trait would have elevated him to near Godhood. Instead, Conrad Wittle always seemed to fall just short of such glorification because, although he had many likable qualities and could at one point have developed himself in quite a different way in utilizing them, it was his belief in his own egocentric exceptionalism coupled with being a person of birth born privilege that had sealed his fate and condemned him to an extraordinary life of self-serving impulsivity and unparalleled extravagance in all things.

 

With all that said, whenever possible Conrad liked to lace his narcissism with magnanimous gestures. Perhaps it was his way of justifying the rest of his behavior. Conrad also, like every Wittle man that had come before him tracing back through the most obscure echelons of time, was a devout practitioner of the Carnegie method. So ingrained where the twentieth-century philosopher’s, ideas that the Wittles, by this point in history, more or less believed themselves to be the modern-day originators of his sociological tenets. They were tenets that the Wittles had learned over time to universally apply no matter who they were trying to influence and win over.

 

Case in point, While Conrad was plotting the murder of the one person that he’d ever genuinely loved outside of himself, he had also taken it upon himself by association to arrange the liberation of an adjacent player in the clockworks of his plan.

 

His target for the moment, for no other reason outside of the fact that Conrad wanted something simple from him and wanted it quickly and easily, was Quark. Under any other circumstances, Conrad would have ignored the Ferengi’s very existence. He cared absolutely nothing about Quark’s business ties to Hagath and his minions, nor Hagath’s interest in him as a replacement for Gaila who was starting to show his age along with his dull conscience. If Gaila had any self-respect at all he would have simply killed himself. Instead, he was taking the cowards route and trying to casually shrug the weight of his existence off on someone else through the guise of retirement. Had Quark been the type to genuinely enjoy the work, Conrad might have approved of the arrangement. But Quark only liked the profit involved and it was obvious that soon if left to his own devices, the other Ferengi would crack. Quark, after all, was a person driven by his self-preservation first and last. Conrad had understood that about him on sight.

 

There was no greater time to solicit the bar owner than right now. Convenient luck of timing given that, unbeknownst to anyone, Quark was orchestrating a plan of his own to get out from under his Cousin and Hagath’s thumbs and restore the station’s limited faith in him. No matter what Quark told people, losing all his Starfleet and Bajoran affiliated friends were weighing heavily on him. Quark liked his life on Deep Space Nine. He cared about the people who had come to occupy the station and even though he sometimes felt like a failure in terms of his ingrained Ferengi expectations, the people of Deep Space Nine made Quark feel important and involved in the goings on of the Galaxy in a way that nothing else in his history and past experiences had. Though he hated to admit it, Quark knew deep down that there was more than one definition for being a rich man and if he was going to live a life that was cash poor, he was at least going to do so in the company of those who gave a damn about him and whom he genuinely liked in return.

 

The only question now was how to do it.

 

Pro. If Quark crossed Hagath the worst thing that would happen was that Hagath would kill him if he found out. Since Quark knew the man liked efficiency his death would likely be quick. Con. Quark liked living and didn’t want to die under any circumstance quick or otherwise.

 

Pro. Whether he lived or died standing up to Hagath would likely save twenty-eight million lives and Quark could die knowing he was a hero. Con. Even if he defied Hagath and ruined the most recent deal, Hagath would just find someone else to do business with who was eager to kill a planet worth of people and then no one important would have any idea Quark had valiantly sacrificed himself. What was so good about dying a hero if he was the only one who knew about it?

 

Whatever he did, Quark needed to make sure there would be at least a small chance of living through the ordeal or else he might as well have just jumped out an airlock on his own and let everyone else clean up his mess.

 

Having just woken up from a horrific dream in which he’d gotten all his friends killed, a disturbed Quark headed for his nearly empty bar to clean his glassware and think about what he was going to do. Quark always found repetitive tasks to be helpful when his nerves were fraying out of control and sure enough as he stood there wiping down shot glasses and beer mugs, he felt his agitated mind begin to blissfully drift.

 

The feeling didn’t last long thanks to the arrival of an entirely unexpected guest.

 

“Ah. Mr. Quark. Just the man I wanted to see.” Conrad Wittle said as he appeared through the back entrance looking like a prince out of some whitewashed human fairytale.

 

“I’m sorry but due to low numbers, the bar is closed until later this evening. If you’re here for a drink you’ll have to come back or go elsewhere.” Quark lied, hoping by the Prophets the frightening man would leave.

 

“Don’t worry. I never drink this early in the daytime anyway.” Wittle remarked brightly.

 

“Oh yeah? Then what do you want?” Quark growled. As afraid as he was of Conrad, there was no way things could get any worse than they already were and so he risked insulting the man by showing his open disdain for him.

 

“I want to save your life. Unless of course you really want to work with Val Hagath and throw everything you’ve built here away? If that’s the case I can go find someone else to do a good deed for.” Conrad muttered with startling bluntness and a warm expression that really did seem authentic.

 

Quark grunted. What the Hell? He was game to play.

 

“Well, if you have a proposition I wouldn’t be much of a businessman if I didn’t at least hear you out. Consider it a professional courtesy from one scoundrel to another. Come on back and let’s step into my office.” Quark muttered slyly.

 

A few minutes later they were sitting in Quark’s secure back room. Not the main one but the secret one that only he and Rom were allowed into.

 

“Well? I’m listening.” Quark muttered diplomatically as he stood along the back wall and clasped his hands together in front of him.

 

“I have to tell you first that I owe you an apology. You see, as you probably know I’m not a regular kind of associate of Val Hagath’s and he’s hired me in a more freelance capacity. As such he’s not technically my only client and seeing as this is a rather small universe professional conflicts between adjacent business matters do occur.” Conrad began.

 

“Ah huh. And, huh, what business conflict between whom are we talking about here?” Quark asked, refusing to panic before he knew the details.

 

“It's your mutagenic retrovirus supplier. You see before I took up with Hagath I was representing the Minnobian's in their peace discussions with the Vek but it eventually came to my attention that against my advisement the Minnobians decided to go a different way in regards to handling their disagreements. Obviously, since I prefer to deal in peace and not war whenever possible, I had no choice but to discontinue my services with them...As a parting goodwill gesture however I did recommend that they might redirect their investments towards your supplier whom I thought would better suit their interests. Purely coincidental. Recently, I happened to notice that the Minnobians made good on my recommendation and put in a bid for the current supply of the retrovirus you’ve also been trying to procure. It seems that as of this morning their bid beat out yours. Bad timing, I'm afraid.” Conrad clapped his hands together and shrugged.

 

Quark gasped a little bit but miraculously held his composure.  “How courteous of you to warn me.”

 

“Yes. Though it wasn't my doing, I admit I felt badly about the circumstances. Hagath is a very unforgiving type when it comes to those who disappoint him, and he seems to think very highly of you. Now that you know, I have every confidence you'll be able to recover yourself; but I thought to sort of help things along, since I feel partially responsible for your situation, that I'd grease the way a bit for you and help myself along the way in the process.” Conrad said.

 

His manner of speaking was a perfect storm of sincerity and hopefulness.

 

“You want to help me because you need me to help you with something. What...Could I possibly do for you?” Quark nervously chuckled shaking his head in wonder.

 

“Well, the way I see it you need to buy yourself some time to find an alternative supplier and product to appease your clientele and I happen to need a venue for a very unique sporting event. The Regent, I’ve heard, is very fond of betting on alien competitive sports and as it happens, I need a venue space for an unprecedented racquetball match up that might just interest and distract him for a day or two. I would, of course, finance the entire event and pay any additional fees associated with utilizing the venue space…” Conrad was watching Quark with rapt attention.

 

“Any fees?” Quark swallowed.

 

“This event is very important to me, Mr. Quark. Money is no object.” Conrad said softly, knowing his intended message was already taking root.

 

Quark, of course, knew perfectly well how much Conrad Whittle was reported to be worth. Hagath himself once admitted the man was too costly to keep on his payroll permanently even with his vast resources. Not to mention that Conrad was a legend in the sector in his own right, at least among certain circles of people. Conrad ran a sophisticated kind of racket that was too smooth and highbrow for someone like Quark to bother trying to compete with. He'd also heard that Conrad's core signature of everything he did was to keep his word. If he said it, then it was so.

 

Money is no object.

 

The sentence was the most seductive thing Quark had ever heard come dripping from the lips of a human.

 

More importantly, he saw the opportunity in it. Conrad was offering him a lifeline. If Quark could find a way to double-cross Gaila and Hagath and get them out of the picture without getting himself killed, he could use the exorbitant profit that Conrad promised to clear his remaining debts, get control of his bar back, and maybe even have enough left over to feel like a proper Ferengi businessman again.

 

In Quark’s mind there really wasn't a downside to any of it. Even if he failed, in at least one way, he'd still win. Furthermore, the loss of the mutagenic retrovirus wasn't such a big deal. Quark already had a backup option in mind. One that at least wasn't nearly as deadly.  Not that it was going to matter since Quark didn't plan for things to get that far. A wormy plan was forming as he and Conrad talked.

 

“I think something suitable for everyone involved can be arranged. But, huh, these Starfleet wet blankets may prove problematic. I’m good, but even I have my limits.” Quark warned, hoping Conrad already had that part of the equation well in hand.

 

“Don't worry about securing the proper permits. Consider it part of my responsibilities. I have every reason to believe the papers will be in your hands by the end of the day.” Conrad assured him.

 

It was close enough to a promise that Quark had no reason to believe it wouldn't occur. Conrad Wittle was indeed terrifying. What possible leverage could he have on the station to convince Captain Sisko to relent? Quark didn't know and he didn't want to know. All that mattered was that if everything went right all the station’s more recent problems would take care of themselves.

 

~@~

 

“Exactly what part of my advice did you not understand, Doctor?” Benjamin said sternly late in the morning upon calling Julian into his office.

 

“You have a lot of explaining to do so get talking mister,” Benjamin grumbled as he slid the datapad containing the details of Conrad Wittle’s permit requests and outline for a cooperative racquetball match between him and Julian Bashir intended to be open to the public for consumption.

 

“I'm sorry, Captain. But I had no choice. Now that Wittle knows I'm here, he's become determined to engage me.” Julian muttered swiftly.

 

“I’m sorry, Doctor but I find that mentality to be unacceptable. If you felt that he was fixating on you, why didn't you go to Odo or the Major about it?” Benjamin questioned.

 

“Your right. I should have. I see that now.” Julian conceded, not actually feeling that remorseful over his rash impulses where Wittle was concerned. “But with that said I think we are looking at a golden opportunity that may never come again.”

 

“A golden opportunity? Alright, fine. Let me ask you this. What exactly do you expect me to do about this? You do recall there's an active ban on Quark's. If I consent to allow one of my officers to participate in an unsanctioned sporting event that features you and a man who's on the Federation's watch list, how do you think that's going to look for everyone concerned?” Benjamin rationalized.

 

“Well, that depends, Sir.” Julian had been prepared for Benjamin's resistance.

 

“On what? Do enlighten me.” Benjamin said sardonically as he curled himself into his office chair.

 

“On whether we catch Wittle in the act of committing a crime. Sir, the Federation has been after him for years. Wittle's own family wants him prosecuted and grounded for tarnishing their otherwise immaculate family name. Everyone knows he's a criminal and a dangerous sociopath, but up until now, no one has been able to reel him in or catch him in an incriminating act. I propose that we should treat the match like a sting operation. I know him. He’s not just trying to settle a friendly score. Conrad is angry with me. I don't know how he'll strike back, but I do know this match proposal of his is his way of setting the stage for his retaliation. He'll want to do whatever he plans blatantly with an audience because that's the kind of bastard he is.” Julian explained.

 

“So, you expect me to go along with this and agree to use you as bait?” Benjamin remarked. “Suppose he does come after you somehow, are you really prepared to risk your life over it? Wittle is by no means stupid. His past indiscretions show he's a master at arranging things in such a way where he never takes a direct fall. I don't expect this time would be any different.” Benjamin argued.

 

“Remember how you said that Wittle inspires irrational passions in me? Well, I assure you that I inspire the same in him. If he's going to make a mistake it's going to be here and now. Conrad is intelligent. But he's also impulsive. As long as I hold his attention, he will skirt recklessness.” Julian explained.

 

“Skirt recklessness? I see. So, this is about more than just a soured friendship between the two of you.” Benjamin pointed out perceptively.

 

Julian didn't respond.

 

The look on his face said everything Benjamin had already guessed.

 

“Never mind. We have to approach this thing with all due caution. This one time I'm going to relent. But doctor, don't ever put me in a position like this again. You're still on thin ice with Starfleet and if this thing blows up in our faces it could end careers if not lives. I need some time to make arrangements. But for now, Wittle will get his way. In the meantime, I'm giving you a direct order to stay the Hell away from him.” Benjamin commanded.

 

~@~

 

Things moved very quickly after Julian and Benjamin’s exchange. After waiting a believable amount of time and after briefing his senior staff about the business, plans were put in place to approve the permit requests. With them came strict restrictions that Benjamin was sure would not be questioned. Namely that although Doctor Bashir was technically a Starfleet Officer he was not currently on duty and had the right to participate in what he wished during his personal time but that Starfleet personnel in general were still banned from any attendance of the match with the exception of Odo and his security team who would be overseeing the safety of the event in conjunction with Doctor Ore who was technically not a Starfleet member and thus free to assist Odo, Quark, Julian and Conrad in the preparations of the event as he saw fit.

 

Word of the unusual racquetball match spread quickly through the station and then beyond it since several Klingon ships were still holding ground nearby. There were also many new shady characters on the station as well as many of Quark’s alien civilian patrons who Quark could rely on to generate buzz and fill seats. Wagers would ultimately be set in more than one betting circle. As usual, Quark made sure to drop key information designed to entice and attract attention to the specialness of the event ensuring all the proper name dropping led to the right kind of controversy that would catch the interest of those around him.

 

Conrad Wittle’s reputation preceded itself even among the Klingons so there was no difficulty there. Julian Bashir was a little harder to generate excitement over until people were reminded that he was an augment and that this match was about proving once and for all the superiority of the natural born human spirit over the evils of human augmentation. The angle was of course particularly disparaging to Julian who normally would have balked and protested over inflaming the stigma of augmentation and the fear that those who were augmented thought themselves better than those who were not.

 

Meanwhile, Odo, Kira, Dax, and Benjamin formulated their sting operation.

 

“You all realize this is insane right? Just what the Hell are we hoping to accomplish here?” Kira protested once more as they all sat in Benjamin's conference room discussing the business.

 

“As I’ve already explained Doctor Bashir is convinced that Conrad Wittle plans to strike at him and that this whole damn racquetball event is simply a stage in which to do so on. It’s going to be up to us to make sure he doesn’t succeed if he tries something.” Benjamin muttered.

 

“It’s a racquetball match. Just how much damage can two men do lobbing a ball between them against a wall?” Odo questioned.

 

“I dunno. Both Julian and Wittle were professional players in their academy years. On record Julian’s fastest serve was 115mph. Wittle’s best on record was on the high end of the average.” Dax explained. “No matter how you cut it, that’s fast enough to injure or kill someone. Not to mention Julian admitted that while he always sought to play honestly and competitively, it was likely that on a subconscious level he regularly held back for fear his skill would draw suspicion about the source of his talent.”

 

“If something does go down there is no way to predict how it’ll come about. What we do know from Wittle’s MO is that he rarely appears directly at fault so if he does target the Doctor it may come from something outside of him.” Benjamin suggested.

 

“Great so we have to worry about assassins and interlopers and not just Wittle himself,” Kira grumbled. “This feels ridiculously complicated.”

 

“Look, the way I see it is this. Conrad can strike him directly with say a fast serve or with faulty equipment like a tainted ball. He could also hire out. Plenty of people plan to bet on this event. It would be easy for Wittle to leverage that fact and set something up indirectly to influence things. A hit or other outside tampering of some kind is just one possibility.” Dax said.

 

As they nulled these thoughts over, Miles finally appeared. He’d been late getting off shift and likewise had been late dropping Kirayoshi off with Gaven who had offered to babysit while Keiko spent some quality time with Molly.

 

“Sorry. Sorry.” Miles muttered settling into his chair.

 

“You know what I don’t get? Why is any of this even happening? Why is it our job to trap Wittle at all? What is this all really about?” Dax muttered in frustration.

 

“You want to know what it’s about? What is it always about with these kinds of things?” Miles rattled irritably.

 

“Revenge.” Kira supplied.

 

“Or money.” Dax offered.

 

Miles scoffed. “Not bloody likely. Whatever this is, it’s far more personal than that.”

 

“Mm. Did you have some insight you wanted to share on the subject that we don’t already know, Chief?” Benjamin inquired.

 

Miles pressed his lips. “No. I just think...I mean, this is Julian we’re talking about. Besides his augment status what’s he ever lied to anyone about or leveraged against anyone? I can tell you one thing, this isn’t about money or revenge exactly.”

 

“It’s about settling something between them.” The captain affirmed. “Why don’t we get something out in the open right now. Having spoken to Doctor Bashir I’m under the impression that this business between him and Conrad Wittle is of an intimately personal nature.”

 

“Well, isn’t that cryptically worded. What are you saying?” Kira questioned.

 

“Huh, I think I know what he’s saying.” Dax blurted opening her eyes wide for a moment as she looked down at her datapad.

 

“Guh. Are you all daft or something? What is this? Primary school? What the Captain is trying to say is that Julian and Wittle are having some long belated lovers tiff. Yeah, that’s right. At the risk of violating Julian’s privacy let me just state that those two were a serious item back in their school days. Till Julian jilted Conrad after he turned out to be a damned menace. That is what this is about. Conrad is settling a score. He’s a jilted lover out for payback.” Miles declared, crossing his arms over his chest and grinding his teeth as he turned a ruddy color. “Furthermore, Julian is playing right into his hands. If we’re going to get him then let’s get him before somebody gets killed or court-martialed.”

 

“Personal motives aside the real challenge here is that we have to control as many factors as possible without looking like we are. We have to appear hands off with this.” Dax pointed out.

 

“It’s clear we're going to need help.” Muttered Odo. “Believe it or not Quark might be a legitimate ally. I have reason to believe he greatly dislikes Wittle and he loves his bar too much to let any significant harm come to it over a trifle. if I can bring Quark’s staff into the fold, I believe we'll have home advantage. Rom is nearly as technically capable as a standard officer. He can secure both the equipment and the field of play. Leeta can help survey the crowd. While she's not much of a waitress, I've come to find she's quite an accomplished sociologist for a layman. Finally, Doctor Ore should be able to cover the medical side of things.” Odo explained.

 

The bulk of the sting operation had largely been dumped into his lap.

 

“Speaking of Gaven, shouldn't he be here with us?” Kira asked. “I know he's just an asset but…” Kira remarked.

 

“For the time being, I've chosen to exclude Doctor Ore from knowledge of our operation,” Benjamin remarked.

 

At this casual remark, everyone seemed surprised.

 

“Is there a particular reason we’re excluding him, Captain?” Odo managed to mumble.

 

“Doctor Ore is a Starfleet asset and doesn't deserve or need to get caught up in a covert operation such as this.” Benjamin stoically said.

 

The reasoning was a convenient enough excuse, but it was clear from the pressed looks on everyone else’s faces that they suspected that wasn't the only reason the Captain saw fit to keep the doctor out of the situation.

 

“Right. It's settled then. Everyone knows their jobs. If there are absolutely any problems, they are to be brought directly to me. Dismissed.” Benjamin said.

 

Everyone took their sweet time shuffling out of the conference room for once except the Captain who departed almost immediately to handle other business.

 

“Just to be clear,” Dax pronounced once Benjamin was gone. “We all agree why we're really not including Gaven in this. Right?”

 

“I don't know that he'd agree to go along with it. Not if it put Doctor Bashir at undue risk.” Odo remarked.

 

“Risk? Gaven would have a bloody conniption, more like. And frankly, I can think of a few choice words regarding this fiasco waiting to happen I could say for myself.”  Miles said as he ground his teeth. “Julian might just have gone too far this time.”

 

“Well, if anything does happen to Julian or anyone else for that matter there's going to be Hell to pay. I think Doctor Ore has a wonderful temperament but…” Kira said shaking her head and not finishing her thought.

 

“I don't know. Maybe this will turn out to be a good thing. Those two have been dancing around each other for months. I mean, everyone sees it right?” Dax questioned.

 

“It's certainly been the slowest burn I've ever seen,” Kira remarked.

 

“I think they're afraid. Of what it's hard to say.” Odo said. “In any case, I've never seen Doctor Ore legitimately angry about anything on the station. If Doctor Bashir is injured again over something as frivolous as this, we may just see a side of Doctor Ore that we haven't seen before.”

 

Chapter 39: Rooks and Pawns

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Rooks and Pawns

 

“What do you mean you can’t get your hands on the mutagenic retrovirus?” Val Hagath said, as he towered over Quark and his alien companion Talura as they conferenced in a small well secured and secluded side room along the habitat ring. 

 

Hagath’s tone was predatory, but like any great predator he was patient enough to let Quark attempt to explain himself before he figuratively went for the jugular.

 

“Our supplier sold all he had to the Minnobians for their war against the Vek.” Quark explained.

 

Hagath approached him. Although still predatory there was a subtle indifferent softness to Hagath that reminded those present of his general philosophy regarding his agents. You were family until you weren’t.

 

This attitude was just what Quark was counting on.

 

“This isn’t good.” Hagath remarked nearing Quark. “I’ve just been telling the Regent that his shipment will be delivered within a week. He’s leaving right now. He’s not going to be happy, Quark! 

 

Quark’s eyes progressively widened as Hagath advanced upon him until they were nearly nose to nose with Hagath hanging over him where Quark sat only to finally shove off him at the last minute. 

 

“I know.” Quark conceded feeling not nearly as afraid in the situation as he might have had he gone into their meeting unprepared. “He’ll be stuck with twenty-eight million people and no way to kill them.” 

 

“I’m glad you’re amused, Quark.” Hagath remarked as he turned towards the window to look out among the stars. 

 

While Val Hagath could have purely blamed Quark for the situation, the businessman in him also blamed himself. It had been Hagath and not Quark who had promised the Regent a product before it had been properly secured. Furthermore, Hagath did genuinely like Quark for his reliability and special talents up to this point. As such he had little desire to kill him unless he had to, nevertheless their problem still stood.

 

Quark could sense this conflict. It was fascinating to see sentimentality in a bonafede psychopath like Val Hagath. Quark privately wondered if this was the influence of Conrad Wittle. Conrad was thankfully not present and yet Quark had it on good authority that the very reason they were meeting was because Conrad had greased the way ahead of time.

 

“Lucky for us I can get a hold of some Varaxian LM-7.” Quark said eagerly.

 

This remark caused Val Hagath to turn and look upon him. His gaze was no longer predatory. Now he looked simply tired. 

 

“Never heard of it.” Hagath challenged evenly.

 

“It’s a new biogenic weapon still in the experimental stage.” Quark was feeling more in control now and relaxed his stance as he sipped his champagne and assumed a knowing conversational tone.

 

“Is it effective?” Hagath demanded.

 

Quark waved dismissively and put down his fluted glass. “They’ll be dropping like flies. Only trouble is...I don’t know how much of it I can get.”

 

To this, Hagath rolled his eyes to the side and crossed his arms in consideration. Hagath respected honesty and it served to further steady his indignation.

 

This was exactly the look of measured consideration Quark was waiting for. It meant Hagath was focused on the bigger picture and not specifically on Quark’s role in the matter. Now was the time to drop the bait.

 

“Do you think the Regent would be satisfied with only seventeen million people killed?” Quark began in a tone so boyishly casual and curious that he nearly convinced himself of the acceptability of his immoral words.

 

Hagath considered this like a father considering the innocent question of a favored son and began walking towards Quark again. 

 

“Well, seventeen million, um…” His tone was finally completely casual, even playful as he suddenly turned toward Talura and smiled. “It’s better than nothing.”

 

“Then what you have to do is tell him there’s been a change of plans.” Quark rose from his seat matching Hagath’s more casual tone as he began to circle the room. “Tell him we have something new to show him. It might take a little longer to get the results he wants but we’ll give him a twenty percent discount. In the meantime, I’ll have a sample of  Varaxian LM-7 sent here and we’ll arrange for a small demonstration. We’ll find a planet with some low-level life-forms on it nobody will miss.”

 

Hagath seemed to find this plan acceptable.

 

 “I’ll speak to the Regent and try to keep him from leaving. You make sure you get this sample here as soon as possible.” Hagath said thoughtfully before his mood changed and he was again returned to the deft predator he was and advanced on Quark. “Don’t fail me, Quark.”

 

Quark had the good sense to back up slightly and once again assume the soft toned boyish mannerism of the soft-spoken sociopath Hagath believed him to be. The truth was Quark had no intention of securing the sample. If everything went according to plan neither he, the Regent, or Val Hagath would need it.

 

“Believe me, I want this deal to go through more than anybody. I’m finally out of debt. These are the first profits I get to keep. Plus, I took the liberty of securing a way to keep the Regent here. Trust me, he’s going to love it. I’m sure your sources know what a competitive better the Regent is. Well, it just so happens that my bar is sponsoring what might turn out to be the sporting event of the century. Tell the Regent we’ve arranged a special box just for him and his entourage. I guarantee for the next twenty-four hours murder is going to be the last thing on his mind.” Quark said brightly.

 

“You’re talking about the upcoming racquetball match between that obnoxious augment doctor and our esteemed Mr. Whittle. Yes, Conrad has spoken at length about it.” Hagath mused.

 

‘Consider the additional opportunity. The Regent won’t be the only high-profile leader in attendance. You may find all kinds of interesting prospecting while the Regent enjoys his latest distraction.” Quark pointed out.

 

“I admit, Conrad has also remarked more than once how fond the Regent is of high-profile sporting events. Perhaps I can make this work to our advantage. Just as long as you come through with everything else that I need from you Quark. Get going.” Hagath growled as he practically shoved Quark out of the door.

 

Once the door shut behind him Quark stumbled a few steps and then sighed heavily in relief. The easy part of his plan was over. Now the real work began.

 

~@~

 

“Val Hagath is an arms dealer? I can’t say that I’m familiar with the occupation.” Gaven admitted as he sat across from Dax at her dinner table.

 

Despite their busy schedules, Dax had carved out some personal time to have Gaven over for an impromptu lunch. 

 

“Oh well an arms dealer, in broad terms, is someone who illicitly trades in weapons of conflict. Such people are war profiteers. They’re a middleman who provide things like guns, or other lethal equipment to a particular group of people or individuals who solicit their services. Val Hagath is the worst of the bunch.” Dax tried to explain.

 

“I see. It all sounds...Unspeakable. Furthermore, I don’t understand how such a character would even be tolerated on this station.” Gaven said as he poked at his lunch plate with his fork.

 

“Yeah. I know it seems utterly ridiculous. No one connected to Starfleet is happy about the situation. The truth is it’s complicated. Val Hagath is being protected by Bajor. During the Cardassian occupation it seems the Bajorans were provided with critical weapons that helped turn the tables in the Cardassian occupation. As far as the Bajoran government is concerned he’s practically the reason they were able to liberate themselves. So, unless something happens on the station our people can prove we can’t touch him.” Jadzia explained.

 

“It’s an unsettling notion.” Gaven muttered. “I can see now why Starfleet is distancing themselves from it. Although I can’t imagine they can ignore it forever.”

 

“I know it’s hard to understand.” Jadzia admitted.

 

“Yes, well I find as of late, there's a lot in this universe that’s hard to understand.” Gaven admitted. “Until I left Oum, concepts like war were foreign to me.”

 

“Your species is pacifistic in nature.” Jadzia observed.

 

“By most standards I suppose so. I can’t say my people are completely devoid of internal conflict and malicious incident. But it is true that overall my species is cooperative and collaborative in nature. I certainly can’t think of an example in my people’s modern history that compares to the kind of conflicts I’ve become aware of since I’ve been off planet.” Gaven explained.

 

Jadzia noticed Gaven had stopped eating when they’d begun this line of conversation and it occurred to her that the subject of violence disturbed him. Knowing what she now knew about Gaven’s time since being expelled from his homeworld it was understandable that the subject would be distasteful to him.

 

“Conflict seems to be a universal condition. Planets enslaving other planets. Species fighting for space and resources. Fighting for domination. I admit when I used to visit the great observatory in the capital and gaze up into the stars wondering who and what was out there, I never quite imagined how volatile, chaotic, and unpredictable the universe really was for so many lifeforms.” Gaven mused.

 

Jadzia frowned. “You don’t approve.”

 

“I don’t.” A slow smile settled across his face. 

 

“But I hardly think it matters if I approve or not. Even the smallest microcosm operates in the same way.” Gaven remarked. “I do find that to be somewhat reassuring. Anyway, after having spoken to Mr. Quark I get the impression he doesn’t really approve of everything that’s been going on either. You two are friends as I understand?”

 

“I used to think so.” Jadzia said, sighing.

 

“I see.” Gaven said nodding sympathetically.

 

“Why don’t we change subjects. Worf told me you’re taking self-defense lessons from him. He’s been quite impressed by how quickly you and Cheval are picking the basics up.” Jadzia said.

 

Gaven chuckled. “Your partner is a good teacher. I’ve mostly been observing. Julian doesn’t want me getting too involved until I allow him to repair my leg.”

 

“Speaking of Julian, I feel terrible about interrupting you guys the other day in the Holosuite.” Jadzia apologetically said.

 

“Don’t be. It was unavoidable.” Gaven reassured her.

 

Jadzia watched Gaven with acute interest. Was Gaven blushing?

 

“Julian doesn’t show Vic’s Lounge to many people. It’s a special place for him.” Jadzia baited.

 

“Mm. Yes that was the impression I got.” Gaven agreed.

 

This time the color in his face was unmistakable.

 

“You looked beautiful that night by the way. Everyone thought so. Even Worf remarked on it and that’s saying something. You must be feeling more like yourself these days.” Jadzia observed compassionately.

 

“I do. Although I must admit that I wasn’t quite prepared for everyone’s reaction. I think in the future I might tone it down a little.” Gaven muttered.

 

“I don’t know, Gaven. I hardly think you’re going to be able to walk back the impression you made the other night. You’ve always been a remarkable person. I think it’s a good thing that people start noticing you more. Who knows who might want to become better acquainted? That Gulba IV delegate comes to mind, as well as Jyrrus Cheval, and of course…” Jadzia knew the next name she was about to drop was pushing things but seeing as how Julian had confided in her about his feelings for Gaven it seemed high time someone give the men a healthy nudge. “There’s Julian.”

 

Gaven didn’t immediately react. He simply looked Jadzia in the eyes and took a bite of his salad chewing slowly.

 

“I suppose,” Gaven began. “That you have an opinion on the subject.”

 

“I don’t want to meddle.” Jadzia carefully said. “But Julian is my friend and so are you. I want to see my friends happy and when the two of you are together you both seem...Content.” 

 

Gaven didn’t remark on her observation at first but it seemed clear that Jadzia expected response judging by the way she was looking at him.

 

“I’m going to talk to him, Jadzia. I want him to understand me.” Gaven replied. “I admit that in recent months I’ve perhaps sent confusing messages about my feelings and intentions. Considering how close the two of you are and the fact that you’re broaching the subject, I assume Julian’s confided in you regarding how he feels about me.”

 

“How do you feel?” She asked bluntly.

 

“Afraid. Lost. Restrained.” Gaven admitted.

 

The look of vulnerability in his large eyes made Jadzia pause. Although Gaven never shied away from telling the truth she saw in his eyes how much it had cost him to reveal his complex feelings to her. They were singular words and yet the weight behind them was crushingly heavy.

 

“Gaven? I know you're afraid. Whatever it is that’s stopping you from letting yourself pursue what makes you feel the happiest, you don’t have to face it on your own. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Jadzia reached across the table to squeeze Gaven’s arm.

 

Gaven set his fork aside and put his hand over Jadzia’s to prove that he accepted her comfort. “Regardless of what happens between Julian and I, Jadzia, I want you to know that I will do everything within my power to protect him even if I’m not always here on the station.”

 

Jadzia pulled her hand away slowly and privately wondered at this remark.

 

“It seems to me that you’ve been protecting him all along. The changeling attack, his augment status, his position here on Deep Space Nine. Julian has no idea how often you’ve really gone to bat for him and I don’t think you fully realize the extent of what he’d do for you if you gave him half the chance. But like I said, it’s not my business.” Jadzia let the topic go after that and slowly she and Gaven returned to easier topics.

 

Eventually, Gaven left. He was due for an evening shift in the infirmary.

 

Later when Worf came home the usually stoic Klingon actually seemed curious to know how their luncheon had gone.

 

“I wasn’t sure before…” Jadzia mused.

 

“And now?” Worf asked.

 

“I’m convinced Gaven’s in love with Julian. When or if either are ever going to admit it to each other is a different question.” Jadzia replied.

 

~@~

 

When Gaven arrived back in the infirmary he found someone he’d never seen before patiently waiting for him.

 

As Gaven caught sight of the tall brunet man who was presently flashing him a toothy white smile that oozed and conflated several different human aesthetics and social ideals, he frowned in return and slowed his pace.

 

“You must be the famous Doctor Gaven Ore.” Conrad Wittle cooed as he stood in front of an examiner table waiting to be attended upon. 

 

Gaven noticed how the man seemed to dominate the space around him by his sheer presence alone. Like a princely sun God straight from the mythologies of a dozen worlds. 

 

On instinct Gaven squared his shoulders and stiffened his back as if to fortify and inoculate himself from the stranger’s overbearing influence.

 

“‘I am Doctor Ore. I don’t believe we are acquainted. What is your name and how can I help you today?” Gaven asked.

 

Although he approached the man Gaven stopped short of coming closer than he had too and remained an arm’s length away from him.

 

“My name is Conrad Wittle. I’m here to set up an appointment for a physical. I plan to be participating in an athletic event to be hosted here on Deep Space Nine in a day or two.” Conrad said. “Doctor, if I may say, your reputation in this sector quite precedes you. I am entirely honored to make your formal acquaintance.”

 

Gaven frowned even deeper as he watched Wittle extend his hand to shake. Everything about the man repelled Gaven on a personal level.

 

“I’m sorry but if you’re talking about the upcoming racquetball competition, I believe it is customary that participants be screened under the direction and supervision of the presiding referee to ensure impartiality and fair play.” Gaven said as he and Conrad stared each other down.

 

“Well, well. A man of principle.” Wittle lowered his hand slowly ignoring the fact that Gaven had avoided it like the plague. “You’re quite right of course. Please excuse me.”

 

Gaven nodded curtly. “If there isn’t anything else that I can do for you, Mr. Wittle, then I hope you will kindly excuse me. I have other patients waiting to see me today.”

 

“You are a most remarkable creature. I don’t know what it was that I was expecting but I certainly find myself in no way disappointed. I heard a rumor that Oum like yourself are biological empaths. It must have been quite an ordeal for you if that’s true.” Conrad mused.

 

“An ordeal?” Gaven narrowed his eyes at Conrad.

 

“Saving Doctor Julian Bashir, of course. Your heroism is in the public record. Didn’t you know? Anyway, I can’t tell you how grateful I am. While I’m sure Doctor Bashir is quite beloved on this station, I doubt anyone here knows him quite as well as I do. So, trust me when I say, Doctor, that I am quite grateful for what you did for him. Although my Juli is a man of many admirable talents, he always was a bit delicate to the touch .” Wittle smiles slyly. “I can see, however, that you are entirely the opposite. I do hope Juli appreciates that about you. He’d be a fool not to.”

 

Gaven equally narrowed his eyes at this unprovoked speech. 

 

“Mr. Wittle allow me to make something clear. As the acting physician for this athletic event, I have equal responsibility to see that the participants involved are at peak physical and mental health and that they conduct themselves in an appropriate and professional manner. If any of this criterion does not meet my standards it is within my power to recommend that the event not be allowed to continue. That would include conduct that might be interpreted as attempting to influence the tournament officials. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” Gaven warned him.

 

Conrad seemed to further relax as a languid look of consideration came over his features and he leaned back into the examiners table. “Very well, Doctor. I look forward to meeting you again.”

 

Gaven scowled and walked directly away determined not to speak to the man again. The strange encounter had put Gaven on edge.

 

“You OK there, Sparky?” Doctor Fisk asked as he appeared out of one of the offices and came to stand close to Gaven careful to ensure he was out of view of Conrad.

 

“No. Who was that man I was just speaking to?” Gaven inquired.

 

Remi glanced nonchalantly over Gaven’s shoulder. It seemed as if the other doctor was trying to keep a low profile. Wittle was still there but on his way out taking his sweet time as he charmed his way into the promenade.

 

“That was Conrad Wittle. An extremely dangerous kind of character. He’s a villain and a sociopath who likes to travel around the quadrant being overly helpful to people in hostile situations. Earth has been trying to nail him to the wall for years but to no avail. I don’t think I need to caution you to be very careful around him.” Remi warned him.

 

On instinct Gaven glanced to the side superstitiously checking to see if Conrad was still there. “That man chills me to the core. He came here on purpose to confront me.”

 

“Mm. More like he came here to size you up.” Remi observed.

 

“Why? I don’t understand.” Gaven muttered as he began swiftly swiping through information on his data pad.

 

“Conrad Wittle and Julian Bashir have history. I can’t say I know the particulars, but I suspect they were an item for a while back in their academy days. It’s possible that he still feels somewhat possessive of Julian and considering it’s common knowledge that you two are colleagues and that you’ve saved his skin a few different times...I’m sure Wittle is curious.” Remi speculated.

 

“Do I need to be worried about this, Remi? Is there something going on around here regarding that Wittle fellow and Julian that I don’t know about?” Gaven tensely asked. 

 

“If there is, son, they’re keeping both you and I out of it. This racquetball tournament business is a setup of some kind although I question who is actually setting whom up. Orders have come down from the Captain for Starfleet personnel to stay clear of the event. I included. I can’t say I’m particularly pleased.” Jeremiah confessed. “I would have hoped Julian would have had more sense than this.”

 

“You’re saying Julian is a part of this business.” Gaven frowned deeply. 

 

“Yeees. I’d also say that your apart of it too. I presume that even though you’re considered a Starfleet asset, they’re allowing you liberty to act as an independent citizen and medical official for this event.” Jeremiah pointed out. 

 

“Why would they do that? If someone is planning something why not bring me into the fold and allow me to openly help?” Gaven questioned.

 

“Mmm. Maybe they think exposing the details would put you at undo risk or,” Fisk trailed off.

 

Gaven pressed his lips at him. “Or what?”

 

“Oh, it’s also possible I suppose that they’re worried you might not be inclined to go along with their plans. You would be within your rights to refuse participation and if they were planning some covert operation that resistance might tip off the wrong people.” Fisk speculated.

 

Gaven’s eyes widened at this theory. “There isn’t much the commanding officers on this station have excluded me from. I’ve been more than cooperative with all their requests up to this point. I can’t think of what they would be so worried about that they would suddenly start excluding me now. I...Wait.”

 

Gaven suddenly pressed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Of course. I think I see now. Remi, I need to investigate something. I know Julian’s off for the near future, but do you think you can carry on today without me?”

 

“I think I can manage.” Fisk said, shoving his hands into his lab coat and rolling back on his heels. “Go ahead and sit today out.”

 

“Thank you. Please excuse me.”  Gaven gripped his forearm crutch and began to turn away.

 

“Gaven,” Jeremiah said suddenly. “Julian Bashir is a good man and a great doctor but he’s still young and an augment. One factor by itself is ego inflating enough but add in more than one and that boy is liable to get himself into some hot water sooner or later that he can’t easily get himself out of again. You can’t protect him from every bit of folly he chooses to dive into.”

 

“I know, Remi. But…” Gaven held his breath and then let it out on a slow growl. “It’s complicated. I can’t...I’m not looking out for him just because he’s my friend. I...Love Julian, Remi. If someone is coming after him than I’m not just going to stand idly by and do nothing about it.”

 

Jeremiah saw blatant frustration as well as a sad love in Gaven’s large welling eyes and grunted in private satisfaction. “Well then you’d better get going and take care of your business, my good man. Just remember that Conrad Wittle is a dangerous, highly intelligent, and elusive predator. If he suspects at all that you’re onto him he’ll be provoked to attack. You think you're up to taking a man like him on?” 

 

“No, Remi. But I know someone who is.” Gavan decided.

 

~@~

 

Elim Garak was per usual at his shop working. It had been an unusually slow week for the tailor and considering the demographic change on the station with so many shady and alien characters looming about, many of his regular customers seemed less inclined to walk the promenade and go to public events. All in all, the day was proving to be obnoxiously banal so when Garak’s instincts told him to look up he was relieved to see Gaven slipping into the shop and even more intrigued by the look on the Doctor’s face.

 

Garak felt like he saw the doctor in passing often enough. During these times he’d seen a wide variety of expressions. Patient resolve, discomfort, satisfaction, awe. Gaven had a reputation on the station for being quiet and publicly even keeled but he certainly knew better than anyone that these were just Gaven’s default expressions. They were not indicators of who he really was or what he was capable of.

 

“Gaven, are you quite alright?” Garak asked as he stood and for once waited for the other man to walk all the way towards him.

 

“No.” Gaven replied with predictable honesty. “I need to talk to you. Privately, if I may. It’s important.”

There was legitimate steel in Gaven’s tone and Garak could see that the usually polite man was not really making a request of him. How deliciously assertive. Sensing intrigue was afoot Garak nodded slowly. “It’s been a slow day. Give me ten minutes to lock up and we’ll have a little chat.”

 

Precisely ten minutes later the shop was locked down and Garak had ushered Gaven to his tea table where he insisted Gaven allow him to replicate him something soothing.

 

To Garak’s fascination while Gaven allowed him to fuss over him, he never took his eyes off the datapad he was holding. Garak could tell Gaven was flash reading through content. His processing abilities were likely off the charts. Since Gaven had come out many rumors had begun circulating regarding the scope of his alien abilities. Most of it was hearsay as there was extraordinarily little confirmed data about the Oum species but Garak’s information reached a little farther than most people’s allowing him to piece together snippets of possibilities. There was a fierce determination exuding from Gaven. Determination and deeply rooted distaste. 

 

When Garak settled himself Gaven finally shifted his attention away from the datapad.

 

“Mr. Garak you are a knowledgeable person in matters of intrigue and galactic politics. Are you not?” Gaven bluntly asked.

 

“Um, well, I certainly do try to keep abreast of certain things. What an unusual question. Why do you ask?” Garak evasively said.

 

“There was a man who came to see me today. A Conrad Whittle formerly of Earth. Are you familiar with his name?” Gaven inquired, ignoring Garak’s inconspicuous tone.

 

“Of course, I know the name. Conrad Wittle is quite notorious for a human. I can’t say that I’ve ever met him, but I think it reasonable to assume that he’s had dealings with almost every major government I can think of in at least two Quadrants along with an innumerable amount of obscure and unremarkable individuals and organizations. Not that most officials would be keen to admit it, I’m sure. You say you’ve met him personally? What was he like?” Garak was genuinely keen to know if Conrad Wittle was as impressive as his reputation implied.

 

“Terrifying.” Gaven said in a hurried tone. “Mr. Garak in my time off my homeworld I have had many hostile encounters with individuals seeking to draw me out for one reason or another.”

 

As Gaven said this Garak saw him briefly disassociate. It was so swift that anyone else would have likely missed it, but Garak was a master interrogator among other nefarious things and was thus sensitive to such subtle reactions.

 

“In those many encounters, there was always…” Gaven hesitated to find the right words. 

 

“I know what you mean to say. You’re trying to say that in these past encounters you’re speaking of you saw the necessity of their actions. It made sense to you. There was a purpose to all of it that you felt you could relate to. You’re very sympathetic to look at your experiences like that. But I take it that your confrontation with Mr. Wittle was different. He’s a straightforward predator with no semblance of conscience. Is that about the gist of it?” 

 

“Yes.” Gaven agree quietly. “While he was speaking to me, he mentioned Doctor Bashir.”

 

“Mm. I suppose that’s not unusual. I know that Wittle has been given license to host a racquetball tournament on the station and that Doctor Bashir is set to compete against him in a most unprecedented match. From what I understand both Doctor Bashir and Wittle were former champions in the sport and given the doctor’s newly revealed augment status and Conrad Wittle’s reputation the match is generating quite a bit of attention.” Garak revealed.

 

“Mr. Garak I have reason to believe Doctor Bashir is being targeted by Conrad Wittle. I suspect this match is nothing more than a setting for some kind of movement against Julian and I believe that Doctor Bashir is intentionally putting himself at risk. I’ve come here today to ask for your help. I don’t think I need to point out why I believe you to be uniquely qualified to assist in this matter.” Gaven revealed.

 

“I? Uniquely qualified? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Surely, though if you believe Doctor Bashir to be in imminent danger, you’d be better served to go to our capable station Constable or directly to the Captain with your concerns. I hardly see what you think I might do for you that they cannot.” Garak coolly said.

 

Gaven narrowed his eyes at Garak and frowned. “Everyone I’ve talked to about Conrad Wittle has implied he’s a dangerous sociopath and criminal. The limited information I’ve been able to uncover about Wittle’s family notoriety and his past transgressions on Earth have confirmed this assessment. I’ve also been able to confirm his more recent association with Val Hagath the well-known arms dealer. Apparently, their dynamic is more than professional.”

 

“They’re lovers. My, my. What a pairing. That certainly doesn’t bode well for the quadrant, although I fail to see what the nature of their association has to do with our fine Doctor Bashir.” Garak baited.

 

Gaven pressed his lips. “One of my contacts has implied there is something personal going on between Wittle and Doctor Bashir. That’s what this whole tournament business is being motivated by. It’s some kind of twisted excuse to rehash some history of an intimate nature.”

 

This information struck Garak’s interest. “Mm. I’m starting to see the source of your concern. You believe that Wittle is fixating on Doctor Bashir because they were lovers at some point in their past.”

 

Gaven nodded slowly. “My impression when Wittle confronted me was that he saw Julian as belonging to him. He knows from his sources of our working relationship and…”

 

“He came to you intending to mark his property. How fascinating that he would choose to confront you in such a way.” Garak’s imagination was working at top speed.

 

“I don’t understand it myself. I don’t have any reference for his kind of warped psychology. Nevertheless, my impression is that Conrad Wittle doesn’t just want a general audience for his intentions. He wants someone to know he’s targeting Julian specifically with malintent. He wants me to know because although Julian is close to many people on this station, my name is what has become associated with his in the public record.” Gaven scowled and slight color rose into his face.

 

Garak saw this plainly, his pupils dilating in response to the sudden revelation that Gaven was coming to him not as Julian’s friend or as a concerned colleague but as something more. Was it remotely possible that the good doctors were romantically entwined? The very possibility struck a possessive nerve in the Cardassian that was not unlike the nerve that had been struck in Conrad Wittle’s skewed psyche. Like Wittle, Elim Garak was also a kind of predator. Unlike Wittle, however, Elim Garak was neither impulsive about his immorality nor completely devoid of compunction regarding his actions. 

 

If Conrad Wittle was hunting in his backyard the side of Elim Garak that was a Cardassian operative, interrogator, and assassin certainly planned to do something about it. As for Gaven, Garak could see the irresistible appeal of tormenting him. Gaven’s emotionality was so finely tuned that the expression of his suffering would be exquisitely poignant and would only be fully appreciated by the most refined of sadists. Conrad Wittle was not worthy of such a privilege and it was insulting to Garak that he had the audacity to suppose otherwise.

 

“My dear Doctor Ore. I believe I would like to be of service to you. You just leave everything to me.” Garak cryptically said as he patted Gaven’s free hand and clinked their teacups with his other hand.

 

Chapter 40: Assessing the Field of Play

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty: Assessing the Field of Play

 

Once the permits had been approved multiple people from different sides of the Bashir/Wittle operation began setting their various plans into motion. At the center of much of the intrigue was Quark who found himself suddenly one of the most popular people on the station. Business even without Starfleet’s presence was suddenly booming as betting circles began to form all over the station and beyond. On top of running his bar, Quark still had to make good on his duties to Hagath who had been able to successfully convince the Regent to hold off on the finalization of their dealings for some much-needed relaxation. The burden of killing millions, after all, could be quite taxing even when one lacked a conscience.

 

The tournament had been scheduled as a two-day event in order to break up the three planned sets that would be required to determine a winner. Quark’s job was to provide the venue and side entertainments. Fine. That was easy enough. Quark however still had to find time to make arrangements regarding his own scheme which entailed a very sneaky backchannel to the Regent’s declared enemy General Nassuc. The whole point of the Regent wanting a deadly bioweapon was so that he could make an example in the capital of Nassuc’s homeworld for daring to claim independence under Nassuc’s leadership from the Regent’s Empire. 

 

Sometimes, Quark thought to himself, the best course of action to avoid accountability for the outcome of a big conflict was to create a smaller more contained conflict in its place. 

 

Unbeknownst to his cousin Gaila, Hagath and his associates, and the Regent; Quark had arranged a little side meeting under the guise of selling his fabricated bioweapon to General Nassuc and her people to use against the Regent. If everyone happened to run into each other and they happened to engage in a healthy exchange of gunfire, then that was just a most unfortunate coincidence that had nothing whatsoever to do with Quark. When the time was right all Quark had to do was to make himself appropriately scarce once everyone accidentally got together. 

 

Quark’s plan was all well in hand as he prepared the bar for the big Bashir/Wittle face off and the racquetball tournament gave him a further means to make a healthy little sum on the side to be used for added insurance. Bribery didn’t work on Hagath, but it seemed to work just fine on almost anyone else.

 

Something Quark hadn’t expected was that Odo of all people also wanted to double down on an insurance plan of his own.

 

“It’s in your best interest to cooperate with me, Quark. You may have been able to scrape enough latinum together to get your bar back, but that doesn’t mean the controlling members of this station have to permit you to continue doing business here.” Odo growled.

 

Per the contractual agreement, security for the event was to be run through Odo and his security team. Presently, Quark was sitting once again in his office being very clearly harassed.

 

“That sounds an awful lot like a threat, Constable. But you do make a good point. So, I’ll tell you what.” Quark growled right back. “I’ll give you whatever you need. I’ve got a lot riding on this tournament and for once It’s in my best interest for everyone to behave themselves. So, what do you want? Dossiers on every seated ticket holder planning to be present? That can be arranged. Tamper-proof equipment? Rom’s been slaving over all the specialty scanners and alarms to be installed. I can have him give your people all the specs to check for yourselves. Just say the word.”

 

“How very accommodating of you,” Odo muttered with dull sarcasm. 

 

“You’re welcome. Now can we break up this party? I have a lot of work to do.” Quark complained.

 

“No, Quark. I’m not finished with you yet. I want you to tell me what you know about Conrad Wittle and the circumstances leading up to him approaching you?” Odo muttered.

 

“You mean besides that he’s a frightening piece of work? All I know is that he was in the sector doing some kind of work with the Minnobians and it just happened that he stopped over on the station.” Quark explained calmly.

 

“The Minnobians are actively at war with the Vek. Was Conrad Wittle helping to escalate the violence?” Odo pressed.

 

“No. According to him, he was trying to facilitate peace talks between the Minnobians and the Vek, but the Minnobians decided to go a different way and discontinued utilizing his services.” Quark replied. “If you’re trying to get him on war crimes, you’re going to be disappointed. Conrad Wittle deals in nonlethal conflict resolution. He’s famous for it. Anyway, if you want my opinion, it’s not Conrad Wittle your security team should focus on. It’s everyone else. The betting for this event is the most heated I’ve seen in a good long while. I’d be more worried about someone taking things into their own hands if it looks like they backed the wrong horse.”

 

“Yes, the thought has crossed my mind,” Odo grumbled.

 

“I, of course, don’t permit weapons on my premises but one can’t always account for everything,” Quark muttered. “Now can I go?”

 

“Fine. I’ll be following up with both Leeta and Rom just as soon as I can. But for now, I suppose we’re done here.” Odo muttered.

 

~@~

 

Julian had been in aggressive training since Wittle had approached him. While he’d always kept himself in shape there were some types of conditioning that were unique to playing sports and Julian’s dexterity still wasn’t quite where it used to be.

 

Since Gaven had been recruited to be the acting medical official of the tournament, Julian had regrettably not been able to talk to him and the plans they’d previously had to meet were put on hiatus. Nevertheless, Gaven was rarely that far from his thoughts and the emotional and sexual tension only served to motivate Julian to push himself even harder. In his downtime he had been working with Fisk to develop a detailed and updated psychological profile on Wittle in order to try and isolate potential risk factors when dealing with him.

 

Julian had to admit to himself that Conrad had certainly continued to cultivate himself. There was an aspect to Wittle that was decidedly altruistic. Before he’d betrayed the Federation’s trust he’d been one of the best negotiators of his generation. Certainly, it was true that Wittle had done arguably as much good as harm which was why so many people were willing to harbor him. It occurred to him that Conrad preferred to be a hero. He liked the notoriety and the fringe benefits that came along with it. Yet he didn’t actually care if people lived or died and suffered or thrived. He cared only about the execution of his ambitions. They were ambitions that arose seemingly at random.

 

Had the idea to betray the Federation truly been just some spontaneous whim? Had their love affair been only a passing calculation? 

 

Julian’s face and throat began to burn as he huffed and practiced his serves and counter maneuvers. One particularly intense back and forth between him and the droid like holo-opponent brought him tumbling to his knees to narrowly avoid the ball hitting him awkwardly at a speed much faster than average. 

 

Julian huffed and rolled onto his back. His thoughts were still analyzing and reanalyzing Wittle and Julian’s exchange. 

 

“I never would have hurt you, Juli.”

 

It was rumored that Wittle always kept his word. Maybe it was true. Maybe Conrad Wittle in his own twisted way really had loved him once upon a time. The remark, however, had been framed in the past tense. In the now Julian had no delusions about where he stood with Conrad.

 

What he didn’t know was where he stood with Gaven. 

 

Julian had been briefed on the Captain's decision to exclude Gaven from their operation. Personally, he was uneasy about it. Up until now Julian had never been asked to keep anything from Gaven. The senior staff had gotten into the habit of treating him like one of them. Certainly, if he had wanted to become a member of Starfleet arrangements could have been made. Yet Gaven had always been resistant to the idea. Excluding the Doctor from something so important however, felt almost like a betrayal. 

 

Julian pulled a water bottle out of his duffle and drank nearly half of it down as he checked his vitals and compared them to past measurements. By most human standards Julian was still functioning at an above-average level but given what he had once known himself to be capable of, Julian had to admit to himself that his laps in his racquetball playing coupled with his recent experiences had left him less conditioned than he would have liked.

 

 When he let his mind drift his thoughts tended to swivel towards the night in Vic’s Lounge. Julian commonly dreamed about that night as of late. His mind liked to particularly play over one simple aspect of their contact.

 

Julian remembered when Gaven had blatantly turned his wrist open so that he could equally take possession of Julian’s wrist. It had been the one time Gaven had asserted himself physically and intimately outside of a real or imagined crisis. Julian recognized the significance of that moment and groaned at the vivid memory of it.

 

 Damn Dax for having interrupted them!

 

Julian felt the soreness of his exertion start to settle in. It was time to stop for the day. Now especially he wished Gaven was there with him. Under other circumstances they would have likely trained together, and Julian would have regaled him with stories of his youth as a champion athlete. It would have been an opportunity to perhaps understand each other better and to become closer. It was so tempting to want to throw caution to the wind and pop over to Gaven’s just to see him. But Julian knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to lie to Gaven about what was really going on nor would he be able to conceal just how badly he wanted to be with him.

 

~@~

 

On the final day before the first day of the racquetball match, a certain tailor’s shop remained inconspicuously closed.

 

Elim Garak had been too busy and the station was too preoccupied with the Racquetball Tournament to justify being open. It had taken some doing but through Elim Garak’s mysterious and mind-bogglingly intricate network of friends, associates, and various backchannels both new and leftover from his days as an operative and member of the Obsidian Order; he was in short order able to amass quite a tidy amount of information about the more recent whereabouts and activities of the usually elusive Conrad Wittle. 

 

All Garak needed to uncover what he wanted to know was a starting place and thanks to Quark the connection between Conrad, Hagath, and a certain Farrak Harru who’s ship had recently experienced a most unfortunate and unexpected warp core breach resulting in his untimely death was just the starting place he was looking for. 

 

The full story had come out on the same evening Gaven had approached Garak. At the time Garak decided to stop in for a drink with Quark. Stressed and looking for a sympathetic ear, Quark was more than happy to take a break and regale his friend with the events of his day.

 

“He actually had the nerve to ask me what I knew about that Wittle character. As if I somehow keep track of every despicable human that comes traipsing about this station.” Quark started to complain referring to his morning of being interrogated by Odo, as they sat together having a quick drink in Quark’s private back room.

 

“Yes, and what exactly did you tell him?” Garak asked conversationally. 

 

“The truth. You’ve been following that silly conflict between the Minnobians and the Vek. That Wittle character was the one hired by the Minnobian’s to facilitate their peace talks. What I didn’t tell that busy body changeling was that once Wittle was fired he decided to turn around and start romancing Val Hagath, his competitor. Gaila told me that’s how they met. Wittle was batting at the time for the Minnobian’s while Hagath and Gaila were trying to convince the Vek to up the ante with biological warfare. Of course, once the Minnobian’s got wind of that they decided to counter strike with a biological weapon of their own.” Quark explained.

 

“Allow me to Guess. Hagath decided to try and recruit Wittle into his organization. Garak offered.

 

“Not a chance. Like I told, Odo. Conrad Wittle doesn’t deal in lethal measures. Its against his policy, apparently. Besides, Hagath by his own admission could never afford him. Pickings are too good in the sector for someone like him. The way Gaila tells it, Conrad Wittle set his sights on Hagath personally instead. He just showed up one day angry that Hagath had thwarted his efforts with the Minnobians. Well, it seems to me that behind closed doors they found a way to settle up professionally if you get my drift. You should see how they are together. It’s truly a match made in Hell. Anybody that could find someone like Val Hagath romantically appealing can’t be as opposed to mass murder and genocide as Conrad Wittle Claims to be. I know for a fact that all his high-minded nonviolent professionalism is a bunch of grub shit. He’s as much of a pacifist as I am a philanthropist. Mark my words, when it suits him Wittle has no problem offing someone for his own benefit.”

 

“Oh? Has he killed anyone I would know?” Elim asked in his sing-song manner while he sipped at his cocktail.

 

“Remember the warp core explosion of that privately owned little cruiser that was briefly docked here awhile back? Farrak Harru was one of Hagath’s agents. Hagath offed him for failing to seal the deal on a contract with the Verillians. Apparently instead of negotiating the deal with them, he was away on Risa having all kinds of fun. Seems to me that someone tipped Hagath off to Farrak’s shenanigans and from what I saw firsthand it seems to me Farrak and Conrad Whittle weren’t friends.”

 

“You think he set Farrak up?” Garak asked.

 

“Without a doubt. I’ll betcha a lifetime supply of Kanar that Conrad Wittle was responsible for the Metron Consortium getting wind of the Verillian’s problems. Farrak seemed pretty hostile towards Wittle in the end. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were also the reason Farrak found himself on Risa, to begin with. Gaila said Farrak had an occasional wandering eye for pretty faces of the male persuasion. You do the math.” Quark grunted.

 

“Mm. You’re saying that Wittle lured Farrak to Risa specifically so he could set him up to fail and earn favor in the process with Val Hagath.” Garak mused.

 

 “I’m saying that it seems awfully coincidental that Wittle was with Farrak when he arrived to meet with Hagath. If you want my opinion, I think they were traveling together. It all makes sense if it’s true that Conrad happened to be on Risa with him.” Quark said with a tinge of exasperation.

 

“Yes. I see.” Garak agreed. “It would certainly explain how he was so easily able to swing the Verillian's back into Hagath’s hands after Farrak blundered his job so badly.”

 

“Right. Anyway, that’s all I know and all I’m saying about the business.” Quark said in a conspiratorial fashion before he was called away a short time later, much to Garak’s convenience. 

 

There casual conversation between scoundrels was just the lead Garak was looking for.

 

After that, it wasn’t hard to track down other relevant information.

 

After some prodding among his backchannels, it seemed Conrad Wittle had been on Risa the same time as Farrak and all indications supported the probability that they had traveled back to Hagath’s together when they departed. How interesting. 

 

Conrad Wittle though characterized as impulsive seemed to be quite capable of playing a long game with his targets.

 

After contacting an old acquaintance of the Consortium whom he knew by way of some past dealings between them and the Obsidian Order, Garak was also able to confirm that it had indeed been Wittle who had turned the Consortium on to the Varillian’s situation before Farrak could follow through with initiating his intended contact and negotiations. In light of this information, Garak found himself very interested to know how it came about that the Consortium ultimately lost the Verillians to Val Hagath. He was also keen to know what they might say if Garak were to innocently reveal to them that Conrad Wittle was presently on Hagath’s payroll as a PR consultant, seeing as the arms dealer was one of their direct competitors.

 

One thing Garak was fast learning was that Conrad Wittle had a certain talent for misdirection. It was also true that he almost exclusively dealt in nonlethal conflict resolution. So why was it that he had deviated by convincing the Varillians to abandon the Consortium and return to Hagath who almost exclusively dealt in lethal deterrents? 

 

To answer some of these questions Garak decided to go to the best source for further information on Wittle’s motivations and character.

 

~@~

 

For once, instead of meeting up for a meal at Quark’s or in his shop Elim Garak decided it was best to have a chat with Julian in Julian’s quarters. With all the attention on the station centered around him, Julian was keeping a low profile so when Garak proposed they have one of their usual meetings in the privacy of Julian’s abode, Julian had agreed, and they made plans for Garak to come calling that afternoon.

 

“I must say, Doctor Bashir. As of late, you continue to surprise me.” Garak rattled off later while settled at Julian’s kitchen table. “Here I’ve believed all this time that you were a somewhat naive young prodigy looking to sow your wild seeds out on the frontier and now I come to find out you once called a man like Conrad Wittle your friend.”

 

“Conrad and I were never friends, Garak. And my former association with him is nothing to be impressed by.” Julian muttered into his teacup.

 

“If you say so, Doctor, but nevertheless I am very much surprised. Can I ask you a personal question? Did you ever suspect Conrad Wittle was capable of the treachery he pulled during your school days?” Garak asked with his typical disarming sing-song bluntness.

 

“No,” Julian admitted quietly. “No one saw any of it coming. Not his friends or his family. Conrad made a point of getting people to like him without having to get overly personal with them. I rarely saw him criticize anyone, explicitly condemn anything, or complain. If he lost a game or an argument he made his opponents feel like he was only engaging for the sake of it. He liked to encourage people. When he decided to align with something he did it completely. It’s how he developed a reputation for always doing the things he said he would do.”

 

“Mm. It seems you became close to him. Why else would you agree to engage him now after all these years and so much betrayal.” Garak pointed out.

 

“Yes. We became close. Looking back, I’m certain it only came about because Conrad wanted it that way. When he wanted something from someone Conrad was a hard man to avoid and refuse. He was appreciative and very good at honing in and exploiting people's personal interests. Racquetball was the commonality between us at first. Conrad was a good racquetball player but he rarely technically applied himself. He was more of a showman who adapted to his opponents. If winning was important to them it suddenly became important to Conrad too. If a player was technically better than him and he lost he would talk them up after and ask for their opinion and recommendations. With all that said, I admit it was hard, even in passing, not to like him in those days.” Julian explained.

 

“He certainly sounds disarmingly charming. But...An argument could be made that anyone can do what he did and win acclaim and people’s respect. I can hardly imagine he was always so perfect.” Garak baited.

 

“No. Conrad Wittle isn’t a perfect man. At the beginning and end of it, his impulses rule supreme. While he is commonly capable of great magnanimity, his black impulses to do harm are just as powerful. These negative impulses may seem random, but they’re not. For all his abilities he’s got a glass jaw when it comes to criticism. He can't tolerate being called out on his mistakes because he prefers to believe he is incapable of making them. He is not a man to be bridled by any means and he will do everything in his power to save face when faced with evidence of his own fallibility. He’s consumed by a constant drive to improve upon himself. That was his initial appeal. I never saw someone work as hard as he did to eclipse himself. Sometimes...Sometimes it was brilliantly beautiful, but the rest of the time it was excruciating to watch and clean up after.” Julian said the last part softly.

 

If there had been any doubt about the true nature of Julian’s relationship to Wittle, Garak saw the truth of it now. Julian and Conrad had been life partners and from what he could see, of the two of them, Julian had at least genuinely loved Wittle even if Conrad had been limited in his ability to love Julian back. 

 

Personally, Garak didn’t believe all sociopaths of all species were incapable of some version of loving feeling. Although, humans at least seemed to struggle with such extreme duality in particular. Or perhaps, Garak simply took offense to the idea because his own darkness did not exclude the ability to love others. 

 

 Garak conceded to himself that at the very least, Conrad Wittle had possibly for a time become dependent on Julian’s love for him like some people were dependent on a euphoric drug. He could very well understand how challenging it might have been for Wittle to do without Julian’s presence he also saw plainly the dangers of cutting a man like Wittle off abruptly from what he felt attached to. Triggering emotional reactions in socio and psychopaths was potentially a lethal hazard of associating with them. 

 

This was the kind of insight Garak wanted. Now that he had a better idea of Wittle’s vices, it would be easier to trace their design. Wittle was indeed fixated on Julian. Gaven had been right to be so disturbed. It was possible that by running into him seemingly at random, certain impulses had been ignited in Conrad that he could not rationally ignore. 

 

There was a trick hidden here. 

 

It was very probable that Conrad Wittle had every intention of destroying Julian, but Garak’s experience told him also that even for someone as depraved as Wittle, he would not be able to bear a direct assault. No. He would leave it to chance. Like someone spinning the barrel of a loaded gun at random with only a single bullet. Killing Julian Bashir outright wasn’t what Wittle was really after. Rather, he was looking to publicly dismantle Julian’s life and thus equalize them somehow so that he could convince himself that he and Julian were one and the same.

 

“Well, I suppose you’re just going to have to thrash him, Julian,” Garak said at last in a sing-song tone that broke the somber mood between them as they continued to take tea.

 

“If I were you Garak I wouldn’t bother putting down bets.” Julian dismissively muttered.

 

“What? Not confident? Come now, doctor. Have a little faith in yourself and everyone else for that matter.” Garak teased. “Conrad Wittle needs to be put in his place and I think your just the right, no, the only person who might be able to do it.”

 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Julian dryly said.

 

“Well, at least you’ll have some friends there to support you. I understand Doctor Ore is going to be there acting as the presiding medical official for the event.” Garak remarked.

 

Julian sighed. “Yes. Since everyone else directly affiliated with Starfleet has been told to beg off, it was agreed that Gaven was a suitable exception given he’s not technically a Starfleet officer.”

 

“Mm. I suppose that means the two of you haven’t been able to speak to each other as of late. Has his Vulcan friend come back yet?” Garak asked innocently.

 

“Yes. Jyrrus has but Keiko was delayed. She should be back in the next few days though. Why?” Julian didn’t see why Garak would want to know such a thing.

 

“Besides you, the young ambassador is the only other person I ever see Doctor Ore spend his time with any regularity. It must be very lonely for him sometimes.” Garak baited.

 

“I’m sure it was for him. In the beginning. He’s something of an exile from his Homeworld.” Julian remarked.

 

“So I’ve gathered. I was most honored when he finally decided to come around to see me for some new clothes. Quark told me his most recent debut was quite something to see. I feel sorry to have missed it.” Garak fished.

 

“You should feel sorry. It was something to see. Everyone thought so.” Julian conceded.

 

“You were there I take it? Tell me everything.” Garak insisted.

 

“The room stopped.” Julian proclaimed. “Gaven is known by most people here on the station by his reputation here as a medical professional, but that night was different. He was different. It was like seeing him for the first time. He was glorious.”

 

At this Garak smiled with deep satisfaction into his teacup.

 

“He’s a very precarious kind of man, I think,” Garak observed. “Designing for him required a certain delicate touch.”

 

“Precarious?” Julian wrinkled his nose at such a word choice.

 

“I can tell you from personal experience that doing what he’s been doing is no easy feat. Doctor Ore strikes me as a man who is used to knowing his exact place and purpose in the universe. Now that he’s found himself cast into the void it’s understandable that the experience would be terrorizing for him. Although I have not had the pleasure to know him well compared to some, I know enough to very much hope that he eventually leaves this station so that he can find himself again.” Garak earnestly said.

 

“Leave? That’s a little extreme, isn’t it? I agree that I think Gaven needs to get away for a while and live a little but he’s developed connections here. People he cares about who cares about him in return. If he leaves permanently, he will lose all of that all over again.” Julian reasoned, unable to keep the subtle defensiveness out of his tone.

 

“Mm. Although many people do consider this station their home it’s not really built to be a place someone really lives in. Doctor Ore is not a space traveler by choice, nor do I suspect it is an environment that is particularly good for him. You’re dealing with a man who has been stripped of his identity, his culture, and his sense of purpose. All I’m saying is that it would be perhaps better for him to settle down somewhere less...How shall I say? Adversarial?” Garak offered.

 

“There’s always Bajor, I suppose. That’s relatively close and as of yet Bajor isn’t a member of the Federation of Planets so if Gaven wanted to avoid any more dealings with Starfleet it would be easier there. I suspect it would be somewhat ecologically similar to what he’s used too as well.” Julian offered in a near grumble.

 

“True. There’s also Vulcan. Unlike Bajor, he’s got at least one good friend there.” Garak was quick to point out.

 

“Gaven’s been to Vulcan before. They were his first contact species and I understand he spent an extended amount of time with a Vulcan crew and then on their homeworld after he was pulled from space. Vulcan is a Federation Planet though and quite a way off from here.” Julian mused unhappily.

 

“Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. Vulcan’s are on the whole a very ordered and sensitive species, I could see him quite happy there given his own dogmatic and, at times, fragile temperament.” Garak couldn’t help but intentionally push Julian’s buttons now that he knew for certain the doctors were so entwined with each other.

 

“Garak, Gaven isn’t as fragile as you think. He…” Julian began to protest.

 

“On the contrary, my dear Doctor, I must disagree with you. Doctor Ore may indeed be a very resilient person, but that resilience is a manifestation of his sense of survival. His defiant resilience to trauma and oppression thus far is a secondary reaction and not a primary emotional mode of his. I think anyone should be wary of pressing too hard upon him.” Garak warned him.

 

“Gaven knows what he wants for himself. I trust him to be able to look out for his own best interests. Vulcan isn’t the only place in the universe he has any friends.” Julian muttered reproachfully.

 

“On that much, I think we can agree.” Garak conceded.

 

Garak did agree with Julian that deep down Gaven knew exactly what he wanted, Garak just wasn’t all that convinced that Julian had any notion what those wants really entailed. Julian didn’t realize it, but the more he tried to steal Gaven for himself the more likely it was that he was going to ultimately drive him away. Garak supposed that even if the men could usher up the courage to reveal themselves to each other, the outcome would still be the same.

 

Deep Space Nine was not were Gaven Ore was destined to belong. It was merely a stepping block along the course of a much greater destiny. The bigger question to consider was whether Julian Bashir would always find Deep Space Nine to be the root of his own Destiny or if, instead, there wasn’t something more waiting out there for him as well.

 

Chapter 41: Keeping Score

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-One: Keeping Score

 

On the morning of the tournament Gaven met with Odo to prepare for the pre-tournament screening requirements. 

 

“The opponents have agreed to avoid anything that could alter their body chemistry, that includes both stimulants and depressants. Both parties have been instructed to refrain from eating prior to the match and meals in between will be provided. A full standard physical is expected. Outside of that, Doctor you’re pretty much free to sit back and watch.” Odo rattled as he let Gaven looked over the liability agreements and permissions.

 

For once, Gaven didn’t try to hide the black mood he’d woken up with that morning as he sat with Odo in Gaven’s office looking over everything.

 

“I see. They really are worried. Aren’t they?” Gaven muttered.

 

They, Doctor?” Odo asked.

 

Take your pick of who I mean. I understand just about half the station has some kind of personal stake in this... Event.” Gaven’s upper lip twitched uncharacteristically as if he was resisting a sneer. “You know. Julian Bashir still isn’t fully recovered from his assault as far as I’m concerned. Is that not an understood factor or is it that no one actually cares about that?” 

 

Odo narrowed his eyes in mild bewilderment as he quickly took in this more acidic side of the alien doctor that he couldn’t recall ever seeing before.

 

“Gaven,” Odo asked as he slowly stood and shut the office door. “This tone your sporting isn’t like you. Is there something you want to talk about?”

 

Gaven gave a short, frustrated sigh.

 

“Let me ask you something, Mr. Odo. Let us say, for the sake of argument, that I don’t medically approve of Julian competing in this tournament? What if I were to say, his augment status aside, that if Julian has been deemed still unfit for service then that also means he is then unfit both physically and psychologically to compete in this event.” Gaven explained.

 

“Is that true? Do you believe Doctor Bashir is unfit to carry out this activity?” Odo inquired.

 

Gaven pulled his eyes away from the datapad he had been reading and looked directly into Odo’s eyes. 

 

First. Would my medical opinion be honored if I were to prove my beliefs justified?” Gaven firmly asked. 

 

“If you could justify it, then, yes.” Odo said without hesitation. 

 

“Are you sure about that?” Gaven, challenged.

 

 Odo was about to form a response, but before he could Gaven put up his hand and silenced him.

 

“I have no justifiable reason to believe Doctor Bashir is unfit to fulfill the fair expectations of him during this sporting event. As such, I, of course, will comply with the request for all the players medical work ups as requested. I predict that there will be no anomalies in the process.” Gaven muttered stoically.

 

“Gaven.” Odo began reproachfully. “If you object to the responsibility of overseeing the medical side of this tournament, I need you to speak up about it.” 

 

“No, Constable. I have no objections that rationally justify my distaste for this situation, nor do I really believe my opinion matters in this strange business. Frankly, I’m quite surprised I was asked to participate at all. There is obviously a necessity behind all of this that I am not able to be enlightened about. But if you want to know how I feel then I will tell you plainly. Knowing I’m being left in the dark about all of whatever this is, hurts my feelings. It confuses me and it makes me feel unsafe on this station.” Gaven confessed. 

 

“I’m sorry. I am truly sorry we’ve made you feel this way.” Odo said evenly. 

 

“Fine. Do me a favor if you would and tell the Captain and the others, I said that, once you leave to have your secret briefing with them over whatever part you’re all planning to play in this thing without me. As for Doctor Bashir and Mr. Conrad Wittle, they are to report to the infirmary three hours before the start of the event and they are then to be ushered directly and separately to the tournament after. I will meet you courtside and remain on direct standby should a medical emergency occur. Now if you’ll excuse me, Constable. I have regular work to do.”

 

Gaven was dismissing him with force, Odo realized. 

 

Huffing once Odo uncrossed his arms and began to turn towards the door but stopped just short of reaching for the handle to glance back at Gaven who was pensively staring without reading at the datapad in front of him. A frown was cemented onto his features.

 

“Just so you know, Doctor. Your feelings about this situation are justified. When everything is done and over with, I think it only right and good that you do what you think you must in order to make your feelings clear. All your feelings. If you want to talk in the future, you know where to find me.” Odo offered and then slipped from the room.

 

~@~

 

“Doctor Ore knows that this tournament is more than it seems, and he appears angry about it.” Odo declared as he sat unhappily in the Captain's secure conference room. “Perhaps it really was a mistake to exclude him.”

 

“He knows? What do you mean, he knows? What exactly did he say to you?” Kira demanded from across the table.

 

“I’m more interested in the fact that he’s openly angry about it.” Dax chirped.

 

“First, he hypothetically asked what would happen if Doctor Bashir was determined to be unfit to compete. He also seemed to be under the impression that his medical opinion didn’t actually matter. Then…” Odo hesitated. “He went on to tell me how he resented being excluded from whatever was really going on and that he didn’t understand why. Despite this, he agreed to go on and predicted that there wouldn’t be any impediments to the tournament or of his duties in the business.”

 

“Boy does that sound editorialized,” Dax muttered out of the side of her mouth.

 

You said that he seemed upset?” Kira was trying to picture Gaven angry and couldn’t muster a visual.

 

“Yes. Though not nearly as upset as he could be if this thing goes badly.” Odo said wearily. “He didn’t ask what we were planning or why but it’s clear he knows this is some grand farce and he has...Hurt feelings about it.” 

 

“He actually told you that? Wow.” Dax said.

 

“The plan doesn’t change. Remember I chose to keep Doctor Ore out of the intricacies of this mission for his own safety. If he’s got a problem with that then he can take it up with me once this is all over.” Benjamin interjected. “Where are we at people?”

 

“Given our reconnaissance information we don’t expect real trouble until the second day. Most of the bets placed were placed on the outcome and not the results of the individual matches to be played.” Odo explained.

 

“I’ve had Rom run me through all the advanced security measures that have been put in place. If anything does go down it’s going to be hard for anyone to flee. Our bigger problem will be if something does happen and people find that they can’t escape. There’ll likely be a bloody riot.” Miles explained.

 

“We’re not going to let it come to that.” Sisko insisted.

 

“Quark made good on the guest dossiers There are definitely going to be some shady characters in attendance, but no one stands out as specifically high risk with the exception of Val Hagath and his entourage.” Kira pointed out.

 

“Val Hagath and his people have their own fish to fry. We can deal with him later. Between Quark, Leeta, and Odo openly on the floor of the event and myself, Kira, and Chief O'Brien planted among the crowd incognito; we’re going to have about as much ground coverage as we can get without tipping our hand. Dax and Worf will be monitoring our backup measures. Whatever happens once this starts...Stay alert. And remember that our goals here are containment and detainment.”

 

~@~

 

Later, under the watchful supervision of Odo, Gaven followed through with the physicals though with far less bedside manner than he was known for. Wittle seemed unfazed by Gaven’s stern short commands and probing questions about his recent habits and dutifully obeyed every aspect of the physical without comment. It was towards the end that Conrad found himself raising a brow in slight speculation when Gaven, in an unorthodox move, ran one thumb and pointer from the base of Conrad’s skull to the base of his back. The sweeping touch was too firm to be a come-on but not firm enough to be an act of hostility and a few minutes later when Gaven meticulously went through all the same motions with Julian using the same clipy tone and end maneuver, Conrad dismissed the action entirely.

 

“Doctor Ore, you're pressing a little hard,” Julian growled as a buzzy feeling hit him behind the bridge of Julian’s nose. Gaven was clearly linking with him but this time there was something else in it. Something that went more than one way. “Gaven, easy please.”

 

“Oh. I’m sorry, Doctor Bashir. I forgot how sensitive you are sometimes.” Gaven irritably muttered in an ironic tone before pulling his hand away.

 

Conrad overheard this remark and smiled broadly at the opportunity to interject. “Juli here was always a light touch. There’s a spot just here on the hollow of his throat  that…”

 

Conrad began to point out a spot on his own throat to Gaven, delighting in the look of pure distaste on Gaven’s face coupled with a look of audacity on Julian’s.

 

“No talking gentlemen.” Odo abruptly reminded them.  “Move along. The officers ahead will escort you to your places.”

 

Once they were separated and, on their way, Odo turned to Gaven. “He’s a slimy piece of work, that one. Your abject dislike of him is shared. Are you going to be alright watching those two make fools of themselves for two whole days?”

 

“You say that as if there is a choice in the matter, Constable,” Gaven muttered, before turning and walking away.

 

~@~

 

The first day of the tournament was intense in terms of play, but uneventful in every other way. As predicted by many the game play was conducted at a much higher rate of speed and agility than it might have been if the players were not who the players were. The agreement was that Conrad and Julian would play out two sets of three games and if they tied the tournament would be extended an extra day with a final set of six as tiebreaker with each game consisting of a goal of fifteen-points. This made a total of six games assuming they tied. If they did not the player with higher points would win and the second day of the tournament would be dismissed. The court walls were made up of a forcefield allowing the court to be clearly visible from all sides.

 

Where an average two game set took maybe forty minutes to an hour at most, Julian and Conrad’s play was unusual and by the time the first set of six was up, more than two thirds of the day had passed. Julian had through a stunning show of acute agility and flawless form had come out the victor of their first three games. Afterwards a three-hour recess was called for the men to relax and revitalize.

 

Through it all, everything was playing out as if it were just a high profile though standard tournament but, numerous people were on high alert as the hidden officers in the crowd slowly circulated looking and listening for any sign of potential trouble.

 

Though the crowd was quite happily surprised by the ferociousness they were witnessing, Quark and his people kept tight control over the platforms as Leeta used her charms to eavesdrop and gauge more subtle tensions among those assembled. For Quark’s part he kept the food and liquor circulating. If folks were eating, they couldn’t mouth off and Quark out of habit didn’t trust folks who didn’t drink. 

 

In between games, Julian would occasionally take in the crowd as he tried to catch a glimpse of Gaven who for some reason kept changing his position in the space while he looked just about everywhere other than the area of play.

 

What the bloody hell was wrong with Gaven that day?

 

Julian had never seen the other doctor so publicly out of sorts and he certainly had never seen him legitimately cross before. His apparent distress worried Julian. But he didn’t dare allow himself to be distracted from the task at hand. 

 

As for his opponent, Conrad Wittle was indeed everything Julian remembered and more. On the playing field he had an amazing ability to match Julian’s energy if not his hitting power and though Conrad’s style was more chaotic, unpredictable and less technically refined; but he was still extravagant to behold. He was also not an augment.

 

Julian could sense that much of the crowd was more responsive to Wittle as a result. He played the first half of their games with focused grace. No doubt unconcerned that Julian had a significant lead on him. Wittle was reserving his energy, however. Banking on the strategy of tiring Julian out and making a comeback in the second half.

 

It was not an unwise strategy.

 

As Gaven watched the event he could sense certain favoritism towards Conrad among the crowd. The difference though between he and Julian’s perspective was that Gaven was closer to the sidelines and this gave him the distinction of not just registering the crowd’s anti-augment jeers but hearing the subtext of their commentary. Much of what he heard revolved around Julian’s augment status and the amount of advantage it did or did not give him. There were a great many other remarks among the crowd that were even less flattering about Julian. But what was most disturbing to Gaven was that he hardly heard a single commentator refer to Julian by name. Rather, he was just the damned augment, the sub-human, and the freak. Hearing these subtle attacks and discriminatory prejudices was what agitated Gaven the most while he desperately scanned face after face in the crowd and stalked the sidelines. Committing as much information as he could to memory. 

 

Now and again Gaven thought he saw one of the stations' officers, incognito. It was both reassuring and further distressing to realize they were all there in secret looking out for Julian and undoubtedly looking for a reason to move against Wittle.

 

“Damn Quark for billing this thing the way he did.” Gaven cursed and muttered under his breath.

 

In another time and place, Julian had told him how much discrimination was lobbed even in the present century against augmented humans. Hadn’t he been in hiding all these years to evade negative assumptions and speculation about the man he was? 

 

Why was Julian putting himself through all of this?

 

Gaven knew he needed to conference with Garak. But he was stuck where he was until the first day of the tournament was over. 

 

As the heated games wore on, it was not surprising that Julian and Wittle were keeping a tight pace with each other. Predictably the matches of the day resulted in a tie guaranteeing that everyone would have to reconvene on the second day to see the outcome. The scores were eventually announced and Odo, who was acting as an ever-diligent referee for the event, eventually dismissed the players to their respective corners. 

 

Wanting desperately to talk to Julian but knowing he couldn’t, was straining Gaven’s tolerance about as far as it was going to go.

 

 So, it was a relief when the day was finally called, and people started to disperse as Quark personally invited the crowd to come back in half an hour for bar open.

 

Julian and Conrad ignored each other once the final score for the day was called and Odo soon had them being ushered to guarded quarters on opposite ends of the station to cool down and have their supervised dinners. 

 

For Gaven’s part, he was permitted to move as he liked and almost immediately disappeared presumably heading back to his quarters as quickly as possible.

 

He only disappeared into the promenade hoping to find Garak without appearing like he was looking for him. As it got later, the promenade began to thin out and Gaven began to begrudgingly contemplate going back to his quarters. However, as he walked down one of the corridors of the habitation ring, a hand reached out from a joining hallway from the direction of the transport area.

 

“Gaven, It’s me.” Garak quickly said to avoid startling him.

 

“Garak. Have you been off the station?” Gaven observed.

 

“Mmhm. I needed to borrow something. Come. Walk me home. We’ve not a moment to waste.” Garak hooked Gaven’s arm in his own and ushered him back the way he had come. A Large traveling satchel was hanging over his shoulder.

 

Several minutes later Garak set Gaven into his spacious living quarters and carefully secured the doors. It was obvious that Garak took meticulous and extraordinary measures to ensure his personal security as the lock mechanism was unique and nothing like what he’d seen before.

 

“Well? Don't keep me in suspense? How did it go? Is everyone still alive? I must say you certainly look like the devil himself, all of a sudden.” Garak fussed, touching the edge of Gaven’s jaw to subtly move his face from side to side.

 

Gaven allowed this but sighed heavily. “Everyone’s alive so far. The matches today came out in a tie as I have no doubt EVERYONE predicted. Wittle seems to have a great deal of support. Everyone seems to be rooting for the natural human.”

 

A disgusted expression came over Gaven’s features as he pulled away from Garak.

 

“I see.” Garak warbled in a concerning manner. “We may have to move very quickly, Doctor. I think Julian’s bit off far more than he realizes this time.”

 

Gaven growled in frustration and sank down onto a nearby ottoman cupping his face in his hand. “What do I do? I feel utterly powerless.”

 

“First of all, you are not powerless. Secondly, I’ve brought something that might help us see things a bit more clearly.” Garak triumphantly said.

 

“What?” Gaven pulled his hands away letting them fall between his knees and looked up at Garak.

 

“Now before I show you, understand that this is pure contraband equipment. Never mind where it came from or how I happened to acquire it.” Garak cautioned him.

 

Gaven waved at Garak dismissively not giving a damn, much to the Cardassian's approval. 

 

Garak slipped his satchel off and carried it over to the large nearby table. When he opened it, he removed a mechanical box of some kind with a holographic projector element. Connected to it by delicate wires was what appeared to be attachable sensors around a skull cap. 

 

“I know that you don’t feel like you have the right experiences in dealing with the finer points of espionage and subterfuge, I also happen to believe you to be quite naturally talented in things particularly pertinent to the situation we find ourselves in. This is a holo-optic transmitter. It can take optic information and other stored aspects of a subject’s memory then create an external holo projection of the information for more detailed and objective analysis.” Garak explained. “What experience you may lack at deciphering what you see, I hope to be able to rectify for you. Shall we see what we can see?”

 

“You want me to let you wire me into that thing so that you can see what I saw all day?” Gaven skeptically asked.

 

“That’s right, Doctor. You do have a rather unique eidetic memory, do you not?” Garak reasoned.

 

“Yes, but…” Gaven slowly conceded.

 

 “If you want me to be able to help you this is the way it has to be done. Now come along.” Garak insisted like a stern parent.

 

“You know how to use that thing, right?” Gaven skeptically inquired as he slowly complied with Garak’s wishes.

 

“Yes. Now come over here and sit down. There we go. This will only take a few seconds.” Garak went about setting up the equipment and connecting Gaven to it. 

 

“What now?” Gaven asked.

 

“When I turn on the machine, I want you to playback the events of the day from start to finish. It should only take a few minutes to get what I need. You may feel a slight amount of discomfort, but it should be minimal.” Garak explained.

 

“Fine. Please, proceed.” Gaven said.

 

Garak took the cue and flicked on the device and a whirring sound began to emit from the rectangular box. 

 

Gaven closed his eyes and began to relax as he began to access the day's events using his perfect recall. The box on the table blipped a few times and changed its tone. As Gaven rapidly flashed through the events of his day a mild burning sensation began to nag at him in the middle of his forehead. At first, it was barely noticeable but after several minutes the sensation became increasingly worse and began to spread into Gaven’s face.

 

“Garak, I think…” Gaven began but was abruptly cut off.

 

“Keep with it Doctor, it’s almost done. Just a few seconds more…” Garak pressed as he stared at the side of the box reading the adjuster.

 

Garak! ” Gaven protested, just as the burning sensation was starting to become blindingly painful causing Gaven to slam his palm flat into the table.

 

“There. Good!  We’re done.” Garak said at last, as he pressed something on the projector and a small data disk emerged.

 

Gaven quickly tore the sensors from his head as his eyes shot open to stare bewildered at Garak.

 

“Sorry, Doctor. Most people don’t hold out as long as you did.” Garak said apologetically. “My compliments in regard to your endurance.”

 

It was at this moment that Gaven realized Garak had conveniently left out that the holo-optic transmitter was actually a kind of torture device used to compel and capture optic information via pain induction.

 

Gaven glared at him disapprovingly. “Sometimes, Mr. Garak. I think you enjoy your work a little too much.”

 

“I do take my thrills as I find them, Doctor. Only for nostalgic purposes, of course. Speaking of thrills, why don’t you stay here tonight.” There was a quiver of concern in Garak’s tone as he laid his hand on Gaven’s shoulder while Gaven slowly rubbed at his face trying to press away the dull throbbing headache he was now sporting.

 

“You can sleep out here on the settee.” Garak offered.

 

To Garak’s private delight, Gaven nodded in agreement slowly. “I certainly don’t want to go back to my cell tonight.”

 

A wave of acute sympathy washed over Garak as he palmed the data disk and observed Gaven. In some ways, the men were in similar situations. Both were in exile being forced to live a double life in a manner and place that was not in alignment with their personal preferences and natures.

 

“I can imagine this is all getting very tiring for you. You must have lived a very sheltered kind of existence on your home planet with little exposure to grandiose conflict.” Garak speculated.

 

“Comparatively to what my life is like now? Yes.” Gaven agreed.

 

“You were a servant of some kind, I expect. You’re used to knowing what is expected of you and what you can freely offer. In my experience, when that sort of life is all you know it seems logical to continue to try and bend yourself backward around the greater forces pressing on your life once you find yourself displaced. But, if I may offer you a bit of unsolicited advice, I might suggest in earnest that it’s time now Gaven to stop bending.” Garak advised him.

 

For a while longer Garak and Gaven sat up together quietly talking. Garak made sure Gaven ate and took something for his headache before eventually helping him set up the settee to his liking to sleep. The more Elim saw of the doctor, the more he liked him and enjoyed his company and the more certain he was that Gaven was at critical risk of being swept away by things that were not his responsibility.

 

Garak sat up awhile more with Gaven as their conversation naturally died off and Gaven became more settled laying on his side as his mind drifted to other places. It occurred to Elim watching this behavior that Gaven wasn’t used to being alone in his former life and didn’t prefer it. It was probable that in his former life on his homeworld he almost never had been much alone. Servants tended to be housed together or very close to those they served. He could also see why Julian found Gaven so attractive and why the men were struggling so much to get on the same page with each other. Gaven was someone who needed to be taken in hand. Dancing around what Julian wanted from him wasn’t going to get the other doctor where he wanted to go and Garak knew exactly where Julian was trying to get to.

 

What a temptation. Elim thought privately to himself. It wouldn’t take much to possess you, Doctor. It wouldn’t take much at all.

 

When he saw that Gaven had finally drifted to sleep, Garak sighed and put his tea aside before he approached the settee and fussed in a plucky manner with the comforter that he’d lent to Gaven. Bring it more fully over his shoulders. On a whim, Garak also subtly pushed the dark curls away from Gaven’s eyes and then stepped back from him.

 

Garak was now more determined than ever to handle this business with Wittle personally. While he didn’t doubt that the officers of the station were organizing their own coup against Wittle, Garak understood that the chances of them actually being able to get anything to stick to the slippery man were slim without a little unsolicited help. 

 

Disappearing to his private chambers, Garak popped the data disk into his desk console intending to spend the next several hours looking for clues as to what was going to unfold. He eventually found exactly what he was looking for and after he did Garak began putting a complex plan into motion that would hopefully resolve the issue to everyone’s satisfaction.

 

Chapter 42: Game and Match

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Two: Game and Match

 

When Gaven awoke early the next morning he found Garak was gone again. A considerate note had been left behind on the coffee table next to a simple cold breakfast, promising that Garak would be back in time for the final matches and that Gaven should go about his day as planned. Included was also a notation about how to leave Garak’s quarters. 

 

Gaven read through all of this and then on a whim set the note gently aflame using the burning tea candle that had been lit at the center of the coffee table for ambiance during his breakfast. Gaven may not have been a spy but he was fast picking up enough sense from some of his friends to err on the side of caution. 

 

Eventually, Gaven returned to his own quarters to shower, change, and head into the infirmary to repeat the physicals of the day before. Although he was still more stoic than usual, at least much of the edge had been worn down. As before, both men were cleared to go on and were escorted from the infirmary.

 

Once they were gone Remi appeared out of his office and came to stand next to Gaven.

 

“Well?” Jeremiah inquired.

 

“Julian’s tired today. He’s not used to this kind of repeated strenuous activity and he didn’t recover overnight as well as he should have. Wittle, on the other hand, seems in optimal condition and I’d wager he knows it. Julian could lose this thing.” Gaven speculated.

 

“I see. Losing might be the safest outcome in this case.” Remi observed. “If Wittle wins and does so honestly it’s just another feather in his cap and he goes on with his life.”

 

Gaven sighed. “He wants to win, but there has to be more to it than that. Why go to all this trouble and build up only for winning a simple game against an old partner?”

 

“You don’t think Wittle would throw the game on purpose to agitate violence, do you?”  Remi proposed.

 

“I don’t know. But anything could happen now.” Gaven said.

 

“Yes. Well, whatever does happen, try to remember that Julian’s contributed to this situation of his own free will. At this stage, he knows exactly the kind of man he’s dealing with. Don’t get involved more than you have to.” Jeremiah cautioned him.

 

~@~

 

There was markedly excitable energy in the competition space that day. Official betting through Quark had been closed that morning, but in private the exchanges were still going strong. Quark was eager to get the entire business over. Once it was, he could move forward with his own plans to stick it to Val Hagath and his cousin. He had it on good authority that the Regent was thoroughly enjoying himself which, Quark supposed, was a good thing for the moment. It would help keep the Regent off balance.

 

On Starfleet’s side, a few quiet arrests had happened in the night but nothing big had broken open much to everyone’s dismay and heightened attention.

 

Six games were planned, with the best of four deciding the outcome. On the rare chance, the games were equal, a final game was to be played. But no one really believed it was going to come to that. Unlike the first day, the games were more direct and shorter. If Julian and Conrad hadn’t been taking their play seriously enough before, both seemed more determined than ever to bring things to a point.

 

Julian took the first two games but only by a narrow margin. Conrad took the third making them two to one. The speed and intensity of play were fierce by humans’ standards and even some of the Klingon’s who were generally skeptical and often unfavorably critical of humans fell silent with their bawdy commentary to acutely follow the games. The ball was moving so fast that even with the protections there were required to where a direct hot to any part of the body might shatter bone on impact. When Conrad took one more game many in the crowd cheered. In response, Wittle made a small obliging show of thanking them before he took his position again.

 

By this point, even Gaven seemed more focused on the game though he did occasionally tear his eyes away in order to search the crowds and crannies for Garak who had promised to be there. The competitive tension was palpable.   

 

Now they were even.

 

Julian had been playing carefully and had been wisely reserving his strength up to this point. It was time to bring on the heat. In a sudden close exchange that Wittle clearly had to work very hard at keeping on top of Julian made a difficult close catching the ball acutely after it’s first bounce and sending it so hard into the wall that Conrad had to dive out of the way lest it take his head off.

 

So. Conrad thought. Now it’s getting personal. This is the Juli I’m here to see.

 

Grunting in satisfaction, Conrad nodded knowingly and chuckled to himself. From now on they were playing as the people they really were. Perfect.

 

Julian narrowed his eyes at Conrad. His concentration was now at its peak and even the greenest observer could see that the part of Julian that housed his advanced biochemical structuring along with the heightened physicality that came with it was now in full force right along with an equally honed intellect and just as sharp of an ego. Julian believed he was superior to Conrad and he was about to prove it.

 

Conrad saw the look in Julian’s eyes and for the briefest of seconds, he hesitated in his serve completing it less smoothly than he might have. Julian was on the ball like a devil and in rapid exchange, the men fought for possession of the point.

 

Elsewhere in the arena officers were starting to close ranks and somewhere else altogether Garak finally emerged from his innocuous position as he sought out a particular kind of face in the crowd. Eventually, he found what he was looking for. It was a couple of pug-faced aliens that very closely resembled a bulldog in feature with a shaggy humanoid body. Where one Goborian was, there were at least two others. Garak found the first two but couldn’t immediately locate the third which was proving troubling. Although the species wasn’t well known within the Federation, Garak knew they were a rather stupid and banal race that made their way in the universe by hiring themselves out as obedient and lumbering footsoldiers, enforcers, and ham-fisted assassins. 

 

On the upside, they were extremely loyal to those they contracted with and due to their muddy dull intellects where hard to entice information out of. Lucky for Garak, an this venture he had all the information he needed. Now there was just one more figure he was looking for but Garak had already set up an insurance plan to get ahold of that person of interest.

 

 Scanning the places in the space he knew would not be easily noticeable, Garak saw the faintest glint of something metallic up in a high distant part of the arena.

 

Bingo.

 

Back on the court, Conrad hit a pop ball as it bounced acutely but even at the awkward angle Julian was able to counter with razor precision. It was at this moment that the first anomaly happened. Conrad was struck with the ball at a cracking speed sideswiping him right across the face.

 

The entire crowd let out a collective gasp as Conrad dropped his racket and turned away cupping his face. Odo instantly sounded his whistle and halted the came and calling a penalty. Odo then came to assist Gaven who was already triaging the situation. The ball had caught Wittle hard across the edge of his mouth causing him to cut his inner lip on his teeth. Had the ball hit him straight on it would have shattered a large portion of his face in spite of the goggles and protective headgear he was wearing. Gaven opened his med bag and pulled out one of the instruments designed to disinfect and close the wound.

 

Shocked by the unintentional hit, Julian swiftly lowered his own racket and hurried towards them looking legitimately concerned despite who he was dealing with.

 

“You! Stay over there.” Gaven commanded as he saw Julian do this out of the corner of his eye. 

 

“And you. I presume you are still able to continue onward?” Gaven asked roughly as he tended to the bleeding man.

 

Wittle nodded silently.

 

“What’s the prognosis, Doctor?” Odo asked. 

 

I recommend a five-minute hold and then he’s clear to play.” Gaven muttered. 

 

Odo compiled calling a five-minute hold over as the men quickly went to the sidelines. Julian simply toweled off while Conrad swished some water and spit. Scowling at the raw stingy feeling on his lips he plucked a tube of pre-screened lip balm up and gingerly spread it along his gradually swelling mouth. As he did this Gaven stepped close to Odo.

 

“He stepped into that shot. Did you see it?” Gaven said evenly.

 

Yes. I did. That ball could have taken his face off.” Odo confirmed as he made very subtle eye contact with people in the crowd. 

 

“Something isn’t right here, Mr. Odo. I hope your people are properly prepared.” At this Gaven skulked away back to his spot.

 

In short order, Julian managed to even the score back out. The next point would determine the winner.

 

Garak in the meantime had been trying to figure out how to get to where he’d seen the glint. It was proving a harder task then he anticipated as he wove his way through the now standing crowd without drawing attention to himself. Just as the game was about to resume Garak found a bit of scaffolding leftover from Quark’s hasty renovation of the space. It wasn’t the easiest climb, but it did give one access to a closed-off balcony space that was rather far from the court but still within viewing distance. Annoyed that he was going to have to exert himself at his advancing age, Garak slipped among the scaffolding and made his stealthy climb while everyone else was looking at the court. A spy’s work was never really done.

 

Finally, the last ball was in play and neither men were holding back anymore. 

 

As this was going on Garak finally reached the outer part of the alcove and peeked around its edge. As was expected, there in the alcove was a rather clumsy-looking Goborian with an even clumsier type of Lazer-point projectile rifle. The weapon was several generations out of date, but its advantage was that as long as one aimed correctly it did a fair and soundless job. The fact that it shot a projectile instead of a laser blast meant more damage that would be harder to treat.

 

Garak smiled slyly to himself at this rare moment of intervention that was likened to his Obsidian days. Only in the past, he was usually the assassin and he almost always had much better more deadly and less traceable equipment. Banking on the Goborian’s legendary weak sense of smell due to their pushed-in faces, Garak was able to get a fair amount closer than he had any right to get. Not that he needed to be particularly close to do what he was about to do.

 

While he could have simply disarmed the character, what Garak had in mind was something of a teachable moment. Reaching into his pocket soundlessly the Cardassian removed what looked to be a most robust and shiny dog whistle of a moderately large size and at the last conceivable second unceremoniously blew it.

 

Even at their distance, this instantly and painfully startled all three if the Goborians causing the one closest to the sound to miss align his shot and fire before dropping the weapon and falling in agony to the balcony floor. At the same time as the shot was fired Quark and Rom were also screeching in agony as well as half the younger Klingons in the stands. Of all the reactions in the space Gaven’s was likely the most unusual since although the sound was not at a frequency his ears could register, the vibration of the sound did cause something acute in his unconscious senses to immediately pinpoint the probable direction of the disturbance.

 

. Once he did, he saw the alien, the rifle, and Garak looming behind him. He then saw Garak tilt his head and pluck up the rifle for himself kicking the Goborian away as he remorselessly took aim for himself intending to shoot Conrad Wittle dead.

 

That’s when Gaven reacted.

 

 Rushing onto the court Gaven went right at Wittle directly from the front and grabbed him before he acutely pivoted them both around so that Gaven was standing with his back facing the alcove as he tried to defensively protect Wittle from behind. A second later something went through Gaven at a downward arch just narrowly missing his lung before it exited and lodged itself inches to the side of Conrad Wittle spine near the middle of his back. Thanks to Gaven’s body the projectile hadn’t managed to go all the way through them both and not quite where it was intended.

 

Wittle hissed in pain as all Hell suddenly broke loose.

 

 Gaven wasn’t incapacitated by the wound but things certainly started to slow down around him as his consciousness tried to compensate for the shock. Gaven felt Wittle go gradually limp in his arms but he didn’t let go of him and only increased his hold immediately looking up as they sank to the ground together to find where Julian was.

 

To his horror, he saw Julian swiftly coming towards him.

 

“Julian, don’t you dare. You stay away from him and me. I have him and it’s fine. Watch your own skin!” Gaven barked as some disgruntled figures from the crowd came onto the court with several others forcing Julian to duck and deflect a blow that sent the assailant colliding with someone else more readily available to tussle with him.

 

Before an utter riot broke out, Captain Sisko jerked back the hood of his robe that was obscuring his face and in a booming voice that dominated the entire room ordered the whole space to, CEASE AND DESIST WHERE YOU’RE STANDING OR EVERYONE IS GOING TO BE TAKEN INTO CUSTODY! THIS SCENE IS NOW UNDER THE CONTROL OF THE OFFICERS OF DEEP SPACE NINE, UNDER REGULATION  3F OF THE FEDERATION RIOT CODE. DO NOT FUCK WITH ME.” 

 

Amazingly, just about everyone in the room froze as the fellow commanding officers made their armed presence known and even more security staff began cutting off the exits.

 

Garak observed this all with a most satisfied smile as he eventually pulled his eyes away from the calamity to look down at the Goborian cowering behind him on the ground.

 

“Stay.” He said firmly before wiping down the rifle, dropping it to the floor, and then kicking the rifle aside.

 

The Goborian began to growl low at Garak.

 

“Nuh.” Garak said in warning holding up the silvery whistle in a warning.

 

The Goborian whimpered and curled itself into a submissive fetal position.

 

“Better.” He muttered, before turning his attention back to the scene at hand.

 

While the Captain and the others worked to stabilize the crowd, Gaven eased Conrad down onto his side. 

 

“Don’t move or I’ll sedate you.” Gaven threatened as he began to triage the man’s wound ignoring his own in the process.

 

“Gaven you have to let me help you.” Julian insisted, from a few feet away.

 

“Yes. Do let him help you. He is a real doctor after all.” Conrad muttered in only partially feigned distress.

 

“It’s fine, Julian. Back off!” Gaven barked.

 

“Really, Juli. Wherever do you find these pet projects of yours?” Conrad muttered as shock began to set in.

 

“That’s it. I don’t care. I’m calling him a hostile patient and sedating him.” Gaven growled.

 

“Gaven, stop! You can’t do that.” Julian protested with all the old authority of their original dynamic.

 

“I wasn’t asking for your damned permission,” Gaven swore.

 

“No, Juli. Don’t let this alien imposter treat me this way. Do you have any ethical integrity left? My lord.” Conrad scolded mockingly.

 

“Gaven, back away from him.” Julian insisted cautiously.

 

Gaven scoffed and glared up at him. “Julian, right now you can frankly go to Hell. You’re out of uniform and not in charge here. I am.”

 

“I see. No chivalry among friends. Fine. I’ll do it myself; I suppose.” Conrad muttered in a light-headed fashion before he suddenly viciously turned on Gaven digging his thumb directly into Gaven’s wound and forcing him onto his back away from him. 

 

Julian scowled as he heard Gaven cry out and when Conrad scurried loosely to his feet and spun around to face Julian, on instinct and in defense of Gaven, Julian clocked Conrad Wittle in the face with a very hard hook. Conrad stumbled backward but instead of getting angry he lusciously groaned.

“Now you and I are talking. One for the road.” Before Julian could get another hit in, Conrad advanced upon the shorter man with lightning speed grabbing him by the face with both hands to lay a forced kiss upon his old partner’s mouth.

 

Seeing this, Gaven growled deep in his throat and using a maneuver he’d learned from his opening classes with Worf, gave a hard kick to the back of one of Conrad’s knees sending the man jackknifing to the ground.

 

Seemingly stunned, Julian backed away from them while Wittle and Gaven tussled on the ground. Eventually, Gaven was able to work himself on top of Wittle into a pinning hold.

 

“My.” Wittle observed, huffing. “For being so rough handed you are uniquely beautiful. I could look at you forever. I must admit I have a soft spot for dark and brooding men who enjoy having their way with me. It’s a curse.”

 

Gaven grit his teeth looking like he wanted to hit Wittle but refrained when a gasping sound caught his attention. Looking he saw Julian standing with his fingers laced around his throat as he made a kind a demure universal sign of choking. At the edges of his fingers Gaven could see the veins in Julian’s throat turning a deep blue and his lymph nodes began to swell.  

 

Alarmed Gaven looked from Julian to Wittle. “What did you do?”

 

“I’ll never tell.” Wittle teased. 

 

At this point, Julian was in alarming distress as he sank slowly to his knees.

 

Desperate, Gaven tried to think. “What do I...What did...How…”

 

Replaying the event in detail over his mind something struck Gaven and he immediately pressed his palm to Wittle’s forehead and linked. What he felt, proved his worse fear. There was a subtle change in his biochemistry. Whittle had dosed himself with something and infected Julian. “The kiss. Whatever you’ve poisoned him with it’s on your lips and it’s something you’ve built a tolerance for.”

 

“Very good. Point and game, doctor!” Wittle crooned.

 

“You maniac.” Thinking fast, Gaven formulated a plan. The only plan that could potentially work. 

 

The room nearly stopped a second time as people began to become aware of the struggle happening in the middle of the space. A struggle that was eclipsed by shock and confusion when Gaven, still pinning Wittle down, suddenly leaned down and kissed him hard square on the mouth with prolonged vigor. The second he finally pulled away to an equally stunned Conrad Wittle, Gaven felt a tickle in his own throat and for a second it seemed as if he was going to succumb to the same fate as Julian was.

 

 But seconds later Gaven’s bloodshot eyes shot open and he let out a deep breath of trapped air before clocking Conrad Wittle as hard as he could across the face effectively knocking the man out. Gaven then dove for his medical bag pulling out an instrument as he jammed it against his throat pulling a blood sample from himself before swiftly shoving the sample into another tool designed to do many things including separating antibodies in the blood. He then took the sample from there and loaded it into a hypo syringe as he crab-walked to Julian, supported his head and neck in his lap, and injected the anti-venom he’d just crafted from his own blood into the side of Julian’s swelling throat before pressing his hand to Julian’s forehead and linking with him.

 

“OK.” Gaven huffed. “It’s OK. I have you. I’m going to help your body regulate itself. Just try to relax and breathe.” 

 

“Doctor.” This time it was the Captain. Gaven felt him clamp supportively down on his good shoulder.

 

“It’s alright. It’s going to be all right now. Somebody get a gurney. Julian needs to be monitored. I…”

 

“Doctor. I need you. There’s a medical emergency elsewhere on the station. All available medical staff is to accompany me and my security team. We’re anticipating possible fatalities.” Odo interjected hastily.

 

“I have these two. Go.” Benjamin muttered as Kira appeared to take Gaven’s place. “Can you handle it, or do you need medical attention yourself?”

 

Gaven growled and stumbled to his feet collecting his medical bag. “Never mind what I can or cannot handle. I’m not anyone who matters here today. Let’s go.” 

 

Odo and Gaven headed for the nearest exit.

 

~@~

 

When things had gone bad, Quark had been one of the first people to successfully weasel out of the resulting chaos. Hagath, Gaila, and the Regent had also slunk away without any trouble. Hagath and the Regent, in particular, thought the whole farce the height of entertainment and a wonderfully convenient distraction as they settled down in preparation for the business transaction that they were all there to complete.

 

“Don’t look so unhappy. Leeta and Rom are moving the Dabo tables back into place as we speak. People are being cleared in droves. Everything will be back in place in plenty of time.” Quark said while in a full run down one of the abandoned corridors with his cousin fresh on his heels.

 

“They better be. I was winning. More importantly; the Regent is winning. He had excellent odds on that tournament of yours turning into a firing frenzy. And it did. We should be focusing on keeping him happy and eager to invest his winnings. What could be more important than that?” Gaila demanded.

 

“Easy,” Quark said coming to an abrupt stop and pulling his cousin aside excitedly. “I told you there’s someone I want you to meet.”

 

Wasting no time, Quark pressed the door mechanism they were standing in front of and enthusiastically pulled his cousin along with him as he bounded into the room.

 

“Gaila,” Quark began proudly. “Meet General Nassuc, head of the Palamarian Freedom Brigade.”

 

“Pleased to meet you.” Gaila muttered, bowing with Quark to their guest before leaning in sidelong to his cousin. “We need to talk.”

 

“Would you excuse us for just a moment?” Quark requested lightly while Gaila dragged him from the room.

 

“What is that female doing on the station?” Gaila asked before they were hardly out of earshot. 

 

“I invited her.” Quark said calmly as his cousin escorted him further down the hall.

 

“Are you crazy?” Gaila asked seriously. “She’s the Regent’s mortal enemy. Does he know she’s here? Does Hagath?”

 

“Of course not.” Quark indignantly assured him. 

 

“You are scaring me, cousin.” Gaila proclaimed.

 

“Relax.” Quark said smoothly putting his hands up. “I know selling weapons to opposing sides is dangerous. But as you said yourself…The riskier the road,”

 

Quark was promptly cut off. 

 

“Don’t quote the Rules of Acquisitions to me!” Gaila bellowed. “If Hagath finds out we’re doing this behind his back we’ll wind up as dead as Farrak!”

“Only if we fail,” Quark said with deep tranquility in the face of his cousin’s hysterics. “And we’re not going to fail. We’re going to sell Veraxian LM-7 to both the Regent and the General.”

 

“Is she interested?” Gaila pressed.

 

“Oh, she jumped at the chance,” Quark reassured him. ”She’s as crazy as the Regent. Both sides will poison each other. We’ll double our profits. And, Hagath...Will be very happy.”

 

“But what if they see one another?” Gaila inquired. “Realize what we’re doing?”

 

“If you haven’t noticed, it’s a busy station. Even with the crisis going down at the tournament people are already roaming the promenade like its yesterday’s news.  We’ll keep them far apart. Just think of all that latinum.” Quark was practically purring now.

 

After a few anxious seconds, Gaila’s Ferengi greed won out over his fear. The idiot.

 

“What do you want me to do?” Gaila finally asked, taking the bait hook, line, and sinker.

 

“Keep the general occupied for twenty minutes,” Quark explained. “Then take her to Cargo Bay Five. I’ll meet you there.”

 

At this, Quark and his cousin exchanged a Ferengi hand gesture of solidarity before Quark took off again.

 

A little later, Quark found himself in Cargo Bay five with the Regent and his men and a tense Hagath as he prepared to unlock the cargo mechanism to show off the product he didn’t have.

 

“That’s odd.” Quark muttered when the code didn’t seem to work on the lock.

 

“The code sequencer doesn’t’ seem to be working.” Quark mused when Hagath and the Regent inquired about the hang-up.

 

“Then fix it.” Hagath violently hissed. 

 

“Right away.” Quark said lightly backing up. “I just need to get a descrambler. And then, while I’m at it I’ll get a bottle of champagne--to celebrate.”

 

“Forget about the champagne. Just qet here as quickly as possible.” Hagath demanded with acidic impatience.  

 

“Whatever you say.” Quark muttered with hidden callousness as he swept away leaving an angry Hagath to brood over the private unpleasantness of his evening. 

 

For once Hagath was eager to get his business over with so that he could discover the fate of Conrad Wittle, his favorite lover and growing business partner.

 

As Quark scurried into the hall, he ran nearly headlong into Gaila and the General and her small entourage. “Sorry. I’ll be right back I just need to grab a descrambler.”

 

Quark politely bowed and was pleased when Gaila huffed at him and continued on his way.

 

What happened next was not Quark’s problem.

 

Quark hung around just long enough to hear Hagath and the Regent begin yelling before a series of shots sounded off in the Cargo Bay cueing Quark to run the opposite way.

 

Just as he cleared the promenade, Quark was in time to witness Odo and a slew of security people, and a battered and stoically unhappy-looking Gaven run past him headed to the Cargo bay as Odo called for additional backup. 

 

No one noticed Quark as he turned away from them and settled down on the edge of a nearby pole. It appeared all his problems were about to be over. Quark smiled indulgently to himself and crossed his legs exhaling one of the most satisfying breaths of his life.

 

Several hours later as the station finally started to calm down, Quark found himself sitting in the Captain’s office preparing to plead his case.

 

“You’re facing some serious charges here Quark--Incitement to Riot. Endangering the public’s safety. Disregarding…” Benjamin was promptly cut off.

 

“How was I supposed to know everyone was going to start shooting. If anyone should be upset here, for riots being incited, it should be me. What about that little coup that went down before my little oopsie. Mm? What? It’s OK for all of you to do it? But when I innocently find myself in a similar but separate situation, suddenly I’m a bad guy? I just wanted them to cross paths so that the deal would fall through.” Quark reasoned.

 

“It fell through all right. Hagath and Gaila barely managed to get off the station alive.” Benjamin informed him.

 

Quark looked unmoved. “I hear General Nassuc sent a purification squad after them.”

 

“I wouldn’t count on seeing your former business partners again,” Benjamin said, indignantly.

 

“I can live with that.” Quark decided aloud.

 

“What about the Regent’s death?” Benjamin challenged.

 

“The Regent’s dead?” Quark feigned mild shock. 

 

Benjamin wasn’t impressed. “A purification squad caught up with him this morning.”

 

“I can live with that too.” Quark said with more confidence. “And I can think of twenty-eight million other people who won’t mind, either.”

 

“Twenty-eight million and one.” Benjamin corrected him.

 

“So. About those charges. Don’t forget my little insider information about that other business with that Conrad Wittle fellow.” Quark stood now getting ready for his next glorious pitch. “Surely we can come up with some sort of accommodation in light of my service.”

 

“That depends.” Benjamin countered.

 

“On what?” Quark croaked.

 

“This is what it’s going to cost to repair the cargo bay. As for our other business, that’s only going to help you if our very much alive newly acquired informant Mr. Farrak Haru can bring forward valid testimony about Conrad Wittle’s complicit activities in the area and on this station that will lead to a conviction. Your requested permits to repair your bar are also being temporarily shelved until I get my cargo bay back.” Benjamin informed him. 

 

“Right...Good old Farrak. Who could have guessed that Wittle double-crossed Hagath and helped Farrak fake his own death?” Quark muttered before he took up the estimate and looked through it, swallowing the hard lump fast-growing in his throat.  

 

“That much?” Quark asked.

 

“That much.” Benjamin affirmed.

 

“Well...Maybe we could come up with some sort of installment plan?” Quark gently negotiated.

 

 It was Benjamin’s turn to stand as he loomed over Quark who began to shrink back. 

 

“Works for me.” Benjamin said abruptly and with attitude.

 

Quark merely nodded.

 

He was pretty sure the Captain hadn’t slept yet and the tension and stress of his position were starting to show. Quark knew when to shut his mouth and be grateful for what he had. Slowly he began to turn to slink out of the room. But just before he left Quark looked back.

 

“It’s important to know who my friends are, Captain. As for those who aren’t, let me just say I hope you nail that Wittle character to the wall. If anyone can do it, you can.”

 

Chapter 43: Closing the Gap

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Three: Closing the Gap

 

Once all the drama on the station settled down, Benjamin called for an emergency debriefing. No one had slept yet. Wittle was being treated and held under guard in the infirmary while Odo continued to gather information and file his reports from the field. Hagath, Gaila, and the Regent had fled from the station with General Nassus in hot pursuit. Two of her entourage were dead from the skirmish in the Cargo Bay. Since the problems between the Regent, Hagath, and the General were not in Starfleet's jurisdiction the General was permitted to handle things as she saw fit. Luckily, she had no interest in Wittle and it was soon confirmed that Hagath, Gaila and the Regent had been exterminated by a purification squad under her orders.

 

As everyone gathered Benjamin cleared his throat.

 

“Well people, it wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked but we did it. I’ve contacted Starfleet command and the Authorities on Earth. A collection team is on their way to extradite our Mr. Conrad Wittle back to Earth.” Benjamin began.

 

“Have we been able to prove anything?” Kira muttered.

 

“The initial investigation at first implicated Doctor Bashir in the assassination attempt on Conrad Wittle’s life. However new evidence has been just presented to me from an anonymous source that contradicts our initial findings. A witness to Conrad’s recent activities has also come forward substantiating the evidence of a complex conspiracy to implicate Doctor Bashir and destroy his credibility and endanger his life.” Benjamin explained.

 

“He was going to try and frame Julian for the assassination attempt on Conrad’s life?” Kira asked. “But Conrad was the one who got shot. It doesn’t make any sense.

 

“It seems the assassination was designed to target Doctor Bashir. Conrad staged evidence making it appear as if Julian was setting him up for the attack. Even though Conrad orchestrated everything himself. It’s unclear if the hired assassins where really supposed to kill anyone or if it was just a convenient distraction. Complicated as it is, we do have a witness to some of the planning as I’ve said.” Benjamin clarified.

 

“Who might that be?” Miles wondered aloud.

 

“One Farrak Harru. Up until recently, it was believed that Mr. Harru was killed in a warp core breach coordinated by Val Hagath, his employer. However, it turns out that the destruction of his transport was staged by Wittle and that Farrak was in actuality not on board. It seems that Conrad Wittle was secretly working against Val Hagath and slowly helping various members of his organization to escape. We have reason to believe that of other associates he supported to this end, Quark was one of his charity cases.” Benjamin continued.

 

“Wow.” Dax muttered, marveling at the intricacies involved. “What a piece of work.”

 

“Wait.” Kira muttered. “So you're telling me that Wittle was trying to bring down Val Hagath’s arms dealing operation single-handedly?”

 

“It would make sense,” Julian muttered, arriving late as he inched into the room and took his seat. “Conrad for all his evils really does see himself as a man trying to better the galaxy. Val Hagath was a known predator responsible for the death of possibly a billion people across countless planets. Wittle is a predator whose preferred prey is other predators. That way he can still walk away feeling morally superior.”

 

“Unbelievable,” Miles muttered.

 

“Regardless of the pathology, this time we have something that’s going to stick. Wittle is being charged with attempted murder, conspiracy, data tampering, and whatever else might come out of Farrak’s testimony unrelated to the events on this station. Wittle is to be released into Starfleet’s temporary custody in the morning.” Benjamin explained. “Doctor, you may have to provide your own detailed account of your history and recent contact with Wittle.”

 

“Fine. I have nothing more to hide. Wittle is my last dark secret.” Julian remarked.

 

“How are you feeling Julian? What exactly happened out there?” Dax asked patting his arm.

 

“As far as I can tell, Wittle’s plan was to stage an assassination attempt and frame me for its orchestration. His plan was to leverage my augment status and the general prejudice around human augmentation to justify the public's ire. Had he succeeded I might have been the one in custody now.” Julian admitted. “As for his direct attempt on my life...I don’t know. He used a type of venom found in an insect I once had a reaction to while I was at the academy. Most people would be allergic but Wittle seemed to develop a natural resistance probably through prolonged minute exposure. It’s organic and is commonly mistaken for a natural non-toxic supplement so our scans didn’t pick it up. Myself, Odo, and Gaven believe he intentionally positioned himself to be hit on the court to justify its application. Wittle might not be directly sensitive to it but with enough prolonged contact on the skin he might have still had a reaction which is why he waited to apply it.”

 

“What about Gaven, Is he alright? It looked like he somehow used his own blood on sight to counteract your allergic reaction.” Dax pointed out.

 

Julian sighed. “Gaven’s abilities and general physiology are quite unique. There are many substances he can naturally metabolize and render benign. It was a lucky break and had he not done it, I’d be dead.”

 

“He looked pretty upset. But I have to admit it was pretty impressive to see him take Wittle the way he did.” Dax said approvingly.

 

“Doctor Ore is quite skilled. I am glad to see his recent self-defense training so effectively utilized.” Worf proudly said.

 

“It’s not like him to get like that with people,” Julian muttered.

 

Miles scoffed. “Can you blame him? Hell, if I’d been closer I’d have liked nothing better than to take a crack at Wittle myself. What I’m more amazed at was that he protected him from that rifle shot. That Gaborian might have done everyone a mighty favor.”

 

“I’m not surprised,” Kira interjected. “Gaven doesn’t like violence. He hates it, in fact. Plus, he’s always been committed to preserving life no matter whose life it is.”

 

“Maybe he knew something we didn’t.” Benjamin mused.

 

“Maybe we should have included him in the mission after all. He did a fair good job for someone who didn’t know what was going on.” Miles observed.

 

“No. It was right that we left him out of it even if he resents us for it.” Julian said unhappily.

 

“Once Wittle’s off the station, it’s business as usual, people. You have your reports to write on the events of the last twenty-four hours. I want everything on my desk before the Earth Task Force arrives. This case is no longer considered a Starfleet related situation.” Benjamin informed them. “Everyone, try to get some sleep and goodnight.”

 

As they were all leaving, Dax stopped Julian to give him a hug making him promise to make plans with her soon before she walked home with Worf. Miles was in the middle of his shift and was eager to check on Jake who had been recruited to help watch Kirayoshi and Molly while Keiko was working late on a botany project. Benjamin remained in his office and Julian began to head home but not before Kira caught him at the last minute.

 

“Julian. Odo told me on the way over here that Gaven is still in the holding brig. He seemed so upset earlier and then having to deal with the cargo bay...I’m worried about him. He’s been different lately. Since Wittle is being held in the Infirmary Doctor Fisk treated Gaven at the holding brig along with those with other minor injuries in temporary custody. Julian, Odo said Gavin asked to be put in a cell. Odo implied Gaven thought he might be a danger to people and Fisk backed him and encouraged Odo to let him be held.” Kira explained.

 

“What? That’s preposterous.” Julian protested.

 

“I don’t know what it’s all about. I just thought, maybe...You should go check on him.” Kira suggested.

 

“Yeah. I will.” Julian promised.

 

~@~

 

When Julian arrived at the holding brig, he was instantly stopped by Odo who had beat him there.

 

“Is there something I can help you with, Doctor?” Odo asked firmly.

 

“It's Gaven. Nyres told me he was still here. Why is he being held? He didn't do anything wrong.”

 

“I know. I've been trying to get him to leave for a while now, but he says he’s not ready. It seems that he asked to be placed in voluntary confinement here until he calmed down.” Odo muttered. “Frankly, I've never seen him so angry. If I were you doctor, I might consider leaving him alone for a while.”

 

“Why? Did he say anything about what happened? Kira said something about him thinking he was a danger to others.” Julian pressed.

 

“No. He hasn't said a word since he asked to be confined. But yes. He told Doctor Fisk that for his own safety and theirs he should be kept away from others for now. Perhaps he meant because of his exposure to that venom he counteracted or maybe he meant something else. I’m not sure. What I do know is that Gaven isn’t in the habit of asking for things lightly, so I thought it best to adhere to his wishes and Doctor Fisk agreed. There's a lot we don't know about the Oum and how they handle their personal problems. As his friend, I saw no harm in indulging him if the Doctor saw just cause for it.” Odo mused.

 

“Is he alright medically?” Julian huffed.

 

“He looks a little worse for the wear, but he seems sound enough. Physically anyway, Emotionally? Well...Considering how he feels about you and in light of what happened today I suppose I can understand his position.” Odo sympathetically remarked.

 

Julian tilted his head to the side at this remark. 

 

Eventually, Odo did let Julian continue to the force field reinforced cell Gaven was sitting in. Julian saw Gaven first.

 

 Gaven was sitting on the ground with his good leg bent to his chest. He was dressed all in black with trousers and a tight-knit turtleneck. The seam along one shoulder was ripped open and there were still traces of blood under his nails and from the shoulder wound the projectile had.

 

Gaven hugged his knee and stared straight ahead. His expression was one of intense concentration as he simmered where he sat. His brow was furrowed and his eyes which Gaven had recently begun to darken with cosmetics were bright, large, and filled with flaming intellect. 

 

Julian could practically hear his broiling thoughts and looking at him now even he took a pause. Gaven looked like the devil was in him and it was the most intimidating Julian had ever seen the man appear.

 

 Intimidating and exotically stunning. 

 

“Gaven? Gaven, are you alright?” Julian said quietly inching towards the cell barrier. His throat still hurt giving it a raspy quality.

 

Gaven didn't say anything but his lower jaw set more forward as he glared straight ahead as if he was intentionally trying to ignore Julian.

 

“Gaven, speak to me. I can't tolerate your silence. If you’re angry with me say so.” Julian pressed him.

 

“Yes, Julian. I am angry with you.” Gaven conceded at length.

 

“Why?” Julian pressed, relieved the man was acknowledging him once more.

 

“Some things in this universe are just too despicable for words.” Gaven began in a hushed mutter as he glanced from Julian back into the space straight ahead of him. “In my time off my world I have not been a stranger to the dark intentions of others but in all instances, I have seen the necessity involved. I can appreciate the actions of the destitute or desperate. But I will never understand harming any person or thing merely for the sake of it.”

 

“Your right. Conrad and his associates are a despicable lot which is why the Captain gave me leave to conduct this covert operation.” Julian reasoned.

 

“Very convenient indeed.” Gaven remarked darkly. “Do you want to know why I’m angry with you in particular? I’m angry with you because you could have been killed. Moreover, there could have been all kinds of unforeseen casualties today, and why? because you and that monster decided to settle a score between you in front of an audience.”

 

“We were conducting a covert mission, I…” Before Julian could finish, he was promptly cut off.

 

“Don’t tell me your tryst with Conrad Wittle was just a matter of course when it wasn’t.”

 

“Alright. What if I were to admit it was personal between us? What’s done is done. Everything turned out for the best. With what’s happened, Conrad Wittle is in custody. Now he’s never going to be able to hurt anyone again.” Julian reasoned.

 

“For the best? People died today. People who were directly connected to Wittle and his associates. I fail to see how that outcome was the most ideal outside of ridding the galaxy of a mass-murdering arms dealer and a few of his people. Hagath’s and, indeed, Wittle’s clients will just go elsewhere. If this were only about what that damn human and what he and his alien partners did for a living, I could perhaps overlook it all. But you could have cared less about the rest of it. Your entire focus was set specifically on Conrad Wittle and whatever vendetta the both of you formed together. He tried to kill you, Julian, and you nearly let him do it.” Gaven raged, getting painfully to his feet to glare at him as he let his palms barely touch the force field causing what appeared to be a subtle power surge.

 

Gaven instantly let his hands drop as he tried to get his temper back under control.

 

“Gaven, please. If I hadn’t agreed to confront Conrad, he would have never stopped. If he couldn’t get to me he would have turned to enact his will on everyone else within range around me, including you. Did you honestly expect me to just look the other way? I’m sorry but I couldn’t. I had to protect the people I care about. I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of all of it. Please, forgive me.” Julian wished he could reach out to Gaven and take his hands to prove his remorse, but the force field between them prevented the gesture.

 

“I’m not just angry with you, Julian. I’m grossly disappointed. While I have never thought of you as a perfect man, I had thought you wise enough to keep your ego in check when it mattered. I need you to walk away from here now before I'm driven to do something that I am apt to regret.” Gaven warned him as his emotions threatened to get the better of him once more.

 

“Gaven.” Julian pressed.

 

“Julian, I said go.” Gaven insisted with a flash of force that caused Julian to go silent.

 

“How long are you going to sit in here then? You’re still soaked in blood. I know you're angry with me and upset in general. Fine. But at least come out of that cell and let me take you home or anywhere else. Let me help you.” Julian begged.

 

“No.” Gaven said in a hushed murmur. He could feel his pent-up energy in his nervous system finally begin to recede to a safe degree, leaving only pensive anxiety in its wake. “I’ve had enough of your kind of helping for the day.”

 

“Look. You’re scaring me.” Julian whispered. “Tell me something I can do for you.”

 

“I’m scaring you? Julian, you scare me all the time. Lately, it’s been just one thing after another. You want to know why I’m sitting here? Something happened to me today that...Hasn’t happened since I was an adolescent. I really almost lost control today. If being here...Being on this station under such conditions can...can…. bring me to that edge when even the death of my bondmate didn’t then I must question if this isn’t all more than I can handle. There’s so much inside of me none of you can see, so little any of you understand. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

 

“You’re right. But we can learn. I can learn if you’ll let me. Just…” Julian began.

 

“Doctor,” Odo interrupted drawing their attention as he appeared beside the holding cell. “I’ll bring him home. Why don’t you two just give each other some space for a little while.”

 

“Wait. Just wait a moment.” Julian evenly said. “I wanted to ask you something and at the risk of it being terrible timing, I’m going to ask you anyway. Come with me to Leeta and Rom’s engagement party in a few days...” 

 

“No.” Gaven rebuffed him.

 

“Gaven, come with me. Please.” Julian implored him. “Surely you don’t plan on staying mad at me forever and Leeta and Rom want you there as much as I. They’re our friends. Everyone is going to be partnered except you and I.”

 

“It's really that easy for you to let the events of today go, is it?” Gaven challenged him.

 

“No. But life goes on. I want to talk to you about this. About the circumstances leading up to it all. But I don’t want to do it here. Not like this.  Gaven, won't you come out of that ridiculous cell? For the last time. Come with me somewhere and we can talk about it all and when we're done you can help me pick out an engagement gift. You're far better at the niceties of things than I am.” Julian requested, trying to cut through Gaven’s anxiousness with distraction.

 

“Just,” Gaven sighed. “Leave me alone.”

 

Gaven then looked to Odo. “Get him out of here, please.”

 

Odo nodded and stepped closer to Julian. “Come away, Doctor.”

 

Scowling deeply Julian let Odo lead him aside and back the way he’d come. When they were out of Gaven’s sight Julian pulled out of Odo’s grasp.

 

“Have I really fouled things that badly?” Julian helplessly inquired.

 

“Yes.” Odo said. “And also, no. As far as I can see, Doctor Ore is just very upset right now. Frankly, I was wondering when he was going to hit his breaking point.”

 

“What?” Julian asked.

 

“His breaking point.” Odo pressed his lips when he realized he was going to have to explain further. “Doctor, Gaven isn’t human. He’s an Oum. The first of his kind to appear off-planet in possibly a millennium. All this time he’s been thrust from one place to another. In that time, he’s had to simply adapt and survive without any regard for his species' actual values and beliefs or for his private ones. Has it ever occurred to you how difficult it’s been for him here? Even his appearance has been altered and his features suppressed for everyone else's benefit.”

 

“Yes, but you act as if he has no voice or free will whatsoever.” Julian began to argue.

 

“Julian, besides now when have you ever heard the man say no to anyone?” Odo growled. “Everything everyone’s ever asked of him since being out in space, he has done. Anytime someone needed something he could provide them; he gave of himself. He’s hinted time and again about things that disturb him, but he goes along with them because he feels he must. You’re one of his closest friends. Can you honestly say you know his natural likes and dislikes beyond what you’ve witnessed firsthand? What about his hopes and fears? What does he really want for himself? If you don’t know do you really think anyone else does around here? Under these conditions, it was only a matter of time before Gaven started putting his foot down. He’s not just going to agree to everything anymore. He’s not a Starfleet officer or a member of the Federation of Planets and thus he shouldn’t be expected to behave like someone who is.”

 

Odo paused long enough to let that all sink in before continuing. “He’s also not a servant anymore or someone’s mate for that matter and, as I’ve already pointed out, he is CERTAINLY not a human.”

 

“I know, I know. How do I fix this, Odo?” Julian asked weakly.

 

Odo grunted. 

 

It was clear Julian had no idea what he was doing.

 

“Let me see if I can get him out of there and properly calmed down. Hopefully, once I do, he’ll approach you himself. In case you haven’t noticed, Doctor Ore happens to be in love with you and he clearly doesn't know how to handle it. If I were you, I would tread carefully but with purpose, Doctor.” Odo advised him.

 

~@~

 

Per his promise, Odo gave Gaven a wide berth. He had quite alot of work to do and Gaven seemed content to just be by himself.

 

Once he was done, Odo languidly came back to check on him.

 

“Well? Are you feeling better?” Odo asked.

 

Gaven had been sitting on the floor again, resting his torso against his knees in reposed fashion. When Odo approached and began speaking to him, he opened his eyes.

 

“Yes.” Gaven softly said.

 

“Good. Why don’t you come over for a little while and see Kajel? I don’t eat but you should.”

 

Gaven nodded numbly and waited for Odo to lower the shield barrier before letting him help him to his feet.

 

Odo then passed a utility blanket over to Gaven to wrap around himself and returned his forearm crutch before wrapping one arm around Gaven’s shoulders careful of his injury and walking with him to Odo’s nearby quarters.

 

Gaven allowed all of this without comment or complaint eventually settling upon Odo’s sofa.

 

“I don’t know how much more I can take of all this,” Gaven admitted rubbing his face slowly with his hands.

 

“You're overwhelmed. Maybe it's time to start thinking about other options.” Odo offered, bringing Gaven over some tea.

 

“You mean leave,” Gaven said dryly.

 

“Well, there is Bajor. You could try it and see how you felt for a while. Bajor is close to the station so you could still maintain your relationships here but maybe have more autonomy over your life in general.” Odo offered. ”What is it about everything that’s happened that has you so upset? I’d like to better understand.”

 

“All this violence and uncertainty is getting at me. I was fine for a while. I felt like I was contributing something. I’ve enjoyed tremendous privilege here on the station but...I don’t feel I have a right to anything that I really want.” Gaven admitted.

 

“What do you want?” Odo asked.

 

“A home. A sense of permanent identity and a greater purpose besides living through the day and trying to make sure everyone else does the same. I suppose I want whatever sentient free being wants.” Gaven said.

 

“So, have it. Settle on the station or go find some out of the way planet somewhere where you can build your own life. Take a lover, or companion, or life partner and do what comes naturally to you once you do. Doctor, if I may say you are not without options.” Odo counseled him.

 

“I know, I know. I think about it all sometimes, but…” Gaven hesitated. “I’m just so terribly afraid. How does one protect against the unknowns of life? If I go out on my own, then I really will be on my own. Maybe I’m a coward.”

 

“A coward, Doctor? You?” Odo snorted at the thought. “Hardly. Cowards don’t step in front of bullets meant for other people. They don’t leverage their compassion to bring people together and care for those around them. You may be afraid to be sure, but you’re not the type to run away from the things that scare you most. You face them and look for a way forward.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Odo.” Gaven said.

 

“You’re welcome.” Odo nodded. “Speaking of facing things. You might consider hearing Doctor Bashir out soon about what happened. I understand there is some legitimate history between him and Conrad that contributed to everything.”

 

“Julian,” In spite of how angry he’d been earlier at the man, a hint of a smile threatened at the corner of Gaven’s mouth. “It does occur to me that I overreacted. I just worry that he thinks of himself as invincible sometimes.”

 

Odo nodded. “That kind of mentality comes with being young. Personally, I think Doctor Bashir has become acutely aware of his mortality as of late and while I suspect he will always be a man that errs on the side of recklessness, when it matters most, I’ve found him to be one of the most reliable men I know. Tell him how you feel and see what he does with it. He may very well surprise you and you may surprise yourself.” 

 

Gaven spoke with Odo a little longer and then visited with Kajel once the changeling woke up and came out of its bucket.

 

Despite Gaven being tired and emotionally worn out he was glad to sit awhile with someone he considered to be a friend.

 

When it was time to go home Gaven said his goodbyes. Odo offered to escort him home but Gaven shook his head thanking him but declining the offer and then left on his own. On his way to his quarters, he felt emotionally more steady but his mind felt heavy and his shoulder and thigh ached. But considering everything that had happened, Gaven finally felt satisfied with how everything had turned out. No doubt it was Garak who had uncovered whatever information was going to be used to stop Conrad Wittle in his tracks. Gavan felt reassured by the thought that bringing Garak into the fold had been the right thing to do. If he hadn’t everything might have turned out differently. In hindsight everyone had done well.

 

Turning the corner down his corridor Gaven approached his quarters only to see a shameful looking Julian, sitting on the ground alongside his door waiting for him. He looked about as terrible as Gaven felt. My what a pair they made.

 

Gaven stopped at the other end of the door and waited.

 

Julian rolled his head to the side and looked sideways at him. When he spoke, his voice was horse and thick like he’d been recently crying.

 

“I know you said,” Julian began carefully. “To leave you alone, but...I feel terrible and I just wanted…”

 

Gaven sighed. “Come on. Get up and we’ll go inside.”

 

A few minutes later they were together in the familiar comfort of Gaven’s quarters. In some ways, Julian was starting to prefer them to his own.

 

Julian slipped over to the couch and settled down on it.

 

Gaven meanwhile went into the kitchenette. “Did you want me to replicate you something? Some tea maybe, or some coffee.”

 

“No. Thank you. I’d really rather just talk. If that’s alright?” Julian carefully asked.

 

“All right. Let’s talk.” Gaven set his crutch down and limped into the living room intending to take a dining chair.

 

“Would you come and sit with me, please. I just...I feel vulnerable and tired…” Julian began.

 

“Your face is still swollen a bit. Did Doctor Fisk give you something to treat that venom still in your system?” Gaven frowned and approached him leaning and tilting Julian’s chin up to see his throat in a better light.

 

“Yes. It’s going to take a few days for the swelling to go completely away.” Julian took Gaven’s hand and pulled it gently away from his face. “Sit.”

 

Gaven awkwardly settled down next to him.

 

“Tell me why you had Odo lock you in the brig.” Julian requested while still holding his hand.

 

Gaven sighed and rubbed at his cheek with his free hand. ”I was upset. I’d been upset the day before and it built on itself. At first, I was angry that everyone shut me out. I might not have minded so much if they’d removed me completely out of the situation but when I was asked to act as the event’s medical personnel, I felt for the first time like Starfleet was using me for something without my consent. For a long time, I’ve been building up this notion that it wouldn’t happen here. That I would always be given a choice and that my decisions would be respected.”

 

“Why did you go along with it then?” Julian questioned.

 

“Because it was about you,” Gaven replied. “I wanted to protect you and I decided that if the other officers weren’t going to inform me that I was going to inform myself and pursue my own measures. I wanted to protect you.”

“And the brig?” Julian went on.

 

“I got pushed too far. People like Wittle, like Val Hagath, or the Regent terrify me. They’re not just immoral. They’re literally wired to be predators. They kill and cause pain for the sake of it and I don’t need to be an empath to see that. Although it’s disturbing enough to see the chemical and biological workings of these individuals. I didn’t know such people existed until now.” Gaven admitted.

 

Julian felt a wave of guilt wash over him at the thought that he’d somehow contributed to destroying Gaven’s innocence and squeezed his hand. He could feel Gaven’s pulse quicken as he recalled his impressions.

 

“When I realized Wittle was fixated on you I thought he only intended to dismantle your life. I think in his own mind it’s possible that even Wittle believed that was how it was going to be. I believe that allowing himself to be hit by the ball so that he would have an excuse to attack you directly was an impulse. A retaliatory reaction to the reality that he had lost whatever power he once had over you. He’d lost you for good and he couldn’t reconcile it. You represented the last genuinely good element of his life and if he couldn’t bring himself to conquer you then he decided he would have to destroy you instead.”

 

“That’s some theory,” Julian muttered.

 

“He wanted you to treat him. He wanted proof in his own mind that you still loved him.” Gaven continued remembering the thing Wittle had said.

 

“I used to love Conrad. Before he showed his true colors, I was hopelessly smitten. But it’s over now. I hope I never see him again.” Julian admitted.

 

“There was this moment for me. I had Wittle pinned to the ground and he was taunting me, and I realized at that moment that I hated him. And I remember an overwhelming temptation came over me then. For the briefest of moments, I had the impulse to kill him then and there. I felt my hands begin to charge and I knew I could have ended his life if I’d wanted to. But before I could decide, he retaliated. Got me off him and came at you instead. And then almost right after I was pulled away to the cargo bay, but we were too late. Two of the people with the General were already dead, they hadn’t stood a chance and it was just too much all at once. I wanted to lash out. I was so...Angry.  When we got the wounded back to the brig and Fisk took over, I asked Odo to confine me.” Gaven explained.

 

“So, you have defensive capabilities with your linking ability. Under duress, you could open a two-way channel and potentially kill or influence someone else's biochemistry using the control you have over your own. It’s partly how you were able to help slow the effects of the venom and enhance the absorption of the anti-venom. It’s what you alluded to when I asked you once about Oum self-defense.” Julian said, remembering.

Gaven nodded. “The ability is generally rooted in the fight or flight mechanism. But it can also be activated by an intense emotional response.”

 

“You said in the brig it hadn’t been since your adolescence that you’d felt like this before.” Julian prompted.

 

Gaven grunted and absently squeezed Julian’s hand. “Once, when I was still an adolescent, Lopel Ner and I were walking to a nearby village when we were confronted with a few other adolescents our age. Because Lopel was socially higher ranking he decided to take issue with them for not stepping out of his way. Indignant over this demand the youth confronted him over it, and it was decided that a fight was to ensue. At that age, Lopel Ner was inexperienced with physical confrontation and he was afraid. And so, it was then decided that I and the other youth’s bondservant would stand in for them.” Gaven explain. 

 

“What happened?” Julian pressed.

 

Gaven scoffed in an amused manner. “I was beaten within an inch of my life. It wasn’t as if I was acquainted with physical violence either. Lopel Ner had to drag me home like a pack animal and when the incident was discovered, and the details rooted out Gulevere physically punished him for it. It was the only time it ever happened.”

 

“This biochemical urge to retaliate. Was it when you were being assaulted?” Julian asked.

 

“No. It was later while I was stuck incapacitated in bed having to listen to Lopel Ner cry out and beg as Gulevere punished him. For weeks I replayed the events of that night, imagining what I would have done had I been well enough to stop him. We never talked about it afterward, but I never quite got over the rage I felt. It was senseless. All of it. Senseless and frightening. Gulevere was right to punish him for it. It was disrespectful and foolish for Lopel to use me that way. It may not seem like the bonded are treated with much respect but, it is a crime to allow undue harm to befall a bonded servant. Our purpose is to preserve the lives of our Bondmasters, not to fight their battles for them. Do you see?” Gaven asked, hoping Julian understood what he was trying to say.

 

“Yes. If it pains you, then we don’t need to talk about it more.” Julian supportively said. “I can see now that it’s triggering for you to know someone is actively hurting someone you care about.”

 

Or rather, someone you love. Julian made the correction in his head but didn’t say it out loud.

 

“Gaven,” Julian said as he watched him lean his head back and shut his eyes. “I know it’s been a hellish ordeal and we’re both hurt, raw, and tired right now; but there’s something else I want to say. Something else I want to talk about, really.”

 

Julian felt Gaven subtly tense. 

 

“I want to go back to that night in Vic’s. Gaven, you were planning to tell me something there. But after we were interrupted, we were never able to pick up the conversation. I...” Julian felt Gaven slowly let go of his hand and forced himself to stand.

 

It was the first time he ever saw Gaven try to evade direct communication as he suddenly headed for his bedroom.

 

“I have to get out of these soiled clothes,” Gaven said abruptly from the interior of the bedroom. “Julian, I don’t think this is the right time to revisit our conversation in Vic’s. Like you said, we’re both tired and emotionally raw.”

 

“Are you actually trying to avoid talking about this?” Julian incredulously asked, getting up to follow him.

 

“Gaven, why can’t we talk about this?” Julian asked. 


Gaven finished pulling his ripped turtleneck gingerly over his head and after discarding it on the floor he pressed his eyes shut pensively. "Because I'm confused enough right now."



“Confused,” Julian repeated in flat disbelief. “You're confused? About what? About your feelings for me whatever they may be?"



At this Gaven weakly peered at him sidelong as he braced his hands against the edge of the dresser he was standing in front of near the doorway.



Julian mused over his expression. By now he knew the meaning behind most of them. He felt like he had finally cracked the Oum code enough to read Gaven without him having to say anything. Or so Julian liked to believe in that moment. In this instance, it dawned on him as he observed the other man, that Gaven was not only confused by their situation and his feelings, but he was also afraid to reason them out. Perhaps he simply didn’t know how.

 

Having him get over that fear and social ignorance became a demanding need in Julian’s heart.



"Gaven, don’t you see that I have feelings for you? They've been growing for a long time and though I’ve tried to be conservative about them I can’t believe I’ve been able to so completely conceal their existence from you." Julian explained imploringly.  "I believe you feel for me too, but I don’t know how to reach you. I want to reach you. Please tell me how I can help us do what I know you really want and close this excruciating space between us."



As was his habit, where others would have evaded what they found to be exposing and uncomfortable, Gaven finally looked Julian in the face unwilling once more to mask his emotions as he experienced them. The sharp conflict splayed across his features like an evenly matched battle of warring sides.


"I do have feelings for you, Julian," Gaven admitted quietly. "When I'm around you...A whole undiscovered world comes into my mists and it's so unlike anything I've known or felt before."



Julian could detect acute pain in his words. It was pain that seemed new and young and that Julian didn't understand the source of. He didn’t understand what was hurting in Gaven so much or why he couldn’t bring himself to face what they both knew to be true between them.



Julian saw now that Gaven was close to terror over his inability to rationalize his feelings. He needed to move quickly to comfort and soothe him. 

 

"There. We've said it. We both... feel for each other. That's...That’s a good solid place to start. We can work out the rest, can't we Gaven? You and me? We can do it together. Piece by piece, until it all makes sense." Julian bargain as he slowly approached him.



"It won't work, Julian." Gaven warned him.



"Why? What's stopping us?” He paused to lean into the door frame. ” Please, I want to understand."



"It’s as I've said before. Being here, now, with you and everyone on the station is temporary. At some point, I’ll have to find my own way in the universe. I can’t stay here with you.” Gaven inhaled deeply and let it out. “As much as I feel for you, Julian, I know that I can't live within those feelings. If I tried and lost you somewhere down the line, it would destroy me. I...I can't walk down that path again no matter how I feel."



To this Julian had no rebuttal, though it chaffed to think that after everything he'd experienced on Deep Space Nine, that Gaven still didn't see the station as his home. Julian could appreciate that Gaven needed to find himself, but he didn't agree with the notion that the man needed to pursue that journey alone.



"What are you going to do then, just carry on holding everyone away at arm's length? No companionship, no one to care for you and help you along the way as you try to figure your life out?" Julian questioned unable to hide the hurt and frustration in his tone. “What about all the time we’ve spent together. Are you trying to convince me that all of that was...What? You giving in to me? You, giving into yourself?”



Gaven sighed in mutual frustration. "Don’t do that. Don’t spin this into an accusation. What would you have me do? I know I'm not aloneI know. But don’t you see that I've never been free, Julian? I've never had true autonomy before unlike you and practically everyone else it seems in the galaxy. I...I don't know how to live just for myself and according to my own desires. In order to continue, I need to learn how. I was born to serve and only to serve." The last part was spoken almost like a resigned mantra. 

 

A mantra Gaven was learning to reject.


Realizing he was pushing too hard with his expectations and that Gaven was slowly slipping even farther out of his reach, Julian closed the gap between them and tugged Gaven sideways into a supportive embrace.


" I'm sorry. I’m sorry this is so hard for you. That it’s so painful and confusing...But please don’t leave me out of it anymore. You’re not off the station yet. " Julian whispered against his ear.


Gaven took a few deep breaths trying to calm down as he allowed Julian to hold him. As always, despite his own problems he was sensitive to the other man’s feelings and wanted to support him in return. 

 

"I know you'd like more between us and I regret that I can't give you that right now, but please understand me when I say that this is not about me not wanting you." Gaven explained.


"This isn’t about you not wanting me, eh? Well, isn’t that just darling.” The confession was somehow more cutting than if Gaven had outright rejected him and when Julian was stung it was harder for him to act with perfect foresight.

 

 Although he heard the compassion in Gaven's pleading tone, he felt that he still needed to press his point. Now more than ever.

 

 “Why is it that everything is always about what you want or don’t want? What about me, hm? What exactly have we been doing together all this time?" Julian questioned.

 

Gaven pulled mostly out of his embrace but didn’t pull away completely.  

 

Julian was pushing for answers again and Gaven was quickly running out of things to say to dissuade him.

 

 “I can’t talk about this right now. I can’t.” Gaven said abruptly as he started to pull the rest of the way out of Julian’s grasp.

 

Julian let him go as Gaven doggedly retreated into the living room while Julian tailed him.

 

“Why the bloody Hell not? What’s so hard about it?” Julian demanded, raising his voice a tick before forcing himself to adopt a more reasonable tone.

 

“Here. Let me start. From the first day I met you, I felt something between us. You didn’t even know me and yet you saw right through all my pretenses the moment we were introduced. Time and again you’ve protected me. Kept my secrets and aided me with or without my knowledge or my consent. We have worked side by side together and saved each other time and again. There have been so many times you took me into your confidence. Do you have any idea how all of that makes me feel?” Julian demanded.

 

Despite himself, this line of dialogue captured Gaven’s curiosity. “No. I don’t. How...How do I make you feel?”

 

Progress. Julian thought.

 

“You make me feel seen. Cared for. You arouse my mind as much as my body. You challenge and at times confound me. You make me feel safe, solid, and humble. I ache for you and for all the things you are. But mostly, I love you and I believe you love me back; but you’re too afraid to act on it. That’s one of the many differences between us. You’re afraid to act and I’m not.” Julian muttered This final remark in an intimately conspiratorial tone as he slowly walked towards Gaven.

 

Gaven stood his ground and let him come not fully comprehending what Julian’s intentions were.


Determined to have some small part of his own satisfaction and calculating that it might be the only opportunity he would ever get, Julian closed the remaining space between them, rose up onto his toes, and with every ounce of emotional energy he had Julian planted a demanding kiss on Gaven's mouth bringing home everything he felt in one swoop as he snaked his hands up to cup the back of Gaven's neck while his thumbs pressed firmly into his angular jaw right smack in the center of Gaven’s living room.

The effect was deeply satisfying. 

 

Julian felt Gaven give almost immediately and sensed the intensity of the other man's surprise as well as his desire.  Gaven caught Julian around the lower back and briefly tightened his hold as he momentarily took on their combined weight and began to blindly grope behind himself for a wall to brace against in order to avoid losing his balance. Soon enough he found it mostly because Julian had made a point to steady them and nudge him backwards into one while he took advantage of Gaven's weakened state and deepened their kiss.

 

The sensation was utterly intoxicating for both.

 

Eventually, Gaven forced his face away. At some point, he'd apparently stopped trying to breathe through their passion. Now though he had to come up for air and with it came his usual determined sense of self-control and self-denial. 

 

Breathing hard with his back braced against the wall, Gaven firmly gripped Julian by the shoulders and pried them apart forcing him aside.

 

“You need to get out.” Gaven said flatly.

 

Julian made like he was going to protest but wasn’t permitted to.

 

No, Julian. Before you even try, I don't want to talk about what you just did. Just...Get out. NOW. ” Gaven demanded more forcefully.

 

Julian could hear that Gaven’s voice was thick with desire and longing, but his gaze and tone were firm. 

 

Again, Julian could read between the lines. Gaven’s dogged message was clear. It said; You've made your point now please leave so I can torment myself over it in peace.

 

Julian loudly scoffed.

 

Fine. Just so long as we understand each other now.” Julian muttered cuttingly.

 

 He then spun on his heels and promptly fled Gaven’s quarters without another word leaving the other man looking stricken, weak, and entirely pained.

Chapter 44: Bespoken and Preconceived

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Four: Bespoken and Preconceived

 

            As Julian headed back to his own quarters his shoulders were hunched in frustrated anger as a weight of remorse settled down upon him over his rash actions. He'd wanted to make a point or prove one to Gaven moments ago, but instead his actions now inadvertently filled him with slow rising turmoil. 

 

Julian realized he had kissed Gaven because he'd wanted to take a stand with him. But instead of letting loose Gaven’s tightly wound inhibitions with the intention of freeing them both, the very passion Julian had hoped to ignite in the other man was now backfiring on him. 

 

Before this moment Julian had been able to contain the strength of his own feelings. Not knowing how Gaven really felt, it had been easier to keep his own desire for the alien under wraps and emotionally contained. The kiss between them changed everything. In exposing and exploiting Gaven’s feelings for him, Julian had equally exposed himself in a manner that could never be taken back. 

 

As he returned to his own quarters, Julian found that he couldn’t escape the strength of what he’d just experienced. It was like nothing he’d felt before with someone. Furthermore, Gaven hadn’t stopped or tried to deflect him. He’d given himself over to Julian completely if only for a few moments cementing the proof of mutual desire between them that Julian had wanted so badly. There had been no resistance in the exchange until the very end when Gaven had proven he was the stronger of the two of them by pushing Julian away and sending him packing. 

 

Despite this, the important thing was that now Julian knew beyond a doubt that Gaven wanted him. That he loved him, even.  

 

Julian repeated that revelation again in his mind.

 

Gaven was truly in love with him. 

 

The realization hit Julian like a brick to the face so abruptly that he was completely unprepared for it.  

 

Gasping as he felt his chest constrict painfully, Julian burst into his quarters and half-collapsed into one of his living room chairs.  Intellectually, he knew he was having a panic attack but to the rest of him, it felt like an emotion laced heart attack. He realized he was angry with Gaven and suddenly felt profoundly rejected by him as well.  

 

To make matters worse, it wasn't a secret anymore. 

 

People knew that something was happening between them. 

 

Everyone knew. 

 

Normally, Julian secretly enjoyed people gossiping about his love life but the idea of continued speculation flying about he and Gaven's dynamic bothered him for reasons he couldn't name.

 

“I should have bloody well left it alone.” Julian berated himself out loud as he stalked into his bedroom.

 

It didn't help that Gaven was eventually leaving the station for an undetermined amount of time and with his Vulcan companion of all people. Julian wasn’t sure when that was happening, but he imagined that it had to be soon. 

 

Partially because he was angry, Julian allowed himself to deflect the strength of his feelings by blaming Jyrrus Cheval. It was no secret on the station that there was an unusually personal bond between the two that Gaven tended to avoid elaborating on.

 

 Despite knowing better, Julian felt his jealousy flair as the corners of his eyes pickled with tears.

 

 Miles had once asked him if dating women had been easier on him and he had affirmed it was so. He’d never bothered to relate that his ability to emotionally detach when he needed to from his female counterparts was the key appeal. With Gaven though, like with Wittle before him, Julian couldn't compartmentalize his feelings for Gaven and put them conveniently away even though it seemed like that was exactly what he was going to have to do now. For this reason, maybe it was better that Gaven was leaving them eventually. It never occurred to him to accept that Gaven’s trip to Vulcan was meant to be short. He had never suggested it to be anything else. Yet every time Julian thought about it, he always imagined that the trip was permanent implanting the subconscious superstition that if Gaven went there he would never come back.

He wanted to believe that if Gaven ever did leave them permanently, Julian could force himself to move on like normal. He could will himself to dismiss Gaven. He’d done it before, and he could do it again. 

 

Stripping out of his shirt and pants Julian moved into his bedroom and sank down onto his bed as a teary groan threatened to spill from his lips.  

 

Despite it all, he couldn’t help wondering what Gaven thought of him now. He couldn’t help from questioning if how he’d handled things had been beneath him. 

 

Gaven had rescued him again, after all.

 

 He’d stood up in front of friends and enemies alike and took a stand on Julian’s behalf. There could be no doubt about why Gaven had done it. He had done what anyone protecting their partner would have. He’d acted out of protective love and put himself directly in harm's way without concern for the wisdom of it.  

 

His response to Gaven’s heroics had been grossly inappropriate.  Angry, confused, and dejected Julian simply got into bed and did his best not to torture himself too much over everything if he could manage it. 

 

A tall order indeed.

 

~@~

 

About an hour later, just as Julian had fallen asleep, a quarter-to-quarter call came through. It took a few dings but eventually Julian woke out of his miserable repose to answer it. 

 

“Bashir.”

 

There was a pregnant pause on the other end before someone came through. “It’s me. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

 

“Gaven,” Julian rose on his elbows quite surprised indeed and wary. “What do you want?”

 

“I want to come over,” Gaven replied.

 

“Now? Why? No. It’s late.” He protested.

 

"Julian, please.” There was a restlessness in his tone. “I know it’s late...And we’ve had an argument. But…”

 

“Fine. It’s fine.” Julian rubbed at his chin and sighed. “Just come directly.”

 

Julian then promptly ended the communication and groaned before dropping back down on his bed and rolling onto his side. He felt defeated and he couldn’t possibly imagine what else Gaven wanted to say to him. When the door soon sounded, Julian told the computer to let him in. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to get out of bed to face him.

 

Gaven stepped in. 

 

He’d showered, it appeared, and his curly dark hair was fluffed but still damp. He’d also changed into another all-black outfit. His default lately when he wasn’t in something Garak had made him. 

 

“I’m in here,” Julian called softly.

 

Gaven came to the edge of the room directly, holding back only when he got to the doorway. There he perched leaning into its side. He was sporting the leg brace this time which allowed him the freedom to let one arm hang while he grasped at his bicep with the other.

 

Both men watched each other for a long time silently. 

 

I’m sorry I kissed you.” Julian said at length.

 

Gaven nodded slowly. “I’m sorry I made you leave.” 

 

Julian sniffed and rubbed at his face as he sat up in bed. “What are we going to do about this?”

 

Gaven sighed and pushed off the door so that he could sit on the end of Julian’s bed with his hands between his knees. 

 

“I don’t know. I’m at a complete loss with it all and I feel like a lot of this is my fault.” Gaven admitted. “I should have been more conscientious about my behavior around you. If I wasn’t prepared to act on my impulses, I shouldn’t have allowed you to become aware of their existence.”

 

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to lie to me.” Julian pointed out. “You shouldn’t have to conceal how you feel or be afraid to assert your personal boundaries. I’m sorry I violated them.”

 

“Don’t be. Sometimes when I’m afraid I need a little push.” Gaven conceded as he pulled his eyes away from his hands and shyly looked at Julian.

 

“Maybe, we could just try it. Being together I mean. No strings or demands of commitment. No long-term plans...Just take things moment to moment. What do you think?” Julian suggested.

 

At this Gaven visibly hesitated.

 

“Gaven, you want to be with me. You said so yourself. Why can’t you just let yourself have what you want when it’s being offered to you? You’re not on Oum anymore. Lopel Ner is dead. Deep Space Nine will be here for you for as long as you need it and when you’re ready to go elsewhere...I won’t stop you. What more do you want from me?” Julian asked.

 

Gaven gazed wide-eyed at him but after a long moment he let out the breath he’d been holding, and a sheepish expression came over his face. “I think another little push might do.”

 

At this remark, a cool wash of relief engulfed Julian tinted with a shiny sliver of hope. Gaven was giving Julian a means to more deeply connect with him as well as permission to do so. He saw now what Gaven needed from him, at least at this moment and Julian had every intention of providing for him.

 

“Come here.” Julian gently rolled onto his back and onto his other side as he pulled back part of the bedspread. 

 

Gaven smiles softly at the almost exasperated tone in Julian’s command and slowly got up and came around the side of the bed planning to slip in carefully beside him.

 

“Oh, and for the record, people do not wear shirts in my bed so take it off. Take off that leg brace too. There’s no point in wearing it to bed.” Julian muttered.

 

Gaven grunted and tilted his head in an amused fashion. “Are you done?” 

 

“I certainly am not. My bed. My rules.” Julian remarked demurely. “When we sleep in your bed, you can tell me how you like things.”

 

“Oh. I see. How equitable of you.” Gaven muttered before pulling off his tunic and slipping off his loafers. “Did you want my trousers too or are those allowed?”

 

“Don’t push it.” Julian teased with mock authority.

 

Gaven chose to leave his trousers on. They were a loose material with a sturdy but soft give. The brace could be released through his trousers, so he did and pulled it out from his waistband and set it down by the bed. 

 

Julian held the edge of the blanket aloft and waited patiently for Gaven to slip in beside him before he fell back into his own spot on his back and shut his eyes.

 

Gaven settled under the blanket and laid on his back as well tucking his right hand behind his head, but unlike Julian, he kept his eyes open as stared off into the ceiling of the softly lit bedroom.

 

Both were quite tired and tolerated this strange truce between them even though there were many things that still weren’t settled between them. Julian was willing to take his victories one at a time and as he came upon them. The abrupt turn around in their fighting was a good sign and the fact that Gaven had turned up so soon and was now settled beside him was a damn bloody miracle. Soon enough Julian slipped back into a steady sleep rolling onto his side absently towards Gaven. Since his arm was so conveniently placed, Julian took possession of Gaven’s bicep and cuddled up to it nearly straddling Gaven’s open hand between his knees.

 

Gaven turned his head and tilted it down to gaze upon the younger man. Julian was so boyish sometimes. As before, Julian had practically tucked his face under Gaven’s shoulder and from his vantage, he could see a faint round bruise on the side of Julian’s throat where Gaven had pressed the hypo-injector a little too hard into his skin. Gaven frowned and cupped the side of Julian’s throat and chin with his hand momentarily covering the spot before he ran his thumb across it as if he were trying to rub the mark away.

 

“Ow. Gaven, don’t. That spot hurts.” Julian muttered in a muffled fashion as he readjusted and settled his cheek atop Gaven’s shoulder and snuggled even closer while he pulled Gaven’s other hand down to the curve of Julian’s side. 

 

“I’m sorry.” Gaven softly said, referring less to the present moment and more to the moment he’d given Julian the bruise.

 

Julian opened his eyes slowly and let out a slow huff looking briefly into Gaven’s face.

 

Gaven’s eyes were finally closed but there was a glint of wetness to them, just enough to glisten off Gaven’s lashes in the dim light.

 

“Hey,” Julian said stroking the side of Gaven’s face to comfort him. “Look at me. You did well. You always do so well with those kinds of situations. You saved me.”

 

Julian tugged at Gaven so that he’d settle lower on the bed so that Julian was level with his face and waited for him to look at him. Gaven’s eyes were somewhat bigger than an average human’s and for the first time, Julian found it a pity that he’d agreed to have his appearance changed for the sake of anonymity. He wondered at that moment what Gaven’s eyes really looked like and just what shade of green they really were. 

 

Julian held Gaven’s gaze and then rubbed their foreheads slowly together. “You always save me.”

 

Gaven smiled a thin closed-lip smile despite himself letting the sides of their noses bump together. “Someone has to look out for you. You’re always running headlong into things all the time without a care.”

 

“Ah. I run headlong because I care.” Julian corrected him. A buzzy pleasant heaviness was starting to override Julian’s sleepiness. Their lips were so excruciatingly close to each other now. “I would really like to kiss you again. Properly this time.”

 

“If I’m honest, you didn’t really do it improperly the first...”  Gaven was promptly cut off.

 

Their faces were so close anyway it required little effort to close the bit of space between them. 

 

Julian was a great deal gentler this time when their lips touched once more. Gaven had quite a large nose requiring Julian to tilt his head slightly to the side, but their mouths were similarly thin as they came together in a mixture of angles. The first real kiss between them was sweet and chaste. Julian made sure to move as slowly and deliberately as possible waiting to feel any sign of Gaven wanting to disengage.

 

Gaven inhaled and held his breath. His hands had been anchored to the sides of Julian’s narrow waist but were now slowly shifting to press around to the base of his back. Julian had been off to the side of Gaven leaning over him at a high angle but unsatisfied with this position, Gaven eventually dropped one arm under Julian’s rear and pulled him more center so that their torsos were flush, and Julian could rest his legs snuggly between Gaven’s. This show of strength caused Julian to grunt in the back of his throat. Gaven slid his other hand up Julian’s back and over one shoulder to cup his jaw just as his oxygen requirements forced him to break their kiss by Gaven pulling his face off to the side. He then let his breath out in a long whoosh and took another few deep breath back in through his nose.

 

“What is it?” Julian asked patiently. He could feel Gaven’s heart racing, but it was less like passion and more like panic.

 

“I’m sorry. It’s always like this the first time it seems.” Gaven said. He pulled his hand away from Julian’s face to press his thumb and pointer to either side of his own temples.

 

“What does it feel like?” Julian asked evenly.

 

“Like falling. Endlessly falling.” Gaven admitted as he pulled his hand away from his face to look at Julian once more. “This will pass for me. Just give me some time.”

 

“Do you see me going anywhere?” Julian said rhetorically. “I can wait for you to become comfortable with this. Being in love must be awfully hard for a species that constantly dissociates from their experiences.”

 

“The purging process is designed to protect us,” Gaven remarked.

 

“Yet you seem to utilize it so rarely,” Julian observed.

 

Gaven nodded. “Allowing myself to feel everything and remember those feelings and my experiences might be frightening at times but...I can’t imagine things any other way.”

 

“Seems like an emotional kind of edging or a touch of sadomasochism, either way,” Julian muttered.

 

“Sado-” Gaven tried to translate the word into his understanding but failed. “What to try again, doctor?”

 

“It’s a psychological tendency to derive pleasure or stimulus from the infliction or reception of pain or humiliation. On a level, you essentially enjoy the way these experiences make you feel regardless of whether they are negative or positive feelings.” Julian explained.

 

“Interesting. I’ll have to think about it and give you my rebuttal later.” Gaven muttered.

 

“Do you want me to stop pushing for now?” Julian asked, his head felt muggy from his slowly waxing desire.

 

Gaven heard the vulnerable uncertainty in Julian’s question. His response was, in part to firmly wrap his arms around Julian and in one fluid motion flip their positions in the bed. 

 

“How about we do a little revisiting of the past instead. You were right earlier when you questioned how it was that I couldn’t know how you felt. I did know...or I thought...It was that day in the Holo-suite when you almost had your fall.” Gaven reminded him.

 

“That was the first time you really let me in,” Julian said thickly, remembering.

 

“It was also the first time you pushed me away. I didn’t understand at first what had happened. What I had done. But I felt you react to me. Just like you're reacting right now. It’s taken me all this time to recognize what it meant.” Gaven moved his hands down Julian’s shoulders and the length of his arms to grip Julian’s wrists, pressing them steadily into the mattress as he straddled his thighs holding Julien in place.

 

“Close your eyes for me.” Gaven directed.

 

When Julian did, Gaven grunted in satisfaction and bent forward. He then pressed his mouth to Julian’s, and to Julian’s surprise Gaven pulled back just enough to run his tongue along the crease of Julian’s lips before dipping his tongue between them to flick at the edge of his teeth in search of the subtle tip of Julian’s tongue. When he found it Gaven deepened their kiss drawing an audible sigh from the back of Julian’s throat as Julian briefly flexed his abductor muscles in order to test the strength of Gaven’s hold on his wrists.

 

Gaven’s hold was ironclad it appeared.

 

Scoffing in his own throat at Julian’s feeble attempts to test the restraining hold he had him in, Gaven drug his lips from Julian’s mouth and down of over the edge of his chin down the front right of his throat. All the while Gaven made tiny sucking motions with his mouth.

 

“Gaven, I’m really sensitive along there...I…” Julian warned him.

 

“Peace, Doctor.” Gaven muttered, utterly ignoring Julian’s alarm as he moved on with his mouth. 

 

Returning to his plans Gaven followed the path of Julian’s sternohyoid and over the right side of his pectoralis. Stopping only long enough to make fine lazy rings around Julian’s pert left nipple with the flat of his tongue. Julian squirmed occasionally but remained mostly silent with his eyes at times firmly closed. Onward Gaven trolled. Settling over the center of Julian’s compact abdominals as he dragged his mouth in a straight line down the center. 

 

When Gaven got to Julian’s navel he hesitated and pulled back enough to study it. Gaven felt his head swim over such a seemingly small anatomical difference between them. This was his favorite part of the human anatomy. The human navel was essentially a unique scar upon the abdomen formed after the birthing process when the umbilical cord connecting the mammalian fetus to its carrier and for which it received all its nutrients for development up until birth was severed. Many humanoid species had them he had discovered in his time as a doctor on the station. Gaven did not.

 

Julian’s navel was rounded like a button and depressed with a small, knotted bump along the lower edge. Gaven had seen it many times but had never been able to touch it so intimately. The thought was almost too much for him and he had to quickly shut his own eyes and remind himself of his present purposes. He could feel his abdominal slits engorge along their edges as they began to become erotically tender. Breathing out through his mouth in a huffy puff, Gaven tentatively lowered his mouth back down engulfing the space around Julian's navel to trace and tongue its indention. 

 

Julian groaned at this maneuver, sensing Gaven’s strange fixation upon it. Julian extended his low abdominal muscle out causing his skin to rise and press more firmly against Gaven’s mouth. Once, twice, and again. Gaven pressed his forehead into Julian’s solar plexus and shut his eyes. His breath ragged as he tried to maintain his control. He wasn’t done with his explorations yet.

 

Through the entirety of this Julian’s cock was painfully hard and full in its glory. But similarly, he did his best to ignore it.

 

When Gaven eventually moved on and took the edge of Julian’s silky briefs between his teeth, Julian did pay a bit more attention.

 

“Gaven, you know what you're doing don’t you?” He asked in a husky fashion.

 

“Not really. But I think I can figure it out well enough. Did you have any objections?” Gaven asked as he looked up to see Julian watching him with heavy-lidded passion.

 

“No.” Julian conceded.

 

“Good. Do let me know if you change your mind.” Gaven muttered with the rim of Julian’s briefs still between his teeth.

 

With the utmost care, Gaven stretched and guided the material up and over Julian’s erect shaft and tucked it to the best of his abilities under his scrotum. He then took a moment to consider his options and to weigh possible outcomes. 

 

Both men had seen each other’s intimates before. Gaven had an even deeper awareness of aspects of Julian’s body given his specific abilities. Although Gaven’s unique understanding did not specifically extend to Julian’s sexual functions and responses at this point, he had enough training regarding humans from a scientific perspective to get the general points.

 

Still, there was nothing like a little direct experience.

 

Julian was good and kept his eyes shut, trusting that Gaven would fare well enough. He was, however, entirely unprepared when Gaven took the head and a good inch of his shaft into his mouth and flattened his tongue into a wide edged fan and fluttered it like a silky warm wet fan brushing across the top of the head and along the sides. The sensation was subtle and fast but like Julian’s wrists being kept captive Gaven very much had a solid hold on Julian’s cock as well.

 

“Whaaat is that?” The words were strung out in a breathy gasp that Gaven utterly ignored as he felt Julian squirm and quiver underneath him.

 

Good. Gaven thought to himself. Let me teach him something today.

 

His own eyes were open as Gaven watched and tracked Julian’s movements, expressions and sounds. Anything that would help direct him in his experiment. Satisfied with his progress Gaven took Julian’s circumcised cock more completely into his mouth making a hollow area near the back of his throat so that when he pressed downwards the head of Julian’s cock would rub satisfactorily against the back of his throat. He then manipulated his tongue into a thin fine point and nearly corkscrewed it around Julian’s shaft.

 

This time Julian flat out groaned in a mixture of confusion and pleasure. If he ever happened to forget from time to time that despite appearances Gaven wasn’t human, there was no mistaking that this magical form of oral dexterity was purely unique to him. There was such a diversity of sensation that Gaven didn’t even really need to move his mouth much. His tongue and the back of his throat was doing most of the leg work. Julian was almost afraid to move much. Not that he could have if he’d wanted to with the other man sprawled across him and holding him down like he was. Gaven was certainly strong. While it had always been assumed that he just kept himself exceedingly well conditioned, it never occurred to anyone that he might simply have more muscle mass and quantity in general. Julian was too distracted to try and remember just how many differences were documented in Gaven’s secret medical records. 

 

“Gaven if you keep this up, I’m not going to hold out much longer. If you're alright with that then you’d better squeeze my hands or something because...really...By the Prophet's how the Hell are you doing that?...No, I mean, I need to know.” Julian huffed.

 

Now he was openly looking at Gaven as the men locked eyes in a kind of mental battle for dominance that Julian was flat out destined to lose.

 

“Gaven, as hot as this is I...Aaand good lord…-elongated groan-...You damn mischievous thing...I really would much prefer to…”

 

Be in control? I just bet you’d love to be, doctor. Gaven slowed his pace a little, settling on a soft buzzing that would keep the stimulus continuous but not push too hard just yet.

 

“I mean...I would much prefer being close to you then only like this. You're...more to me...than just this.”  Julian pleaded softly.

 

This labored remark caused Gaven to slow as his eyes narrowed in Julian’s direction. He saw truth reflecting at him and pondered the strangeness it bespoke. Gaven loosened his grip on Julian’s right wrist mostly so he could slowly ease off Julian’s shaft and replace the stimulus of his mouth with a slow and steady hand.

 

“Am I?” Gaven asked as he pulled him completely from his mouth and rested his chin flat on the side of Julian’s pelvis.

 

Julian felt something in his body and heart break a little at the realization that Gaven was genuinely asking him. Even though he was still gently stroking his still quite agitated cock, a soft warm look came into Julian’s eyes that were less desire and more compassion. Shaking out his hand lightly Julian hooked the edge of Gaven’s jaw and tugged drawing him slowly back up his body till about the middle of his chest. Gaven’s throat was directly over Julian’s heart now and Julian knew he could feel the rapid consistent beat as clearly as he could feel the engorged pulsation of Julian’s cock through his hand.

 

“Yes, Sweetheart. Of course you are. Of course you are. Come here to me.” Julian opened his other hand that Gaven still had by the wrist and opened it so that he could equally encircle Gaven’s wrist as well. “My love and want of you is more than just passion and need. I will take those things from you if you are willing to give them, but I want so much more of you than all that.”

 

Gaven came more fully against him now and they were back to facing each other again as Julian shifted them to his right so that they could lay side by side with one of Gaven’s hands still between them and his other now laced in Julian’s fingers.

 

Julian stroked Gaven’s face. A lump was forming in the back of his throat as he pressed his lips softly to Gaven’s and forced himself to pull back again. 

 

“There is nothing you have to prove to me. Nothing you have to do or say with me unless you want to.” Julian assured him. “I want to learn how to please you too. I know you’re different from me. Please don’t shut me out.”

 

“It’s hard for me to breathe out of the water, Julian. I believe you believe these things, but I don’t believe you fully understand what you're promising. So, while I hear you, don’t plan on me holding you to them just yet. Let us agree to take this...Moment to moment, as you suggested, and see .” Gaven said diplomatically.

 

“Finish now for me, Doctor. Or else we’ll never sleep.” Gaven muttered as he flicked his thumb across the head of Julian’s cock while also rhythmically rolling his abdomen along with their pressing bodies.

 

Sidelong, they could rub and flex against each other to their heart's content. Slow, deliberate, and comforting.

 

When he felt Julian coming close to his climax Gaven kissed him deeply and rolled his flexible tongue in a swift swirling motion around Julian’s matching the pressure upon Julian’s cock. It was enough to finally push Julian over the edge into a rolling orgasm that was one of the longest of his life to date. Through it all, Gaven stayed with him never breaking their kiss as Julian spilled his seed across their abdomens with all the potency and vigor of fertile youth.

 

Now they were both falling. Towards what exactly neither was to know. For the moment though they were falling together and at the same rate of speed. Eventually, as they touched lips, palms, and centers again and again; Gaven’s eyes eventually settled shut into true repose. In response, Julian merely groped for the blanket that had fallen beside the bed and pulled it over them before he smoothed the dark curls out of Gaven’s eyes. In his arms like this Gaven looked young and vital as well as both strong and entirely too delicate.

 

Julian had thought about this first blush of intimate openness for a long time, but he’d not been prepared for how poignant the real thing would really be. The victory of their closeness was not entirely sweet, however. Gaven had been sure to instill a warning shot that told Julian he did not entirely trust what was happening between them. However, that problem was for another night on another day. For now, Julian was content to hold them together with the evidence of his passion serving as the primary glue between them. It would have to serve until Julian could offer Gaven something better and more in line with what Gaven deserved.

Chapter 45: Alien Interplay

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Five: Alien Interplay

 

Several hours later Julian stirred in bed. Even before he opened his eyes he could smell and feel the subtle heaviness in his bedroom that came with another’s intimate presence. The musk of their bed-play still hung in the air and permeated the sheets underneath him. Notes of roses and Juniper mingled with Julian’s musk.

 

I should take him somewhere green soonTo Bajor perhaps to see the hanging gardens. He’d like that, I’m sure. Julian reminded himself. 

 

It occurred to him that Garak was right about Gaven’s environmental needs. Almost all Gaven’s life had been lived on a planet in a standard Oum community. Julian had heard him mention forests and mountains before and Julian admitted it was easier to picture Gaven napping among grasses and clover under a cheerful sun than locked away on a dank station cast out in the perpetual darkness of space. 

 

In the night Gaven had eventually turned over onto his side facing away from Julian while Julian had slept flat on his stomach with his left arm draped over Gaven’s chest. Julian turned his face towards Gaven and studied his broad shoulders and long torso. Even in the dull light he could see the residual bruising around the wound Fisk had closed and sealed from the assassin's rifle shot at the tournament. The memory made Julian frown. As much as Gaven claimed to hate Wittle he had still moved to protect him, both really, from the rifle shot since his positioned had interrupted the assassin’s ability to directly target either of them without Gaven obstructing the shot.

 

He also thought of the many stories Gaven had told him about his life and his youth. From these stories Julian had started to piece together an imaginary composite of Gaven. How he likely would have been sullen, shy, but terribly kind and gentle as well as a painstakingly obedient youth. Born to serve and only to serve. Julian frowned deeper at the spoken phrase as fresh dislike of the Oum culture such as he understood it to be pecked at the edges of his morality. It seemed all just a terrible waste.

 

Julian pulled his hand over Gaven’s side to gently trace around the wide edges of the bruising and then up cupping the curve of his left shoulder and neck pressing to rub a firm small circle into the hard muscle there.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gaven asked as Julian’s touch gently pulled him out of his repose.

 

“I’m sorry I disturbed you. I just,” Julian hesitated. “I still can’t believe you are here with me right now like this.”

 

Gaven exhaled a yawn before Gingerly rolling on to his back. “If I hadn't come over last night we might have fought for days or weeks without reconciliation. I might have been upset but I didn’t want that to happen this time. What if we stopped talking again and I had to leave in the meantime?”

 

Julian heard Gaven sigh anxiously. 

 

“Listen to me. Even if you’d chosen to stay away last night, we would have mended things between us by morning. I would have come back for you.” Julian propped himself up on his side and rubbed at Gaven’s jawline with his thumb.

 

“Maybe.” Gaven said. “The point is that for once I didn’t want to leave it to chance.” 

 

Gaven smiled at his own words causing Julian to suddenly chuckle. 

 

“Alright. Maybe I wouldn’t have come right back.” Julian conceded. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”

 

“About us?” Gaven arched a brow but the soft expression was still on his face. “I admit coupling like this...It’s out of the realm of my exact understanding. I don’t really know what I’m doing but I find myself in a position that is difficult to ignore.”

 

Julian’s amusement extinguished just a little.

 

 There it was again. A subtle anxiety and deflection in Gaven’s words. The last thing Julian wanted was for Gaven to feel an obligation to him as if by sharing mutual romantic feelings Gaven had to relent and agree to be with him over them.

 

“Gaven there’s no set rules here. If there’s anything you want or don’t want out of our interactions, I need you to tell me.” Julian supportively said.

 

Gaven sighed and took Julian’s hand from his jaw and set it flat against his abdomen covering Julian’s hand with his own. “I don’t want you to center your world around me, Julian. You have friends and an entire life that still needs your regular attention.”

 

Julian pressed his lips in consideration of his words. He could feel heat radiating through his hand. Gaven’s body temperature was naturally higher than his own, but the heat he felt was more compact and centered intimately over the heavily muscled wall that beyond protected the womb that Julian had painstakingly helped Gaven preserve. The reminder of this set a buzzy sensation behind Julian’s nose that made it momentarily hard for him to concentrate. 

 

“Alright. Now tell me something you do want?” Julian asked. 

 

“I want you to understand who and what I am.” Gaven admitted.

 

“How?” Julian firmly asked.

 

“Go get my med bag. I left it by the door when I came in.” Gaven said quietly.

 

“You brought it with you? Why?” Julian asked.

 

“Just go get it for me.” Gaven pressed.

 

Julian reluctantly pulled away from him and slipped out of the bed. Once he did Gaven sighed and pressed his eyes shut willing himself to take the step he’d been contemplating through the night as Julian slept. His thigh and shoulder still ached partially from the strain of their bed play and because he had not sought out the deep restorative sleep that he ought to have in the night. Gaven forced himself to sit up and pull his legs to the floor intending to carefully get to his feet. He was stiff but now determined in his efforts.

 

When Julian came back into the room, he waited at the foot of the bed. 

 

 Gaven limped over to him.

 

“Gaven, that leg…”

 

“Yes, yes. I haven’t forgotten my promise, Doctor. You’ll get your chance to fix it in due time. My med bag, please.”

 

Julian handed it to him and when Gaven took it he placed it on the end of the bed and opened it before rummaging slowly through it. 

 

“As you know, Doctor. Before I came to the station, I agreed to allow myself to be cosmetically altered to better pass as a human. Among other things my eye pigment and my Oum complexion was suppressed and other aspects were completely altered. Many of these alterations are not easily reversed. However, Doctor Fisk and I, in our private sessions, decided that it might be important one day to remind myself and potentially others that what they presently see is the mask and not the person. I can’t change much on the fly, but we did fix up a little something that could be used as a temporary glimpse. It’s not much but...I thought perhaps it would come in handy one day.” Gaven explained pulling out a hypo-injector and a cartridge. 

 

“It’ll only last a few hours. Did you want to do the honors?” Gaven loaded the injector and offered it to Julian.

 

“Are you sure?” Julian asked, his tone turning husky.

 

“You asked me what I wanted, Julian. Right now, this is what I want.” Gaven assured him.

 

Julian took the hypo-injector from him and stepped in close so that their bare chests nearly met. Julian swallowed and with one hand gently tilted Gaven’s jaw to the left, rubbing a subtle caress into his jawline with his thumb. He then positioned the hypo-injector and with painstaking care pressed it to his exposed throat and pulled the trigger.

 

A subtle quick woosh was heard until the mechanism clicked indicating that the cartridge had finished. Julian immediately discarded the hypo-injector onto the nearby bed and grasped Gaven behind his ears guiding his face straight on so that Julian could carefully monitor whatever was going to happen. One finger was strategically placed upon Gaven’s pulse point as the blocking catalyst absorbed into Gaven’s blood stream.

 

Gaven blinked slowly and took one deep breath after another as he held Julian at the waist and internally tracked the catalysts progress. As it slowly swept through his blood stream as had happened before every main blood vessel and artery turned visibly black under his skin and gradually over the course of several minutes the human like warm hues in Gaven’s complexion began to mute as his skin tone gradually took on a translucent silver hue with a subtle blue undertone. Silverish specks where some might have naturally had freckles or skin discoloration from the sun became visible and the rims of Gaven’s eyes as well as the inner side of his lips turned a coal hue. Although his eye pigment remained suppressed there was a certain fire in them that hinted at their real vibrance.

 

For the most part Julian’s gaze had been locked on Gaven’s eyes as he searched for any sign of undue distress. Although he knew from Gaven’s medical files that he’d been altered, Julian had not been made a part of the process nor had he known about whatever had been going on between Gaven and Remi. It seemed when Jeremiah had encouraged Gaven to seek his counsel, Gaven had taken him up on it.

 

“Well?” Gaven said at length in a breathy manner.

 

At his prompting Julian allowed his focus to disperse as he actually looked into Gaven’s face. The effect was notably different than how he was used to seeing the man. Furthermore, in his recollection Julian realized he’d never seen anyone with quite the same kind of coloring outside of some ancient and obscure medical references very rarely found in certain human blood abnormalities.

 

“You look...Like you. You’re marvelous. You’ve always been so, but...Now I can see you. Darling, wouldn’t you rather go on as yourself all the time? I know not all of the alterations could be reversible but…” Julian asked, caught up in a kind of reverence that actually caused tears to brick at his eyes.

 

“No. In many ways it’s safer to suppress my heritage. While it’s known now that I’m not human, looking more like one may protect me and my people from unwanted exposure and attention.” Gaven explained.

Julian huffed. “It’s a wonder how you can so devoutly want to protect people who just threw you away the way the Oum did.” 

 

“It was my choice, Julian. I asked to be expelled into space. It wasn’t decided for me. My people are more merciful than you can possibly imagine. Can you not at least appreciate that in my exile I have found my way to you?” Gaven reasoned.

 

“Damn it. Why do you have to make such a good point at a time like this?” Julian quipped.

 

Gaven grunted and tugged Julian more firmly against him leaning down slightly to kiss him. 

 

Julian let his hands fall away from Gaven’s face and to the small of his own back to cover Gaven’s hands.  They mutually deepened their kiss, their tongues slowly probing and mingling together in lazy measure. 

 

Eventually Julian pulled away creating enough space between them for Julian to put his left hand flat against the center of Gaven’s chest.

 

“Gaven, I meant what I said earlier. I know we’re different…” Julian began.

 

Gaven made a throaty sound. He knew well enough what Julian was trying to ask him and there was some internal debate about how best to proceed if Gaven planned to enlighten the Doctor further. So far, the present expression of their intimacy was satisfying enough for him. But Gaven considered the fact that Julian would be displeased if he felt their dynamic catered too far one way. Certainly, there were many layers to the intimacy Gaven could produce between them and yet he found himself struggling to allow Julian complete access to his deepest most feelings. In any other time or place it would have been utterly inconceivable to engage anyone like this at all. Not unless Gaven was fully bonded to his partner chemically and empathically.

 

Gaven shut his eyes briefly and ended his internal argument. He then let go of one side of Julian’s waist and grasped his wrist slowly sliding Julian’s palms down his chest towards his abdomen. “During early arousal, the edges of my...Operculum...become erotically sensitive. Beyond the rim small secretion sacs fill and if pressed secrete a viscous mucus that…”

 

Julian’s fingertips gently brushed the edge of Gaven’s right abdominal slit. He could feel the inner ridge slowly begin to engorge under his touch. He could also feel Gaven’s grip on his wrist soften and his fingers press more firmly into the side of Julian’s narrow waist. He then heard Gaven audibly exhale and press his brow bone into the side of Julian’s scalp. This reaction was deeply exciting for Julian although he tried to keep his excitement in check until he fully understood all the potential mechanics involved in what Gaven was showing him.

 

Julian lingered along Gaven’s slit for a long time stroking and rubbing subtly along the smooth firm edge until he felt Gaven encourage him to penetrate the somewhat tight opening his hand still on Julian’s wrist. Julian could feel the secretion sacs forming on the under lip of Gaven’s slit. The sac membranes were semi firm and slightly textured reminding Julian in feel of the erogenous Grafenberg spot, so notorious to human women. 

 

“What would happen, Gaven?” Julian prompted him in a hushed tone.

 

Encouraged to continue his explanation, Gaven audibly swallowed. “They secrete a viscous mucus with a unique pheromone laced odor that aids in relaxing the cervical canal and softens the external cervix.”

 

“For what purposes?” Julian’s head was spinning. It was hard to fully translate the biological aspects Gaven was referring to, but Julian was starting to understand some of it now.

 

Gaven’s sex organs were internal and could only be accessed through the correct kind of sexual stimulation or cuing. It was unclear if Gaven could initiate aspects of the process independently and consciously but for now this question was less important. 

 

“For mating purposes.” Gaven remarked.

 

This caused Julian to pause as he retracted his hand slowly. Careful of the engorged sacs. “Gaven, maybe I should stop-”

 

Julian suddenly heard Gaven emit a soft chuckle. “You’re not at risk of impregnating me, Doctor. The conditions aren’t right for that sort of thing, rest assured. And, um, you are not really properly equipped for me to impregnate you so…”

 

Julian scoffed and significantly blushed. “Well...I don’t know everything, now do I? Once everything is...Well, I mean...How much control do you have over…” Julian turned an even deeper red as he mumbled his poorly framed questions.

 

“Oh, a fair amount. Would you care to find out for yourself, Doctor?” There was a tinge of amusement in Gaven’s tone as well as a subtle wisp of insecurity.

 

He thinks I’m going to reject him. Julian realized. He’s tensing even now in anticipation that I might actually deny him.

 

Julian did at this time pull his hand gently away but before Gaven could react to it he pulled Gaven into a firm embrace.

 

“Gods you’re amazing.” He said on an exhale as he pressed his eyes into the hollow of Gaven’s throat.  

 

Gaven cupped the back of Julian’s head and his arm snaked around his upper back as he pressed his lips firmly into the highest part of Julian’s forehead. 

 

Julian felt hot fat tears slowly dripping into the top of his hairline. There it was, that mysterious pain of Gaven’s again.

 

“It pleases me that you think so, Julian.” Gaven said into his hair.

 

“You must be so stiff from all this damn standing. Let me give you something for your pain and then come and shower with me. I would like to take care of you today.” Julian requested. 

 

“As you like. But we should prepare our statements today. It’s highly likely we will be asked to relay them to the Task Force when they arrive.” Gaven reminded Julian.

 

“Later, Gaven. Let this time be for us.” Julian insisted.

 

Eventually, Julian pulled out of their embrace and then he helped Gaven sit down upon the end of the bed. It was clear he was indeed quite stiff and sore and with his adjusted complexion the healing wound on his shoulder looked monstrous.

 

Julian retrieved his own medical bag and programmed his own hypo-injector. “I can’t believe Remi didn’t go over that bruising with a regenerator."

 

“There were alot of people with minor injuries and once the wound was closed, I was angry enough to encourage him to move along to care for the others while I stewed.” Gaven admitted. 

 

“As angry as I saw you when I arrived, I can’t imagine you even more agitated.” Julian mused.

 

‘It’s rare and I’m not pleased about my conduct. I’m only glad the ordeal is nearly over now.” Gaven muttered, holding still while Julian administered a moderate pain reliever.

 

“I still want to explain.” Julian muttered softly. “I feel I owe you that much and I would rather you hear it from me than read about it somewhere.”

 

“Mr. Odo remarked to me that I should, perhaps, hear you out.” Gaven remarked. “Come and sit with me while you do it.”

 

Julian did and after a while both men leaned back onto the bed while Julian went over a swift abbreviated history of his relationship to Conrad Wittle and the events that transpired once they ran into each other on accident on the station.

 

“So,” Gaven said a while later. “This whole thing can be chalked up to an instance of fate.”

 

“Of all the stations in the whole of the Galaxy, Conrad Wittle had to walk onto mine.” Julian muttered, referencing an old Earth film that went right over Gaven’s head.

 

“Does it embarrass you that you loved such a man?” Gaven asked.

 

“Yes.” Julian admitted. “No matter how I try to look at it I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that having loved someone like him reflects badly on my character.”

 

Gaven sighed. “You can’t control who you love, Julian. And I don’t think less of you for it. For your capacity to love someone.” 

 

Julian turned on his side and curled into Gaven on his good side. “Are you feeling better?”

 

“Yes.” Gaven assured him as he clasped Julian’s hand between them. 

 

Julian squeezed it before bringing it to his lips to press a kiss into Gaven’s palm. “You’re very beautiful. Resilient…”

 

“Yes. I’m sure I’m quite difficult as well.” Gaven added for him.

 

“I prefer you when you're challenging.” Julian muttered.

 

“Lies don't become you.” Gaven quipped softly.

 

“Come on. It’s time for that shower I mentioned.” Julian sat up and began to pull Gaven up with him. 

 

Gaven took his assistance as they got to their feet and Julian padded on ahead of him to start the water and warm it for them. 

 

While he was gone Gaven hesitated and brought the palm Julian had kissed to his face. Subtle fear tightened in his chest over the wisdom of lingering as long as he was. Gaven had argued and protested his conduct with Julian for months. After all the angst and inner turmoil, here he was now throwing all his many internal arguments and fearful condemnations away.

 

 For the briefest of moments something wild in Gaven cautioned him to escape. But an even more demanding part of him that was more need than reason, twisted painfully inside him. The pain was both familiar and new. It was a terrible thing to feel alone within one’s personal universe. The pain of disconnection weighed heavily upon Gaven just then. To be apart from what was the most meaningful was a terrible burden indeed. And for once, like so many years ago, Gaven couldn’t abide it. 

 

It was imperative that he give in this moment because it was possible that fate would ensure they never got the opportunity again.

 

When Gaven finally followed Julian’s path into the bathroom, Julian saw an apprehensive and aloof shyness in his face. With his alien coloring now visible he looked genuinely like a fairy prince straight out of a Shakespearean fantasy.

 

Julian nudged down his briefs and kicked them aside. He then held out his hand.

 

“It’s going to be alright, Gaven. Trust in me.” Julian urged him over the sound of the spray and through the slowly accumulating steam.

 

Gaven sighed and nodded before loosening his own trousers and letting them fall in the doorway. Now naked in all his strange glory Gaven approached the shower and as Julian held the transparent door for him, he stepped into the stream feeling Julian follow him and close the door behind them.

 

The shower was not terribly big, but it was comfortable enough for two people to not feel crowded in. Gaven faced the back wall and pressed his hands against the polished metal, closing his eyes to savor the warm stream raining down over him. For Julian’s part he seemed to be all business as he lathered a hand cloth and first wiped himself down before rinsing it clean and lathering it for Gaven. Julian then began to scrub at Gaven’s back, mindful to be gentle around his shoulders. He worked down and then back up one bicep then the other and repeated his endeavor from Gaven’s thighs down to his shins adding more lather as he went along. All the while Julian managed to avoid Gaven’s chest and abdomen careful to methodically scrub everywhere else even along the crease of his firm muscular ass.

 

Through all this Gaven periodically felt Julian brush against the inner part of his thighs or subtly along the crease of his ass. Every time Gaven’s fingers arched against the metal wall in knowing awareness of Julian’s methodical thoroughness. Despite the warm spray gooseflesh began to percolate along Gaven’s skin.

 

Sighing lightly Julian finally reached around and with painstaking slowness rubbed the washcloth into Gaven’s chest but Ventured no lower than his serratus anterior.

 

Gaven let his head fall forward as his breath became shallow.

 

Julian’s free hand hovered at Gaven’s right hip as he leaned forward just barely keeping their slick bodies apart.

 

He then brought his chin remarkably close along the left side of Gaven’s face. “Gaven it’s very important that you tell me what you want from me right now. I won't guess or presume to know your mind.”

Gaven shivered as Julian spoke, but despite the wash of all his insecurities that were blossoming through him just then, he did manage to speak.

 

“I ache for you, Julian. Inside and out. I feel so wretched and alone. We may not be able to join as I have with others, but if you help me, we can come as close as flesh within flesh.” Gaven said.

 

“That’ll do for now.” Julian agreed, finally closing the remaining space between their slick bodies, before pressing his mouth to the back of Gaven’s good shoulder as he slowly tongued away the beads of water.

 

Julian let go of the washcloth letting it fall to the corner of the shower as he slid his hands in a massaging manner along Gaven’s sides. Eventually Julian dipped his right hand down between Gaven’s legs feeling the hard muscular mound of his smooth mons pubis. As was expected, it had no immediately discernible opening but they both knew his opening was simply contracted pin tight and as Julian explored, he could feel the smallest of openings just as he expected there to be per his own observations and by Gaven’s own description of his anatomy. Julian indulged himself a few seconds and allowed his hand to rub in long movements back and forth along Gaven’s mound nearly to the somewhat more malleable muscle of his anus which Julian planned to largely ignore for the time being. 

 

The stimulus was not completely wasted upon Gaven who sighed and cooed now and again in response to his caresses. 

 

Finally, Julian eased both has hands up over Gaven’s pelvis and finally teased him once more along the edges of both his abdominal slits. 

 

Gaven groaned and shuddered, bracing his hands more firmly against the wall. 

 

Julian continued to tease him eventually setting all four of his fingertips along the edge of both slits as he slowly curled and uncurled his fingers along their edge. All the while he was careful not to actually put direct pressure on the engorged sacs that he could feel occasionally graze his fingertips.

 

After a while Gaven settled in a more relaxed position allowing his back to arch and his neck to curve back along Julian’s shoulder. 

 

“I take it those pain meds are in full effect?” Julian murmured against his ear as he took a moment to reposition so that he could more easily take Gaven’s weight against him.

 

“You might consider giving me a bit more credit than that.”  Gaven muttered. “I’m not entirely broken down. Yet anyway.”

 

“Alright, old man. I’m sure you’re perfectly spry.” Julian teased as he nipped along Gaven’s throat.

 

“Spry enough to keep you out of harm's way when it matters.” Gaven reminded him.

 

“Mmhm.” Julian agreed only half listening as he tried to focus.

 

When he finally applied significant pressure to the engorged sacs along Gaven’s slits, he felt Gaven’s body tense and his breath catch. Worried he’d mis-stepped somehow, Julian began to ease off but was promptly redirected by Gaven.

 

“No. Keep the pressure firm until the pheromone reaction completes.” Gaven interjected sharply and he dropped his left hand from the shower wall to cover Julian’s. “There. Just like that…”

 

Julian’s breathing turned slightly ragged. “But how do I know…”

 

Suddenly Julian felt a warm oozing between his fingertips as profoundly strong scent of roses and juniper engulfed his nostrils to the exclusion of anything else. As this happened, he felt Gaven gradually slide Julian’s fingers deeper into his abdominal slits encouraging him to mimic the movement on both sides. Julian rested his chin on Gaven’s left shoulder momentarily unconcerned over which side was uninjured and shut his eyes. Eventually, he felt Gaven pull his own hand away and curl his arm backward to press his hand to the side of Julian’s face. The oozing mucus around Julian’s fingers made the otherwise tight slits easier to slide between and slowly Julian found he could slide nearly the whole of his hands into the abdominal openings. It was then that it occurred to Julian that the slit openings met in a kind of muscled pouch. If he were to be ever so careful Julian was certain he could touch his fingertips together inside Gaven and the idea was intoxicatingly erotic. 

 

Even with the mucus serving as a lubricant the space around his hand was taunt. Nevertheless, Julian proceeded on until his fingertips did indeed touch a slightly knit together.

 

Gaven openly moaned, finally dropping his other hand from the wall to lay it over his abdominal muscles with Julian’s hands sandwiched inside him. He then subtly encouraged Julian to press in and when he did, he felt Gaven minutely grind into the pressure of his touch.

 

Thoroughly enthralled by this Julian groaned as well as he pressed his erect cock to the side of Gaven’s thigh and rubbed against him. As he did this, he felt something soft and equally gooey descend over the side of his shaft. Julian opened his eyes and saw a purplish tube of muscled tissue presently the width and length of an old-fashioned toothpaste tube briefly hang down before it moved with tentacle-like control back and forth.

 

At length Gaven sighed and pulled his left hand from the side of Julian’s face down between his legs to cup the tubular shaft in his hands. “Congratulations, doctor. You’ve done very well. Now you have only to decide how you’d like to proceed.”

 

“Are you telling me you have full autonomy over…” Julian muttered.

 

“Yes.” Gaven breathed, demonstrating as he slid his hand to the end of the tubular organ and began to penetrate it at the tip. The tube easily expanded widthwise to accommodate his ministrations. At one point seeming to briefly fold in on itself. “I have every ability to sleeve, penetrate, or invert and any combination thereof.”

 

For once Julian was at a complete loss for words as his mind reeled and his head swam briefly. 

 

Grunting, Gaven decided for him and with an elongated groan slowly retracted Julian’s hands from his abdominal slits so he could finally turn around to face him. “Trust me, Julian.”

 

Julian locked eyes with Gaven as he felt the man wrap a pale hand around the base of Julian’s cock guiding its head to align with the tubular tip of Gaven’s organ. Julian suddenly groaned loudly as the tube of flesh began to tighten snugly around the head if Julian’s cock and roll itself in an inverting fashion as it pulled Julian into Gaven before relaxing it’s hold enough for Julian to naturally move inside Gaven as he felt inclined. The pressure around his cock was exquisite although slightly uncomfortable. “Gaven...This…”

 

Gaven walked them backwards a step so that he could brace his back against the shower wall and equalize their height while Julian cupped his buttocks and continued to smooth out his rhythm. 

 

Gaven still seemed to have a pretty good hold on Julian’s cock necessitating very minimal thrusting unless Julian wanted to. This again proved somewhat limiting since Gaven's tubular hold on Julian was still a bit firm. “Gaven. I can’t…” 

 

Panting, Gaven shut his eyes and sighed. “Give me a second.”

 

A moment later Gaven slid a hand between their bodies and with a sharp breath initiated a one-sided link which effectively allowed him to more acutely sync with Julian’s biological responses and adjust to his physical needs.

 

The effect was damn near perfect for both. It was for Julian because he found the pressure between them adjust to a fine degree allowing Julian to fully chase his pleasure. Meanwhile the link allowed Gaven to anticipate Julian’s needs and trace his sexual response. If he did this purely for Julian’s benefit instead of opening the linking up in full between the which would have allowed him to share his own responses equally, he did not let on that he was holding back. Barely able to breathe Gaven hooked his other elbow around the back of Julian’s neck and kissed him deeply before filling Julian’s mouth with their tongues and briefly cutting off both their air supply.

 

This was simply too much for Julian as he felt his body shudder and rapidly cum as his vision briefly went spotty to near black and his head abruptly swam. Julian desperately groped for the small sensor that turned the water abruptly off as he reached behind him with his other hand to grope for the handle of the door. It was oppressively hot now and in a final show of strength Julian jerked Gaven backwards as they both fell out of the shower in a tangled heap and onto the comparatively cool bathroom floor. Julian rolled them to the side and finally broke their kiss practically gasping for breath.

 

Gaven likewise panted where he fell his bad shoulder painfully aching and shocking him into breaking the link between them. 

 

“Christ…” Julian wheezed as he felt Gaven’s body let him loose allowing him to fully pull away. “I think I just went momentarily blind...Or...I might have legitimately died for about...Oh...fifteen seconds.”

 

“You didn’t die. I don’t think.” Gaven gasped and then coughed a few times into the floor. 

 

“You mean you're not sure?” Julian huffed.

 

“Um...No. But...Is this really...The time to complain?” Gaven swallowed and groaned as he rolled onto his stomach and simply pressed his forehead into the tiled floor.

 

“Gaven...One of these days...You’re going to have to explain to me...What in the Hell we just did and how we did it. And...When you do...We need to do it...All over again.” Julian proclaimed.

 

Gaven pressed his eyes shut and groped for Julian’s hand. When he found it, he laced his fingers between Julian’s and squeezed it reassuringly.

 

“Your esteem and preference are noted.” Gaven assured him. 

 

Chapter 46: Ominous Reflections

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Six: Ominous Reflections

 

It took a little while for the doctors to recover from their shower experiment and, in the end, they’d taken turns returning to the shower to rinse off and tend to each other’s bumps and bruises. Now they were sitting together in Julian’s living room drinking coffee. Julian had changed into his favorite blue sweater and Gaven was back in his slacks but was wearing one of Julian’s shirts.

 

“So, what else should I know about you that’s not readily apparent in your medical file?” Julian asked a while later that morning.

 

“Well,” Gaven thought the question through. “I’ve got about three times the number of muscles in my tongue than you do…”

 

“Yep. That one I noticed.” Julian popped. “I remember your file saying something about you having a good deal more natural muscle than a human, but it never detailed exactly where.”

 

Gaven nodded knowingly. “I believe my file is intentionally vague about many things. I have fairly good night vision too.”

 

“What about your toxic immunity?” Julian asked.

 

Gaven shrugged.

 

 “It seems I can metabolize many plant and animal-based toxins that other species cannot. I suppose there are exceptions if I were to look for them but...You must realize most vegetation and life on my homeworld is radiated. Apart from plant and animal species living in deep water or underground many of the surface’s animals and vegetation have evolved and adapted making quite a few of them poisonous by most standards.” Gaven explained.

 

Then he slowly smiled. “With that said, I’ve also yet to see a world more structurally complex or with more beautiful aspects.”

 

“You should describe some of them to me some time,” Julian remarked.

 

“I have as a matter of fact.” Gaven replied softly.

 

Julian leaned back into the corner of the sofa where he was curled. His left elbow was propped up on the armrest and tucked under the side of his head with his coffee mug in his other hand hovering over his hip. By contrast, Gaven was seated at the other end facing straight forward. His good leg neatly crossed over the other with his mug in his lap.

 

“When?” Julian asked.

 

Gaven cleared his throat once and glanced sidelong at him. “When you were in your coma, I told you about many things. Places. People. I wasn’t sure you would remember any of it afterward, but it seemed the right thing to do at the time. Better to fill your mind with my memories than leave you stuck with only your own for company.”

 

“I feel like no one ever thanked you for all that.” Julian carefully said. “Everyone should have done more than they did.”

 

“I never saw so many worried people. Everyone wanted to do more for you, but there just wasn’t anything to be done.” Gaven replied.

 

“I wasn’t talking about me.” Julian clarified.

 

Gaven scoffed and looked down into his coffee mug and didn’t immediately reply. “It’s taken me time to make space for myself here. It’s taken time to make friends. I feel now that people do care about me on the station and not just because I’m a Starfleet asset or because I’ve been useful to them personally. I’ve also come to care about them in return.”

 

Julian nodded slowly. “So how many people, do you think, know about what we’re up to?”

 

“By my count? Pretty much everyone. We haven’t exactly been subtle.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Maybe you haven’t.” Julian teased.

 

Gaven shrugged. “I don’t see the value in blatant deception. Besides, you’re a very difficult man to sidestep.”

 

“I’m merely persistent. You sidestepped me pretty effectively in the beginning, as I recall.”

 

Gaven smiled at the reminder as his mind briefly carried him somewhere else other than where he presently was.

 

“Come here.” Julian coaxed.

 

It made Julian anxious when he saw Gaven so easily disappear out of his immediate reach.

 

Gaven held his breath a moment and then exhaled, becoming fully present once more and set his cup down on the side of the sofa. Julian was waiting for him with his knees and arms open showing him that Julian wanted them to stretch out together on the sofa.

 

Gaven inched over to the middle of the sofa and settled onto his side against Julian’s chest. Julian arched his back momentarily so that Gaven could snake his arms around his waist and was pleased when he did it. 

 

He’s so willing to be close to me right now. He must have wanted this very badly. Why couldn’t he just say? Julian mused, while he gently settled his fingers into Gaven’s damp curls and slowly rubbed the side of his scalp in a soothing manner.

 

The action was perfectly timed.

 

 Although Gaven did indeed relish their usually rare intimacy, there was a louder part of him demanding that he consider the consequences of what he was doing and what he had already done. None of it had been part of Gaven’s plans. For once he’d simply moved in accordance with his innermost impulses. But now that sense was slowly returning Gaven wondered gravely at the wisdom of his actions.

 

Julian felt Gaven’s grip around his waist tighten ever so slightly and watched him slowly turn his face into Julian’s solar plexus as he breathed in slowly and deeply.

 

“Hey.” Julian slid his hand down the back of Gaven’s head pinching at the base of his skull where the muscles felt tight. “Talk to me.”

 

Julian put his cup down along the side of the sofa and then began to rub at the back of Gaven’s bad shoulder coaxing a subtle groan.

 

Gaven dragged his face to the side once more with his eyes shut. “What’s going to happen between us once we have to…”

 

“Face the masses?” Julian finished for him. “Well, traditionally we might be considered a couple which means we’d spend time together when we could like this, take our meals together when we can, and go to obligatory functions as a designated pair...If some or none of that appeals to you...we could talk about what you are comfortable with.”

 

“Your speaking of courtship.” Gaven summarized, more for his benefit than for Julian’s as he flattened his chin and looked up at the younger man.

 

“Do you object to the concept?” Julian cautiously asked.

 

“Of courtship? No. Although I feel tremendously out of my element with it. I am quite a bit older than you, Doctor, and…” Gaven found it difficult to approach what he wanted to say.

 

“You never thought you’d take a mate again.” Julian wrinkled his nose as he said the word, disliking it as a descriptor even though he knew its context was appropriate to Gaven’s cultural understanding.

 

Gaven’s head briefly swam, the word having a triggering effect that he swiftly sought to suppress. “I know things are different now. But it’s difficult to overcome my cultural practices. The Oum bond for life. Anything else is solely contractually procreational. But you and I are neither.”

 

Gaven’s tone was becoming increasingly tense as anxiety threatened to overtake their romance.

 

A sliver of cold reality wiggled up Julian’s spine.

 

“Gaven.” Julian cupped his face in his hands centering Gaven’s head and tilting his chin so that they were looking at each other.

 

“You need to give me time. What we have together, for me, feels new and fragile. You’re the only person I want to be with like this. But, as I’ve said, I need time. Can you humor me for a while? Can we maybe just try being together for the sake of it?”

 

“I believe it was a human who coined the phrase, time is relative. I can understand your hesitation, Julian. Our apprehensions are mutual if born from different sources. I am prepared to give you as much time as I have.” Gaven offered.

 

Julian frowned slightly at this response. It bothered him that Gaven seemed to prefer to speak of their relationship in such finite terms but ultimately, he found he had little to offer that was contrary.

 

Julian’s feelings ran deep for Gaven but even he was wise enough to see that a stronger commitment between them at this time was unwise. Julian had told him when he started that their dynamic was casual and while Julian certainly intended to keep their dynamic monogamous, he wasn’t prepared to offer anything more. Now that he’d gotten Gaven to relax his resistance to the idea of them being together, he suddenly found himself in uncharted territory. He knew he needed to pull back now and let things progress more naturally. He needed to let Gaven dictate their pace now because Gaven was much wiser in some respects than Julian was. They both needed time to make plans and adjust their thinking if they had any hope of actually making something of their relationship. While he knew all of this on an intellectual level, there was a part of Julian that resented the idea of things becoming so complicated.

 

As they continued to silently lounge together a call came in momentarily interrupting their intimacy.

 

It was Dax.

 

“Bashir.”

 

 

“Dax here. We have word that the Earth task force will be arriving in a few hours. It’s past noon and you still haven’t submitted the requested reports. The captain asked that they be submitted by this morning. Were you planning to submit them anytime soon?”

 

Gaven and Julian exchanged looks. Gaven’s being one of displeasure at their procrastination while Julian rolled his eyes at the inconvenience of the task.

 

“Sorry, Dax. I know I’m behind.  I’ll send my report off promptly.” Julian promised.

 

“Well, isn’t that nice of you. Thank you so much.” She muttered sarcastically. “You know Julian, while I know you’re still on leave it would be nice if you would remember that the rest of the senior staff does have legitimate work to do. Anyway, Doctor Ore hasn’t submitted his either and I haven’t been able to get him at home.”

 

At this Gaven looked like he was planning to pull out of their position and a silent and swift negotiation began passing between the men.

 

Eventually, Gaven won.

 

“I apologize, Jadzia. I’ve been away all morning, but the Captain will have my report within the hour.” Gaven muttered.

 

“Oh. Doctor Ore? You’re there. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were…” Jadzia trailed off abruptly. “Well, sorry to bug you guys. Dax...Dax out.”

 

The line promptly clicked off.

 

“Are you satisfied with yourself?” Julian muttered through an acute huff.

 

“What? Dax doesn’t know how long I’ve been here or what we’ve been doing.” A thoroughly amused expression was plastered across Gaven’s face as he pulled back enough from Julian to look him full in the face.

 

“She knows more than you’d think,” Julian admitted.

 

“Well then I suppose we should have worked on those reports when I asked earlier. You really only have yourself to blame for this.” Gaven quipped, sensibly.

 

“You’re ever so right. What could have possibly possessed me to be so careless?” Julian muttered while he tugged at Gaven’s ribs encouraging him to readjust so that Julian could pull him into a proper lounging embrace and kiss him.

 

Reluctantly the duo agreed to part so that they could make good on their individual obligations. The reports were just one aspect. Once the task force arrived, they would want to collect direct statements and impressions. It was likely that along with most of the senior staff, Quark’s staff would also be interviewed as well as Gaven and Garak. In retrospect this was likely to take most of the remaining day even with the task force dividing up their duties. And then of course there was the matter of taking custody of Conrad Wittle who was currently in a somewhat precarious situation thanks to the projectile still lodged dangerously close to his spine.

 

-@~

 

Sooner than either of them would have liked, Gaven did indeed leave.

 

Despite still being sore a kind of hazy calm had settled over Gaven that followed him all the way home. When he got to his quarters Gaven swiftly drummed out his report in frank factual detail including his efforts to approach Elim Garak. Regarding Garak, he was careful to leave out any details that might have incriminated Garak in separate unlawful aspects of his information gathering, but he was confident that Garak would be mostly transparent about his part in the business. Starfleet was undoubtedly well aware of the man’s history and backchannels and even if they weren’t, he trusted in Garak’s ability to protect himself while also giving the Task Force exactly what they needed to achieve their ends.

 

While Gaven had gone back to his quarters to change clothes, Julian had swiftly submitted his late report and was just preparing to leave to meet the Captain when someone rang at his quarters.

 

 It was Dax who was sporting an unusually wide eyed and closed mouth expression on her face when Julian met her at the door.

 

“Hi. I thought you might want to walk with me to Benjamin’s. Ready?” She asked like a person pretending they didn’t know something when they did.

 

“Sure. Are...Um. Are you alright there, Jadzia?” Julian asked.

 

“Yep. I was just, you know, nearby. Thought it might be nice to check in.” Dax said.

 

“Right. Yeah. OK, sure. I’ll just get my pad.” Julian shook off his discomfort at her strange lack of inquisition regarding Gaven’s earlier presence and walked back into his room.

 

While he was briefly away Dax wildly surveyed the room noticing the multiple and still damp towels hanging in plain sight and the abandoned coffee mugs on the floor near the sofa. For Dax, this was prime evidence, and it took all her effort to suppress a schoolgirl’s squeal as she danced about in place for the briefest of seconds before Julian returned.

 

Julian almost cringed when he returned to find her intentionally trying to look inconspicuous.

 

“You know, Dax if you have something to say you can just say it.” Julian muttered.

 

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Julian.” Dax muttered smoothly. “You’re entitled to a private life after all.”

 

“Oh. Well, how exceedingly kind of you to remind me.” Julian quipped.

 

“I mean, if you and Doctor Ore want to have some kind of liaison and not tell anyone you're doing it, well that’s just fine by me.” Jadzia blurted out as quickly as she could. “Anyway, ready?”

 

Julian’s mouth dropped open and promptly shut again. “Ex...Excuse me?”

 

“Really. It’s fine. Mums the word. Let's go.” Jadzia nodded earnestly.

 

 “Dax I am NOT having a liaison with Gaven.” Julian protested.

 

“OK. Sure. Call it whatever you want. My point is, I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say I understand. It’s just...You know, if you're not...I’d love to know what the hell you two find to do all night and morning long that’s so...Wet.”

 

At this remark, Julian turned pink as her word choice caused him to briefly replay some of their earlier antics together.

 

“Oh my God…” Julian rolled his eyes in disbelief. “Alright. You’ve got me. Gaven came over last night and stayed. We’ve decided we’re...Trying some things on together.”

 

“Oh my God.” Dax suddenly rushed Julian, smothering him with her hug. “FINALLY.”

 

“Don’t tell me you had money on it or something.” Julian muttered.

 

“Well, I didn’t. But I wouldn’t put it past Quark to have a pool going. You guys have been mooning over each other for months. Well? How do you feel?” Jadzia asked.

 

“I don’t know.” Julian admitted, pulling out of her hug.

 

“Are you alright?” Glee was swiftly replaced by breakneck concern.

 

“Yes. I mean, I’ve finally made progress. We’ve made progress. But…” Julian was finding it hard to pinpoint his unease.

 

“What did Gaven say? Was he open to your togetherness?” She questioned.

 

“He certainly opened up to me. There’s no doubt he’s in love with me and I’ve never felt the way I feel for him with anyone else. But something feels off. One minute we were fighting about our feelings in his quarters and then suddenly he appears here full of self-reproach and apology. And then he just came on to me gradually. Like he was trying to prove something. I can feel that what he’s doing isn’t comfortable for him in full.”

 

“You think he’s trying to...Appease you somehow?” Dax offered.

 

“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe he just needs some time.”  Julian sighed.

 

“Maybe you both do.” Dax observed. “I don’t know, Julian. This could be the real thing for you. A once in a lifetime kind of thing. Maybe for Gaven it’s not though. I feel in my gut that he really truly has bonded with you. But…”

 

“I know. He’s already been bonded to someone before. Until he left his world Lopel Ner was practically the center of his existence even in death. He’s already said he doesn’t think he could manage a bond like that again. I can’t say I blame him for the sentiment."

 

"Sure. I guess that makes sense." Dax said, although her tone said she wasn't fully convinced.

 

"What else could it be?" He inquired.

 

"I don't know, Julian." Dax admitted. "I mean maybe you're looking at his remarks the wrong way. Gaven's people form psychic bonds as well as emotional ones. I don't know that you could have the kind of dynamic he's used to even if you tried in that respect. So, I guess if I were you, I'd worry less about it. But I also think...I think it might be a mistake to take what you're doing together too casually. I know Gaven's implied he's afraid of deep commitment but it's possible that's actually what he needs from people the most."

 

~@~

 

When Gaven returned home he promptly changed clothes and then sat down and composed his reports. Unlike everyone else, there was not just the Wittle business to dictate, but the regular log he sent to the Captain about his experiences and the personal log he'd encrypted and was writing in the Oum language nearly guaranteeing that no one would be able to read it even if they broke the encryption.

 

He was very nearly done with everything when someone buzzed at his door.

 

Not unexpectedly, it was Cheval.

 

"Hello, doctor. Are you well today?" Cheval asked once Gaven let him in.

 

Gaven smiled softly. "No."

 

"Your expression does not coincide with your response." He noted.

 

For Cheval this was the equivalent of a quip.

 

"I have perhaps done something unwise." Gaven explained.

 

"I see. You have done something ill advised that has also made you happy. That is what you mean. I can sense your internal conflict." Cheval shifted awkwardly catching Gaven's attention.

 

"Are you well my friend?" Gaven inquired.

 

"I have been in contact with my mother on Vulcan. She has advised me that my return is overdue. I have made tentative plans to return to my homeworld in six weeks to address my nuptial concerns and conclude them. Will you be ready to come with me at that time?" He asked.

 

"Yes." Gaven said as he considered the gravity of the impending situation. "In the meantime, we should focus our training efforts with Mr. Worf. Six weeks isn't much time but it's better than nothing."

 

"Do you have doubts about what is likely to unfold when I return?" Cheval asked as they both walked into the kitchen to sit.

 

"You already know how I feel about these rites T’Yel has threatened to initiate between you." He replied.

 

"You feel responsible." Cheval observed.

 

"Yes. But it's more than just that. I have yet to make a true enemy in this galaxy. If this situation brings about your untimely demise Cheval, honorable or not, forgiveness will not be in me to bestow in this instance."

 

Cheval frowned slightly. Gaven's usually tight psychic shielding between them was weaker than usual and his emotional signaling far easier to sense.

 

"Something has changed in you." Cheval observed.

 

Gaven made a few more notations on his data pad and then put it aside.

 

"Things have progressed in an unexpected way with Doctor Bashir. We've become romantically intimate, but…" Gaven's features softened. "I fear we want things from each other that neither of us can fully provide."

 

"You have entered courtship. I see it feels particularly challenging for you.  What do you want from the Doctor that you do not feel he can provide you?" Cheval inquired.

 

"A life together." Gaven admitted. "Julian is a young man. He still has a long career left to pursue with Starfleet. He says he's loved before, but I don't think he knows what it's like to live beside another or to blend one's life in a real way. He speaks of casualness. Of living in the now. He thinks that will make our situation easier to bear but he's wrong. If we part, it will only make it worse."

 

"Is that why you have chosen to withhold the full extent of your bonding abilities from him?" Cheval asked.

 

Gaven sighed deeply and leveled his gaze at Cheval. "I have linked with Julian before. Many times, in fact."

 

"Yes. But you have not consciously permitted an open-ended link between you. Are my assumptions correct?" Cheval observed.

 

"Yes." He admitted.

 

"You must not perceive your dynamic with him to be lasting then. I find it illogical that you would choose to enter an intimate relationship that you do not believe can be sustained." Cheval remarked.

 

"I had to do something. Now he knows the truth of how I feel beyond simple words. If nothing else, we will always have that much between us." Gaven suddenly said as he rubbed at his face.

 

Cheval's mouth flattened. "We are right to make efforts to dissolve the psychic bond between us. It is an undesirable impediment for you as much as for me."

 

"My connection with you is not an impediment in my pursuit of relationships with others. If it weren't for the fact that it has so completely disrupted your life, I would not be so quick to discourage its existence." He insisted.

 

This answer didn't make Cheval much happier. "You said you mutually could not provide everything necessary for a lasting relationship with Doctor Bashir. What does he want from you that you are so unwilling to give him?"

 

"The convenience of my presence. While my time in space has been educational, it is not my preference. Nor are the conflicts of this sector of space really my concern. I deserve the opportunity to start my life over and on my own terms. I have made it clear to Julian and to everyone else that it is not my intention to remain on Deep Space Nine. I know Julian doesn’t fully understand why I can’t accept this space station as my home.” Gaven explained.

 

“I see. It is logical that in your new life you would seek a sense of full autonomy and environmental stability. Under the existing circumstances you enjoy neither here. I also see that given Bajor’s proximity to Dominion controlled space if you did choose to settle on another world Bajor would not be an ideal choice. Clearly you do want to settle on a new world. But doing so will assuredly take you outside Doctor Bashir’s scope. Does he know this is your concern about pursuing him?” Cheval inquired.

 

“He has told me that should a time come in the future where it was necessary for me to part from him, he wouldn’t try to stop me. But I must admit, I don't actually believe he will keep his word. Julian is a very likeable man. He has many convictions, and he aspires to live a righteous and ethical life. But I am not blind to the reality that there is a part of him that expects people to bend themselves to his way of thinking and being. There is ego in him as well as the kind of selfishness that comes from knowingly being exceptional. I find it hard to imagine that when we do eventually part, we will leave each other on good terms and with open ended feelings.” Gaven confessed.

 

“You cannot know how it will be until it is.” Cheval quietly said. “But if Doctor Bashir was to go back on his word, then it is probable that he does not love you as you deserve.”

 

To anyone else it might have seemed strange for a Vulcan to be administering love advice but then again Cheval was not typical of his kind and the fact that he was actively in love with not just one, but two people gave him a certain amount of valuable insight into the subject.

 

"Why is it, if I may ask, that Deep Space Nine is so unsuitable to you?" Cheval asked in order to appease his own curiosity.

 

"Besides that it's a space station? Deep Space Nine is at the forefront of the war with the Dominion. I have no taste for such large-scale conflict, and I worry that my presence here may one day turn out to be a liability for those I've come to care about. I also miss the stability and the anonymity I could enjoy if I were simply to keep out of the universe's way." He admitted.

 

"Have you considered your alternatives? You have connections elsewhere now. Gulba 4 for example if you wished to move outside of the Federation of planets and Vulcan. The Vulcan government has already offered you asylum if you desired it." Cheval remarked.

 

"Yes. I've considered it." Gaven admitted. "Perhaps in time. For now, there is no great rush to decide my plans."

 

"True though it would be illogical to delay the execution of your intentions indefinitely. The Dominion war by all accounts is unlikely to resolve or its threat in this quadrant to diminish any time soon. You should make your plans in earnest or you may find them to be decided for you. You know I support you in any choice that you make." Cheval spoke his last words more softly but with firm conviction.

 

Gaven silently sighed and kept his eyes on his work.

 

Lately a subtle tension had become detectable between the men. A soft equitable tension that was rooted in their mutually attentive consideration for one another’s respective happiness and wellbeing. Of anyone Gaven had known since leaving his homeworld, he knew on instinct that Cheval understood him best of all. They understood each other the best of anyone in either of their lives. Even if, for Gaven, his understandings were not quite as perfect as the Vulcan’s was.

 

There was one point and one point alone they did not hold consensus on even though Gaven so diligently focused upon its relief. There was the matter of their shared and ongoing link. While Cheval was committed to dissolving it and Gaven actively supported him in this ambition, Cheval saw that Gaven was only working against their psychic bond because he believed severing it was in Cheval's best interest and not, he silently noted, because Gaven felt it was in their mutual best interest. Even if Gaven had not always felt this way, Cheval was somewhat disturbed by the realization that under other circumstances Gaven might have been inclined to keep their bond fully intact.

 

This understanding puzzled the young Vulcan considerably. Especially now that Gaven seemed to be so intent on deepening his relationship with Doctor Bashir.

 

 Surely, Doctor Bashir for his own part being a human man of exceptional feeling and discernment would object to Cheval's influence and favor with Gaven no doubt for the same reason that Cheval's betrothed objected to Gaven's relationship to Cheval.

 

Even if Gaven was deaf and dumb to it, Jyrrus was not.

 

"This business with Conrad Wittle is almost through. I've just sent off my overdue reports. Will you stay and take some late lunch with me my friend? If this taskforce proves intent upon a face-to-face account of the entire business, it may be days before we get the chance again." Gaven said, indicating that he was trying to lighten the mood between them.

 

"My apologies, Doctor. But I cannot. I have my own reports to tend to on behalf of Bajor and I and Keiko O’Brien’s efforts. We were successful in circumventing any lasting agricultural disaster, but some steps must be implemented to ensure the blight does not return during proceeding seasons." Cheval explained.

 

“Ah. I see.” Gaven nodded, disappointment evident in his tone. “Another day maybe.”

 

“Yes, doctor.” Cheval agreed in his soft shy manner. “Please let me know when you have more expendable time. I will leave you to your other business for now.”

 

In truth Cheval was quite focused on leaving Gaven’s quarters as soon as possible. Not because he really wished to leave his friend but because he was finding himself caught up in an illogical conundrum he did not know how to fully handle. In the back of Cheval’s mind he now reflected on his partner’s warning and accusations. Perhaps T’Yel had been correct in her concerns that the good doctor had a bewitching kind of power over Cheval. Perhaps, he conceded it had been a mistake to leave Vulcan and to come to the space station. Perhaps all of T’Yel’s concerns had been entirely justified.

 

Yet their plans to dissolve their psychic link were resolute and unchangeable. One way or another Gaven and Cheval were due to return to Vulcan together. To what end no amount of logical analysis could fully predict. Things had progressed far beyond anything that Cheval had anticipated and now there was some question of whether the damage that had been done to his most important relationship was repairable. The terrible reality was that if Cheval succeeded in separating and severing he and Gaven’s complex minds, it was possible that T’Yel would still seek to dissolve their betrothment and inevitably sever herself from him as well. In any event, Cheval couldn’t help but feel he was caught up in some great trap that for him could only result in the loss of those who were most dear to him.

 

Even with the Vulcan fall backs of logic and reason, Cheval could find no escape or relief from his feelings or from his fears.

 

“Alright.” Gaven agreed gently.

 

Although he did not actually hear the Vulcan sigh, Gaven sensed a kind of sad despondency in his friend that caused him to slowly look up and watch Cheval depart from him.

 

Cheval did not hurry and he did not look back or reply. When he finally did fully disappear back into the depths of the station, in his wake Gaven slowly frowned. In his bones he knew something was amiss between them but there just wasn’t the time or the words to fox out the finer nuances of the emotions involved.

 

Chapter 47: Meetings and Partings

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Seven: Meeting and Partings

 

The Earth Task Force arrived on the station a few hours after the final incident reports came in. It was quickly established that the task force would be conducting some in person interviews just to reiterate some of the finer points of the events that had transpired. They were chiefly interested in speaking directly to Julian, Garak, and Quark but Gaven was also included on the interview roster though not as a key witness.

 

The eight-person task force was being headed by a North American Deputy U.S. Marshal by the name of Alvarez. Upon the team's arrival senior staff was called to assembly to be introduced to the extradition team.

 

Gaven had been invited but under Benjamin’s assurance it was just a formality and didn’t require his presence, he had declined preferring to keep his contact with anything related to Conrad Wittle to a minimum. 

 

With the senior staff assembled, Alvarez and about half of the team entered.

 

Up until this point Julian had been sitting next to Dax looking somewhat lost in a kind of daydream as he pondered when he was going to see Gaven next and what they might do together in their free time. When the team arrived, and he happened to glance at who was greeting them his attention suddenly sharpened as clear surprise splashed across his face.

 

“Oh my god. Julianna.” Julian blinked several times at the young woman who was now dispassionately standing at the far end of the table. 

 

Alvarez was not particularly tall, but she was immaculately ordered in dress with her long wavy brown hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. Her skin was olive and sun kissed. Her makeup was natural. With large brown eyes and a fine angular mouth. Had he not known who she was Julian might have never imagined someone like her was related to Conrad. But because Julian had once loved the man, he saw subtle similarities between the siblings. A line along the jawbone. A turn along the shadow of the nose. 

 

She was in the process of placing down several data pads when she slowly looked up upon hearing her name. “Hello Julian.”

 

She then stood up and addressed the room. “Well on behalf of my colleagues, I would like to thank all of you for taking time out of your schedules to meet with me today. I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Julianna Alvarez. On behalf of everyone involved in this extradition process I would like to extend our gratitude for the effort and steps that were taken on the station to apprehend Conrad Wittle and bring his ongoing criminal activities to our attention. I am here at this time only to gather final statements and to oversee the safe and lawful transportation of Conrad Wittle back to Earth.”

 

At the conclusion of this statement, Julianna looked from person to person giving all the officers a curt and impersonal smile. Julian was last and when she caught the uncertain expression on his face, she addressed the room once more.

 

“Before we begin arranging formal interviews, I would like to clarify something. Conrad Wittle is my half-brother. While some may think it a conflict of interest that I’m leading this team, let me assure you here and now that I have committed my entire personal and professional life to tracking Conrad with the intent of one day bringing him to justice. My record and background as a Deputy Marshal should speak for itself. If anyone has any problems with the nature of my team, they may submit their concerns in writing and relay them back to my superiors on Earth. Otherwise, you may field any direct concerns with me in person now.” Julianna said firmly.

 

“You’re Wittle’s sister?”  Chief O’Brien muttered rhetorically. 

 

“I see that you’re not carrying the family name anymore.” Julian remarked.

 

“No. Alvarez is my mother’s maiden name. We both reverted to it when Conrad’s initial scandal tore my family apart. I was fourteen.” Julianna remarked.

 

At this with a determined serious look on her face the young woman slid the data pads to each officer with perfect precision.

 

 “Nice to see you’re keeping up with your shuffleboard skills.” Julian remarked taking up the PAD to glance at it.

 

As expected, his name was on the roster.

 

“Still a champion.” Julianna muttered dispassionately.

 

The next few hours were taken up by a detailed walk through of the sting mission that had been contrived to stop Wittle from causing another major incident. Julianna and her team listened politely and stoically to most of it until they were through.

 

“I see Conrad has refined much of himself in the last decade. I’m sorry he chose to pick this station as his latest playground. Besides Earth, there are a handful of other plaintiffs throughout the system willing to speak to Wittle’s manipulations in the quadrant. I’m sure it’s become evident how popular he’s capable of being? Well lucky for us not everyone finds him so charming anymore. What you’ve done here is nothing short of extraordinary.”

 

“Yes, I’ve heard how popular he is.” Sisko remarked. “Do you anticipate anyone coming to his aide in this business?"

 

“I’m afraid to say that there’s been at least one good thing to come out of the Dominion conflicts. It’s keeping everyone busy. I don’t anticipate any problems. Besides, with any luck he’ll never walk again. I’m not holding my breath, but miracles do happen.” The cool way she said this was a testament to just how much Julianna disliked her brother and felt justified in being the one to deliver him to the feet of justice.

 

“Not to be personal or anything, but in your opinion was it always in him to be like this?” Miles asked.

 

Julianna sighed indicating it annoyed her to field personal questions about her brother.

 

“Conrad is a clinical sociopath and has always been such. His unusual combination of intelligence, good looks, and blatant and affluent exceptionalism was always at the root of the problem. Remove any one element and he might have passed as a reasonable, if vain, human being. But together in his present form? He’s a monster. Is that answer sufficiently satisfying for you...Chief O'brien?” She asked, glancing at her own data pad that helped her know who was assembled in the room.

 

"I'm sorry I asked." Miles muttered into his sleeve.

 

"Well. Now that the formalities are over, I'll have my team get to work. We should be out of your hair sometime tomorrow." Julianna promised.

 

~@~

 

By the next morning most of the information the task force needed had been collected. Now there were just the individual interviews to finish. Quark’s people had been talked to the previous day and Quark himself had sweated out a lengthy interview that only did not require him to become a trial witness because most of his dealings were with Hagath and his cousin rather than with Conrad.

 

Gaven had been next on the list but of anyone that day, his interview had been the shortest and most circumspect. Gaven's recall was so good that it helped protect the others more solidly and it greatly helped that, of anyone, he had been kept the most in the dark about the plans being executed on the station.

 

Gaven had been asked to take over in the infirmary since Julian wasn’t allowed to be in Conrad’s vicinity and Fisk had been called away for the day by the captain. Julian had decided to settle himself in Quark’s mostly so that he could listen in for any gossip going around about the task force, Quark, and anything else involving Conrad. Garak had promised to meet him but it was unclear when his own interview would be concluded. Garak had gone in after Gaven and had been gone the longest of anyone.

 

“Well?” Julian inquired once he saw a chipper Garak finally appear out of the promenade. “You’re not being hauled off to Earth or anything are you?”

 

“Why on earth would you think that would happen? Everything is all settled and explained. All is well Doctor. I can quite assure you.” Garak muttered brightly as he settled down beside Julian.

 

“Your evasions are nothing short of miraculous about these things, Garak. Though you’ll excuse me if I don’t quite believe you. How is it possible that everything’s settled?” Julian asked.

 

“Doctor, please. You can’t possibly tell me you don’t know?” Garak feigned being stunned. “It seems that a key witness has come forward in all of Wittle's dealings and he’s not only prepared to testify but he’s brought a whole slew of friends with him with similar stories. It’s rather amazing just how big Hagath’s network of agents were and how often he liked to try and kill them. It appears that Wittle’s been getting people out of the organization for quite some time.”

 

“Yes,” Julian muttered. “How noble of him.”

 

“Noble or not, the point is that people can be quite funny when it comes to loyalty. Particularly where the heart is concerned. It seems that Conrad had a rather bad habit of getting into bed with all kinds of people, literally, and you might imagine from personal experience, doctor, how charming he can be…” Much to Garak's satisfaction Julian visibly shuddered. “Well to make a somewhat tired story short. Wittle left a whole wake of sociopathic lovers behind who simply don’t appreciate his methods in full. They started a little network you see among themselves and, in exchange for certain protections, Farrak along with others have agreed to testify.”

 

“Fascinating. How was it that the task force got wind of this interesting little network?” Julian pressed.

 

“Oh. Well, that would be because I told them. People like the kind that Wittle associates with are not hard to find, you see. If you know where to look. I can’t say I personally know much about the business but Farrak does and it was a simple enough matter to track him down. Risa is so popular this time of year.” Garak explained not bothering to admit that was where he’d found the man once he’d gone looking for him.

 

Julian scowled and rolled his eyes. “Sometimes, Garak, your powers of deduction terrify me.”

 

“Well, take heart doctor. In another twenty-four hours all this disgraceful business will be concluded. I do believe you are the last person they plan to talk to. Are you not?” Garak pointed out.

 

"So it seems." Julian did happen to be the last person Julianna intended to speak to and shortly after Garak had been sent away Julian was summoned to the interview room.

 

Not surprisingly Julianna along with her assistant was waiting for him.

 

“Good afternoon, Julian. If you’ll just come this way.” Julianna directed him to a chair and then closed the door. “Julian, this is inspector Louis. He’ll be recording our conversation. We’re here today just to take witness statements, observations, and in your case a character analysis of Conrad from your perspective. Anything you tell us is in confidence and will solely be used by us to further establish and clarify our case.”

 

“I see.” Julian remarked. “You’re really going to try to prosecute him."

 

"Yes. That's the plan. Do you object?" Julianna looked tired and impatient.

 

“Sorry, no. I'm just a little skeptical. Conrad has never successfully been held accountable for anything in his life. While I'd like to think you’re going to break that trend you'll excuse me for saying that I will believe it when I see it." Julian muttered.

 

"Well. That's fine. Regardless of how this all shakes out, that laser rifle didn’t do us a lot of favors. A newer model wouldn't have used a projectile along with the laser targeting. It would have just vaporized its target on contact. But then again we know Conrad set up the hit so it's not surprising he lived through it." Julianna lamented.

 

"That weapon was perfectly capable of killing him and probably would have if Gaven hadn't let the shot go through him first. Look, I don't really understand what you want from me here. I've given my analysis of Wittle before." He complained.

 

"That's fair. Maybe I just wanted to see for myself what kind of man you really were. We know from our investigation you had no knowledge of Wittle's activity until he confronted you on the station. His very compulsion to do so is a mystery to me." Julianna admitted.

 

"You want to know why." Julian observed. 

 

"Yes. I want to know why he would throw away his entire design to bring down Hagath's organization simply because he happened to run into you." Her voice quivered, either with fatigue or some secret emotion.

 

Julian recognized the look on her face. He'd had a similar look on his own years ago when Conrad had destroyed the integrity of their love by following one of his immoral whims. It was the look of a heart's betrayal.

 

"I wouldn't say goodbye." Julian remarked.

 

"What?" Julianna didn't understand the context of his remark.

 

"After it came to light what he'd done on Earth, Conrad tried to find me. Supposedly to say goodbye. But I refused to see him and disappeared until I knew he was off planet. He never forgave me for that." Julian explained. "And for the record? It's not really true you know."

 

"What isn't true?" Julianna pressed.

 

"That sociopaths don't or can't love and care about people. Your brother was capable of loving people, he just didn't love them the way he was expected to or in a way that was particularly wholesome. Sometimes, now more than ever, I find myself wondering if that's why he did it. I wonder if it was all just a kind of self-sabotage. Conrad found himself in an impossible position. He found himself confronted with the possibility that he couldn't do without someone. But I think he only realized it after he'd played his card. I think coming to look for me back then was an afterthought. An irrational impulse. I think he expected me to run away with him and when he couldn't find me it occurred to him that maybe I wasn't there because I didn't need him like he needed me. It's haunted him ever since." Julian explained.

 

"I see. So, based on that theory…" Julianna began.

 

"Based on that theory it's plausible that when he ran into me again on accident, a similar irrational impulse came over him that demanded he destroy what he loved most of all to prove it didn't have power over him and never had."

 

"I guess that's possible." Julianna conceded. "Of all the people my brother ever tangled with you were the only one he ever brought home. I was too young to understand what went on between adults back then, but what I did know was that Conrad was a better man during those years. Maybe you had a hand in that and maybe you didn't. Nevertheless, I thank you for helping to preserve my faith in him for as long as you did. Anyway," she paused.

 

"Julianna." Julian interjected. " Conrad had a way of making people feel they were special. Maybe because he was so exceptional in many ways, it was easy to feel held by him when one was in his good favor. He made people want to be better versions of themselves. He just never considered the possibility that they could become better on their own. We've both become better people despite Conrad's influence. While I had to separate myself from him, I'm sorry that I didn't think to reach out to you."

 

"Did you know I'm the first girl born to the family in ten generations? I wanted so badly to be loved by my father the way he loved his son. I tried to live up to the family name. We all did. My mother loved Aaron Wittle and tried to help him through his son’s catastrophe. But she was young, and his second wife and I was a daughter he couldn't see himself in making my existence of little consolation to him or anyone else carrying the Wittle blood and name. Well, I think that's enough of that. We should have everything we need. Thank you for your time." Julianna signaled for her assistant to stop the recording.

 

Julian slowly stood up and shuffled awkwardly in place.

 

"It was good seeing you again after all these years. I'm glad to see you've gotten on with your life." Julianna remarked.

 

"Yes. The feeling is mutual I'm sure." Julian demurred as they stepped together to the door. "I wish you and your team the best."

 

"Thank you." Julianna said.

 

"Maybe," Julian hesitated. "Maybe after all of this is behind us you could write to me someday and update me about your life and how you got here."

 

"I'll consider it." Julianna agreed. "Well doctor Bashir, be well and try to stay out of harm's way while you're out here on the frontier. I don't envy this station’s position, but from what I've seen I'm glad you and the rest are out here."

 

~@~

 

Working in the infirmary was much more stressful than usual thanks to all the necessary additional people hanging about. Wittle was in isolation and under strict lock and watch. Between Odo's extra security and the placid presence of the task force there were more guards than there were patients waiting around that day.

 

Gaven spent as much time as he could hiding in his office. It utterly curdled his blood to know Wittle was still on the station. The man had a remarkable ability to infect everyone around him and Gaven knew he would not feel at ease until the man was gone. When his lunch break came around Gaven headed directly to Quark’s and for once wished he could have something to take the edge off. Standard alcohol seemed to have no effect. It was rare that Gaven sat directly at the bar. Usually, he preferred a small more secluded table.

 

Quark saw him straight away since he’d been polishing his glassware like he always did when he was disquieted by things.

 

“Having a bad day?” Quark muttered from the side of his mouth.

 

“Do you have to ask?” Gaven replied bluntly.

 

“Mm. Since I know that a drink isn’t going to do anything for you, why don’t we try sugar instead. I’ll fix you a chocolate sundae. I once knew a half Betazoid who just loved those. Hot little number, but intellectually not my type.”

 

“Chocolate. Well, why not?” Gaven agreed.

 

As Quark disappeared into the back to fetch the ice cream, Garak who had been waiting patiently for Julian to return saw Gaven and immediately came to sit beside him.

 

“Good day to you, Doctor. I’m surprised to see you here this time of day.” He observed.

.

“Hello, Mr. Garak. I had to get out of the infirmary for a while. With Wittle held up there I can hardly get my work done.” Gaven complained.

 

“Mm. I see. Fear not, Doctor. The matter is almost done. The station will be rid of him by morning I’m sure.” Garak assured him.

 

“Has anyone seen Julian yet?” Gaven asked.

 

“No but I’m not surprised. That fe-male leading up the task force seems like a real piece of work. I heard her and Wittle are relations and that she’s been hell bent on bringing him to justice for some years. I wouldn’t be surprised if there's a little history there. Just my bartender's instinct.” Quark muttered in a low tone as he presented Gaven with an all-chocolate sundae.

 

Gaven wrinkled his nose at the sugar sweet smell of the sundae and poked at it with his spoon. “What do you call this again?”

 

“It’s chocolate ice cream with hot chocolate fudge. It’s made mostly from milk and a kind of plant bean. Would you stop being difficult and just try it already.” Quark insisted.

 

Gaven did and when the spoon disappeared into his mouth he groaned when the warm chocolate fudge hit his taste buds.

 

“Good, right?” Quark muttered with satisfaction. “I think we found a winner. I take it you like the fudge more than the ice cream. That’s fair. I’ll send you home with a jar. Just don’t get crazy with it all at once or you’ll get indigestion.”

 

Gaven dug in again and after his second spoonful he sighed. The sundae was helping his nerves after all.

 

Garak observed all this with soft interest.

 

“You know if you like that, there’s a whole branch of confections you’ll probably enjoy. I’ll send you some sometime. I often get samples from all over, an occupational perk. I always end up throwing most of it out since eating them all would utterly spoil my figure.” Garak explained.

 

“Hey! How come you never offer me any of your swag?” Quark protested.

 

“Because you don’t like chocolate and would just turn it into a resale racket.” Garak replied.

 

“Well. You have me there. Excuse me, please. Business calls.” Quark left them then to go hassle his wait staff and haggle their breaks with them.

 

“How are you doing? Really?” Garak asked once Quark was gone as he patiently observed Gaven.

 

“Everything is fine. Or it soon will be. I’m sure once Wittle is gone things will be business as usual on the station. I’m also heading off for a visit to Vulcan in a few weeks.” Gaven informed him.

 

“Oh? Is Doctor Bashir going with you then? Off on a lover’s holiday?” Garak prodded bluntly.

 

“No. I’m going as a favor to a friend. It shouldn’t take more than a few days.” Gaven explained not flustered whatsoever by the prospect that Garak might know he and Julian were together now.

 

“You could take him along, you know. I’m sure Julian wouldn’t object. You might even be able to extend your stay and take a little vacation together.” He encouraged him.

 

“Not this time, Mr. Garak. Although I admit that it would be nice to go away with Julian sometime. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him truly idle."

 

“Mm. It can be challenging to be entirely at ease on a space station. That is very true. Well, Doctor. I think I will leave you to your lunch. Please do take care of you and yours. When you do see Julian apologize that I couldn't wait for him any longer.” Garak patted Gaven a few times on his free hand and then departed.

 

~@~

 

As the evening wore on, the senior staff was called together once more as the task force prepared to leave. It was a rather cut and dry ordeal that once again Gaven had agreed to sit out on so that he could pull an extra shift in the infirmary since this time both Julian and Fisk were away at the meeting.

 

 Once everyone was assembled Julianna thanked them for their assistance and cooperation and explained they would be sent word later about the outcome of the situation. As the task force began to stand, Julian saw Jeremiah stand with them.

 

"Welllll…" Fisk began in his Canadian drawl. "I think this is an excellent time to share the good news. I'm heading back to Earth in the morning which means that I'm prepared to fully reinstate this station's regular medical personnel. Formal orders will of course need to be drawn up, but I thought it only fair I give you a night to let it sink in."

 

All the senior staff murmured in approval and those closest to him, squeezed Julian's arm in congratulations.

 

"What? Remi, why am I just hearing about this now?" Julian protested.

 

"Cause my marching orders didn't come through officially until now. I am retired after all. Doctoring isn't my main line of work anymore. Although helping out here on the station has been a real treat. A real treat." Fisk insisted.

 

"But why are you going back?" Julian asked.

 

"I'm being called back in a forensic psychology capacity to offer my professional assessment regarding the Wittle case. I am a witness after all and besides the Ethics Committee has been trying to get their hands on Wittle for years. They never officially closed his case, ya see. So there's bound to be a Hell of a lot of litigation in his future." Fisk paused. "Of course, if you don’t think you're ready to come back, that would be an entirely different thing. Either way. My time is up. Think about it and we'll talk in the morning."

 

After this, Benjamin followed up this announcement with a few notes and then everyone was dismissed.

 

As much as Julian wanted to talk to Jeremiah more the older doctor refused and promised to chat with him in the morning as he'd already offered.

 

 For now, Fisk had a night of packing and reports to file and now that Conrad was being moved into the task force's full custody Julian was instructed to head back to the infirmary and relieve Gaven who had been pulling double duty all day.

 

"Are you alright?" Gaven pressed later when he saw a somewhat pale Julian show up near the end of Gaven's second shift.

 

"They're reinstating me." Julian muttered flatly. "Jeremiah, he's apparently leaving in the morning to return to Earth. My reinstatement papers and new orders are due in the morning."

 

Gaven's eyes widened.

 

"Did you know about this?" Julian inquired.

 

"No. But...I suppose it was bound to happen eventually. Are you happy about it? Do you feel ready to come back?" Gaven asked.

 

"I...I don't know. I mean, it's just so sudden. Certainly, I feel professionally capable of returning to duty." Julian reasoned.

 

"But?" Gaven inquired supportively pushing off the wall near his office to come stand beside Julian.

 

"Something feels strange about the idea. What if none of it's the same anymore?" Julian asked.

 

"Well," Gaven replied. "I suppose there's only one way to find out. I know you've been through a lot, Julian. It's understandable that the idea of returning to old routines seems daunting but I don't think it's a thing that's beyond your capabilities. You can do this. You've been doing it all along."

 

Despite himself Julian chuckled. "You can take the doctor out of the office, but you can't take the doctoring out of the doctor. Yes, I suppose you're right."

 

"You know I support you." Gaven reminded him as he pulled Julian into a warm side hug.

 

Even though it wasn't professional, Julian leaned in and kissed Gaven on the edge of his mouth. "I'm sorry you had to pull a double today."

 

Gaven squeezed him reassuringly. "It's no problem."

 

"You're too good, Gaven." Julian protested, reluctantly taking a step away from him.

 

"It's not about being good." Gaven replied, smiling shyly. "I think you should come back. You're ready. You've probably been ready for a while now."

 

"Maybe." Julian conceded. "It's not as if I have much of a choice. Jeremiah is going back to Earth with the task force tomorrow. I hate to say it but I'm going to miss having him around."

 

"Well, I guess that makes sense." Gaven replied though it was obvious he wasn't expecting the news.

 

Gaven had grown exceedingly fond of the elder Doctor too. He liked to count Jeremiah among his friends as well as a more recent member of his support network. Since Fisk had arrived, Gaven had agreed to regularly meet with him for counseling and his private sessions had been a positive and welcome experience.

 

"Do you want to come over tomorrow night?" Gaven asked.

 

"Always." Julian replied. 

 

"Good. I'll make us something special." Gaven promised.

 

"I can't wait." Julian replied.

 

The doctors kissed lightly. 

 

"Are you going to come and see Fisk off tomorrow?" Julian asked.

 

"I'll think about it." Gaven offered. 

 

"I'll check on you in the morning, if I may?" Julian asked tentatively.

 

"Alright." Gaven agreed.

 

Satisfied with these responses, Julian reluctantly pulled fully away and Gaven collected his things and began to walk away. Before he got fully to the exit, Gaven stopped suddenly and turned half around.

 

"I love you, Julian." Gaven said.

 

Julian stared at him and blinked. "I love you too Gaven. Go. I'll see you later."

 

Gaven quirked a slight smile and nodding turned back around continuing on his way.

 

When he finally disappeared, Julian repeated himself.  "I love you, Gaven. More than you can possibly know."

 

Chapter 48: Eye of the Storm

Chapter Text

Chapter Forty-Eight: Eye of the Storm

 

"Congratulations, Doctor. Welcome back." Benjamin said early the next morning as he stood with Jeremiah and clasped Julian's hand.

 

Fisk had relieved Julian exceedingly early that morning bidding him to return to the infirmary in his full medical blues.

 

 It had been a surreal experience putting his Starfleet uniform on again and now that he was back standing before the Captain, for a moment his recent past nearly felt like a fever dream.

 

"Thank you, sir." Julian said.

 

"Well? How does it feel?" Benjamin asked.

 

"Like it should." Julian admitted. "I feel good. Better than I have in a long time."

 

Benjamin nodded in approval.

 

"I'm proud of you, boy." Fisk told him. "You keep out of trouble now. I've still got higher hopes for you yet."

 

"Thank you, Remi. It's been an honor and a privilege." Julian remarked sincerely. 

 

"Okey Dokey. No need to see me out gentlemen. I know the way. Be well and God's speed to you all." Remi said. 

 

Fisk had brought his traveling bag with him and when he headed out to meet the rest of the team he was to be traveling with, he made a short detour to make one last house call.

 

Gaven wasn't expecting anyone that morning and had been sitting in meditation when his door rang. He was surprised to find Jeremiah at his door dressed in his traveling clothes.

 

"Doctor. Please, come in. I thought you'd be away by now." Gaven remarked padding back into his living room.

 

"No just on my way out. Thought I'd stop by since I don't know that we'll ever cross paths again my good man." Fisk remarked kindly.

 

"Not likely. Although you never know. I might get as far as Earth someday." Gaven replied.

 

"Mm. Anything is possible I suppose. In the meantime, I hope you plan to keep talking to someone about your troubles once I go. There's a lot of value in the things you know, have experienced, and where you've come from." Remi urged.

 

"Benjamin and I still meet up once a week to chat and of course Cheval knows about my history. Although, if you meant further therapy, I’m afraid Remi that once you go  I'll likely have only myself to talk to about certain things." Gaven remarked.

 

"Well son, I believe that's your prerogative. Although…" Fisk clucked his tongue.

 

"What?" Gaven pressed.

 

"Never forget that you're not under any obligation to keep quiet about who you are and where you come from. Part of living your life is about bringing others into it. You don't have to be an island forever. Just some thoughts from one discerning man to another. Take care of yourself Gaven. It's been quite a once in a lifetime experience."  Jeremiah braced Gaven's forearm and pounded him a few times on the back.

 

"Goodbye Remi. Thank you. For everything." Gaven replied. 

 

He was genuinely sad to see the elder human go. Jeremiah, like Benjamin, was the kind of man Gaven could talk on equal terms with. They had both enjoyed long marriages and were widowers. They were men accustomed to leadership and the large-scale management of their communities. In many ways they understood things that his other close friends did not because they had no contextual experience to compare to.

 

"No need to thank me. How about you just walk me to the transport." Fisk requested.

 

Gaven obliged him and when they got close to where the last members of the task force were shuffling into the private transport, Jeremiah stopped and pulled something out of his pocket.

 

"Now. You take this for me and keep it. Normally human's like to pass family heirlooms down to their offspring but the wife and I never had kiddos of our own. It's a universal watch. You can hand set the solar times for a dozen planets. No sensors, no chips. Just a simple winding mechanism. Had it in the family for generations and it still works just as well as the day it was made. You keep that and you set it for all the most important places in your life. It'll remind you that time stops for no one." Remi pressed the oversized and intricate pocket watch into Gaven's hand.

 

He then boarded the transport and disappeared.

 

Gaven waited for the transport to move away from the station and watched it depart out of a nearby window until it was fully out of sight. 

 

With the shuttle's departure Gaven felt much of his anxieties leave with the transport and the evil man it was carrying. What was left now was only his own concerns. Private worries and fuzzy plans about the future. There was also the tug of love that seemed to gently pull him back from the port window and slowly back down the halls of the habitat ring.

 

 Julian was due to come over for dinner. He was a full-fledged Starfleet doctor once more or so Gaven had heard from Fisk as they walked. Gaven could almost feel the roots of Julian’s life reestablishing their purchase on the station and he knew it was right and good that they did so.

 

For Gaven, the departure of Jeremiah made him feel strangely alone and he was suddenly reminded of how he had come to the station and what had happened in the interval between his return to Vulcan and his time in recovery and confinement when, abused and angry, Starfleet command had decided it was in their best interest to secure him for the Federations sake.

 

When he returned to his quarters he sat down carefully upon his sofa, leaned back, shut his eyes and allowed his perfect recall to play through the day he met Captain Benjamin Sisko the man who was now his handler and his primary advocate in the universe.

 

In the last two years of his life prior to stepping foot on Deep Space Nine, Gaven Ore-Oum had lost quite literally everything. 

 

He’d lost his bonded life mate, his people and planet, and in a few short hours one fateful day when Benjamin Sisko had appeared in his secure room in the psychiatric ward, he had no way of knowing that he was about to give up his very identity. 

 

Looking back, he remembered and felt once more what he had thought and felt later while enroute to what was notably the most strategic Federation controlled space station in existence situated in the Bajoran Sector near the edge of the Gamma Quadrant. 

 

Gaven had felt impossibly weighted down by the nature of his position. It was a position that only a handful of people in the universe knew anything about at that time.

 

It had seemed then that Gaven was destined to step off the transport Sisko had set him later with a new name to match his newly augmented and altered features. He had bothered little to study the strange effects of a human countenance. Upon arriving on Deep Space Nine, Gaven Ore-Oum had become Doctor Gaven Ore. A mysterious human Doctor and Scientist there to provide unique insight into the Changeling species that might soon render an avenue of unprecedented deflection of the domineering changeling faction known as the Dominion.

 

What of Oum? Gaven had silently questioned. 

 

How did one peel a planet from their skin? Could a person ring out their mother culture from their pores like oil from a sponge? How much residue would be doomed to remain?

 

Gaven reflected on the circumstances that had brought him to that impossible precipice he was to face. 

 

His eviction from his obscure homeworld had been unavoidable. While floating about aimlessly in space any number of things could have happened. 

 

He might have, for example, done what he was supposed to have done and died. 

 

Even now, as he laid on his sofa objectively reliving his impressions of the past, Gaven, now, as he’d often done then, debated the wisdom of resisting his prescribed fate. 

 

As always, when he thought about it, the simple conclusion that he always came back to was that he had not been able to help himself. As despondent as he had been over all that had been lost to him, Gaven had not been able to defy his Bondmate’s final wishes for him to live.

 

 Lopel’s wish that Gaven out live him indefinitely was indeed a sin of unprecedented magnitude in a species and culture that demanded that bonded servants ritualistically forfeit their lives upon the demise of their bond holders. His plan to abide by Lopel Ner’s wishes while still leaving enough to chance that death might yet overtake him had permitted Gaven to believe the business to be truly in the hands of fate. Come what may, Gaven had promised himself he would move with Destiny’s traces and designs for him. At the time, he was convinced that no cost could be as great as what he’d already paid.

 

Whether or not he still felt that way now was not the subject of his present reflections.

 

 What was undeniably true was that once he could never go back or go home, Gaven found himself literally at the mercy of strangers from then on out. Some far less benevolent than others.

 

Gaven’s one saving grace in the entire business, he knew, was that the Vulcans had been the species to make first contact with him.

 

In spite of his profound depression in those beginning months of his exile, the pleasure of meeting his first alien and being touched by one of them in such an all-encompassing psychic sharing known as a Mind Meld to the Vulcans or as a Linking to the Oum drove a buoy of greater connection that ever since would become the backbone of his resolve to survive.  Jyrrus Cheval had been more than a simple rescuer. He had become Gaven’s touchstone. A living embodiment of a kind of tether that despite all his isolation, reminded him that he was and never would really be alone.

 

It occurred to him now, perhaps for the first time, that had Gaven stayed with the Vulcans everything might have turned out differently than it had. 

 

In truth, the Vulcan High Council in specific had been eager to harbor Gaven and help him heal from his profound traumas because they understood he carried the history of his civilization within him and possessed a potential all his own that had yet to be realized. They had seen potentials in him that he had not been able to see for himself. Perhaps they were the same potentials Gulevere and even Lopel had seen. 

 

 Gaven had remained in the company of the Vulcans first upon the freighter that had rescued him for several months and then on the Vulcan Homeworld for a few weeks. In all that time he had absorbed much and learned just how rich with life the galaxy really was at least so far as the freighter’s cultural database could enlighten him to. It had been so overwhelming at first that Gaven had spent the first few months on the freighter caught in a self-induced kind of stasis that the Vulcans had encouraged for both Gaven and their own safety.

 

Once buried deep inside himself, Only Cheval had been powerful enough to pull him back out of it so that they could contrive a way to defend the freighter when all other of the ship’s personnel were too wounded to assist. 

 

 The attack on the freighter and Gaven’s use of the old code phrases that meant nothing to the Breen beyond immediate disengagement lest they incur the Dominion’s far-reaching wrath, had always disturbed him. But he had never allowed himself to reflect on why. There had been too much death on the freighter and too much need of his specialized abilities to save those that they could and preserve the memories of those they could not.

 

For this bravery and compassion alone, the Vulcans had reason to ensure he was watched over and given help of his own. They understood that in Gaven there existed only benevolence and an acute predisposition to serve the greater good.

 

The fact that he had been later abducted on Vulcan and temporarily removed from the planet had been another twist of fate and circumstance that Gaven had taken in miraculous stride.

 

It had seemed innocent. 

 

One day while Gaven had been meditating in the Temple of Kar, where he had been given temporary asylum he was interrupted and then introduced to a human individual claiming to be a representative of Starfleet. A human faction of the Federation of Planets centered on the planet Earth; he was told. All the man’s credentials had been in order and although the stranger in question was not familiar to the sitting Vulcan Ambassadors to Earth there had been no obvious reason to doubt the gentleman’s claims. It wasn’t until after the fact and with abrupt response by Starfleet Intelligence that whoever the man was he was not a sanctioned member of the Ambassador core or anyone they could openly identify or acknowledge as their own. 

 

Everything had been fabricated and to such a high degree of detail that many believed it to be some kind of deep state subterfuge. 

 

For Gaven’s part he never knew the official name of his captor. But he could never forget the man’s face which was blazed upon his memory in perfect clarity or the precise and exacting feel of the man’s finger tips as he’d administered months and months of persistent, and invasive interrogation and torture designed to ascertain who Gaven was and what his intentions were.

 

For his part, Gaven endured six months of captivity under the power of this man which he faced with what could only be described as desperate exasperation, bewilderment, and bald-faced honesty. Not once had Gaven resisted the man’s relentless questioning and administrations that was so often expressed through a confounding mixture of empathy and curt determination to fox out every possibility. 

 

Ultimately after six months the men came to a truce. Gaven had apparently won by convincing his captor of his innocence, ignorance of the galaxy’s plight, and the Federation’s interest in it. 

 

In the end his abductor had simply sighed deeply and with resignation, thanked Gaven for his time, apologized for his necessary methods, and reminded him that he would be watched from that point on. Ending with the advice that Gaven would do well to be very careful of who he borrowed his loyalties to in the future. 

 

To Gaven’s great confusion both then and now, he’d eventually found himself dropped back on Vulcan nearly precisely where he’d been plucked, albeit now worn through and psychologically and physically violated.

 

It was at this point that the Vulcans had come to his rescue a second time.

 

Once his presence had been rediscovered the Vulcan High Council had acted and launched a full inquiry and formal complaint against Starfleet Command suggesting a violation to the Prime Directive carried out in Starfleet’s name if not specifically by one of their people. At first Starfleet Command had disavowed the entire business but ultimately Gaven’s version of the events and the unspeakable detail he was able to provide about the experience forced Starfleet Command and the Federation of Planets to reconsider their position on the matter. It was apparent that whoever had targeted Gaven had intimate knowledge of Starfleet’s practices and that was not a problem Starfleet had time to address. 

 

While the advocacy of Gaven’s unknown rights by the Vulcan High Council had been shocking to him, he was even more perturbed to discover that Starfleet Command seemed to nearly justify what had been done to him. Not thinking to lie, when Gaven had transcribed a detailed account of everything that had been said and done in the presence of his captor the information only seemed to heighten Starfleet’s interest in him rather than his assailant.

 

In response, Gaven did not weather this intrigue well. The final straw had come when Starfleet proposed the possibility of reaching out to the Oum homeworld and seeing if they could be drawn out. This idea was so unacceptable to Gaven that it led to a near successful act of desperation on his part to quell their interest in him and thus preserve the integrity of his people’s isolationist status. The result had landed him in a psychiatric facility in a containment cell for his own safety.

 

It was then that Gaven decided that defiance was the end game.

 

Finally, reaching his limits of tolerance Gaven shut down on them all and crumpled under the strain of everyone’s acute attention. He was, after all, just a man who was only newly aware of the fact that he was not alone in the galaxy and that in actuality the galaxy was filled with multitudes of intelligence well beyond his wildest dreams. 

 

This should have been a profound moment of realization for Gaven, but any inscrutable joy and wonder was dampened harshly at the time by the additional understanding that he was a man who was now and forever apart from everything he had ever known, wanted, and cared for. 

 

There was a reason the Oum were a closed society and for the first time in his life Gaven found himself wishing he had left well enough alone.

 

Once more Gaven had landed himself in captivity. Fearful that he might hurt himself and beyond even the reproach of his Vulcan allies, The Vulcan’s had agreed to place him jointly under psychiatric care and observation.  

 

Hungry to learn more about him and possibly delve deeper into the Oum relationship to the Changeling species, Starfleet managed one wise maneuver that was responsible for ultimately bringing Gaven reluctantly into their fold against the Dominion threat and against his better judgement.

 

The secret mission to convince Gaven to work with the Federation and specifically with Starfleet, was quietly dropped into the lap of Captain Benjamin Sisko currently stationed in the Bajoran Sector of the Gamma Quadrant where he had taken command of Deep Space Nine and been rooted there now for some time.

 

 It was Starfleet Command’s opinion that Benjamin had the right kind of demeanor that could reach Gaven and given the Captain's intimate understanding of the front lines of the Dominion conflict Starfleet Command had high hopes Benjamin could appeal to Gaven’s high minded principles.

 

So, unbeknownst to anyone, Benjamin had come on a short trip back to HQ to meet the alien man face to face and see what he could do.

 

“I think I’ve made it clear that I don’t want to talk to anyone else.” Gaven had remarked the day that Benjamin had showed up in his neatly set up cell.

 

 “Let's get one thing straight. My name is Captain Benjamin Sisko and, so far as you and I are concerned, now and from this point forward you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

 

Upon hearing this, Gaven only raised his eyes slowly from his lap to peer at Benjamin as if he were trying to measure something. 

 

After an extended amount of time Gaven finally spoke. “Well well, Captain. Won’t you come and have a seat near me. Contrary to all appearances I assure you I am quite harmless.”

 

Gaven had looked worse for the wear. He’d clearly been freely crying and at great length. His face and throat still bearing reflective moisture in the dim light of the space. Gaven’s wrists were in restraints with strange mittens covering his hands that were resistant to electromagnetic fluctuations.

 

“To everyone else but yourself perhaps.” Benjamin remarked before walking farther into the room and pulling up a chair behind him which he turned backwards and sat down upon.

 

“Just a touch of despondency.” Gaven muttered flatly. “You’re a human, yes?”

 

“Yes. Why do you ask?” Benjamin inquired hoping to draw the man out.

 

“Humans. You look so different from person to person. It’s quite remarkable. The human who took me, looked entirely different than you do. Different height, complexion, eye color, weight distribution...All of it different. Every human I’ve seen has been completely unique so far. Just...Fascinating.” Gaven rambled.

 

“Did he hurt you?” Benjamin asked blandly and with flat concern.

 

Gaven didn’t pull his eyes away from Benjamin. In fact, he made sure to look the Captain full in the eyes as he nodded slowly.

 

Neither spoke for a while and Benjamin waited for Gaven to find the strength to speak about his experience. Benjamin noted with some awe how controlled and tempered Gaven was despite being traumatized.

 

“He was trying to determine who I was. He knew that the Breen ship that attacked the freighter were repelled only when they realized I was on board. He claimed that it had been discovered that the Breen by way of the Dominion knew of my species and that the Dominion had given explicit orders to disengage.” Gaven explained.

 

“Why?” Benjamin asked. 

 

“As I told my captor, the Changeling species and my own have an ancient relationship. I can only assume it is the nature of that relationship that the changelings would prefer to keep to themselves.” He answered bluntly. “I don’t know the reason for these things, Captain. I’m just a man. Not even an incredibly significant one among my kind."

 

Benjamin nodded lightly. "I believe you. Although what information you have disclosed about yourself suggests that your aptitudes, abilities and experiences are in significant demand and could go far in furthering the greater good and bringing this conflict to heel. Realistically, you're going to be of interest to people no matter what you do or where you go now. As for this relationship you speak of, it’s possible that it really may be a valuable key to ending disputes peacefully with the Changelings."

 

"Changelings. You mean this...Dominion. I've been told about what's happening in the galaxy. I find the thought of such insidious conflict unimaginable. Then again, here I am. You will forgive me Captain. But what I've been told is in direct conflict with what the Oum are taught and have been taught about the species. This Dominion must be a derivative group of the source species." Gaven argued.

 

"Perhaps. Although attitudes can be reshaped over thousands of years. Still, I want to agree with you since I have personally meant an exception." Sisko remarked.

 

At this Gaven's attention sharpened.

 

"You've met a singular changeling?" Gaven inquired sharply.

 

"Not just met. I happen to consider him a colleague and my friend. Where I come from aliens of all kinds live and work together in harmony and cooperation. Some just work on the space station while others consider it their permanent home." Benjamin explained.

 

"More space dwellers. Fascinating. I take it someone has sent you here to convince me of the merits of something. So far, the Vulcan's have offered me asylum and my kidnapper has offered me warning. Well Captain? What would you care to throw into the pot?" Gaven murmured miserably.

 

"I'm not here to offer you anything." Sisko muttered.

 

"Why are you here then?" Gaven asked.

 

"Curiosity, maybe. Concern. Hope. The Dominion has made it clear that who they can't control they will subdue or even destroy.  Whole worlds are at stake. I'm asking for your help and your insight." Sisko explained.

 

Gaven nodded. "I suppose the thing you're politely not saying is that I don't have a choice because sooner or later the Dominion will come for everyone in this galaxy. There's no real escape unless you or others find a means to repel them."

 

Sisko nodded solemnly. 

 

"My father told me once when I found my own life in shambles that I could choose to be a master of my own destiny or let fate push me around as it liked. I'm telling you the same thing. While I would like your help, it needs to be your choice. You're a free being and have the right to lead your own life." Sisko said.

 

"The right to choose. Or the rite of choice, Captain?" Gaven said, not expecting a reply. "Freedom and autonomy seem very precious to the universe at large. The Oum are not driven by such things. But I admire the sentiment and suppose it may be something to adopt at some point." 

 

Benjamin nodded slowly. He'd been briefed about the Oum, limited as the information had been.

 

"I know you've got a long way to go. Now that you're in exile it's understandable that you may need time to recover and discover what you want for yourself. Can you tell me something you want right now?"

 

Gaven’s eyes flickered and then he started to laugh. It was a strange and uncertain sound that was born from the fact that it had been so long since he'd tried.

 

"Do you know, Captain? Do you know that you are the first person to ask me that since before I left my home planet?" Gaven began to laugh again this time stronger and with more true amusement.

 

Eventually he sobered. "I think I would enjoy some anonymity and time to think about everything. This station of yours is heavily populated, no?"

 

"We have a great diversity of people and cultures. The station enjoys the advantage of being on the edge of the Federation frontier." Benjamin remarked.

 

"As well as the disadvantage of being on the frontlines, I suppose." He muttered.

 

"Yes."  Benjamin agreed.

 

Gaven stared at him then thoughtfully.

 

"I like you, Captain. I can see why they picked you to come to me. Can I ask you something personal?"

 

Benjamin nodded gravely.

 

"You should know they've allowed me to read your service record. I see that you are not devoid of loss and brevity. I'm...Sorry for your loss. When it happened how did you go on?" Gaven's tone shuddered and grew weak as fresh grief shown in his features.

 

Sisko recognized the sound in Gaven's voice. He would have recognized it even if he had never known any details about the alien man.

 

"I didn't want to go on." Benjamin's said bluntly. "For a long time, I wasn't even sure I could. But I had my son with me, and it would have been beyond cruel to allow him to lose both of us. For a while, I walked away. I needed time more than anything else. But I think of anything that made a difference, the difference came when other people started believing in me when I didn't believe in myself. I decided because of them that I wanted to do meaningful things and when an offer came to make a difference, I took it."

 

They didn't speak for a long time.

 

"I'm sorry. But I just don’t think I can help you or anyone else." Gaven said.

 

"Maybe not." Benjamin conceded. "But you'll never know if you don't find out. You are your own person. You owe nothing to anyone and, as far as I can see, we haven't left a very good impression on you so far in this quadrant. You want time? I can give you that. I can give you anonymity too. But mostly I'm prepared to give you my belief that somehow in some way you can and will make a difference if you want to."

 

Benjamin had stayed with him after that. Told him about his life. About his experiences on earth and elsewhere. He had talked about his many station mates like some talked about their blood kin. Ben was an unusual man in speech and temperament. He was serious and at times also whimsical. Never presumptuous or prying with a very dry sense of humor. He never asked questions about Gaven except when it came to how he had been treated off world.

 

When it had been time three days later for Benjamin to return to his far-off station, Gaven had given his final opinion on Starfleet’s request for his assistance and help. He told them that he would only help the Federation's and specifically Starfleet’s cause if Benjamin would act as his handler and representative in the matter and protect Gaven's rights such as they were until he could make his own plans.

 

In the end Benjamin had agreed and with the help of the Vulcan's to augment Gaven's appearance and generate an alias he eventually took the needed aptitude testing which cemented the final nature and aspects of his cover. The rest was now history.

 

Gaven slowly opened his eyes and sighed. Was he satisfied with how everything had turned out? Yes. Benjamin’s belief in him had not been misguided. Gaven’s contributions on the station were sound and the relationships he had cultivated were strong and genuine. In his time on the station, he’d touched so many lives it almost brought him to tears because he knew he would remember each one no matter how small all the days of his life. Whatever else the future held he was glad of this. It pleased him that so many people he liked and knew liked him back and would think of him fondly.

 

He also thought of Julian specifically and marveled still at how much he felt for him and how proud he was to be treated as a peer and equal by Julian and the rest. 

 

He thought that he understood better now why the Oum, by contrast. seemed so harsh in their beliefs and cultural practices. Though it was pointless now, Gaven wondered if the Oum would ever be capable of changing their ways. He saw now what his people could become, now he saw the outline of the secret dream that Lopel had selfishly sought to harbor only for himself. They had played at the fantasy of equality, mayhap Lopel Ner even believed they were equal. But it had not really been so. If it had been Lopel Ner would have allowed Gaven true choice. He would have let Gaven do with himself what he pleased and permitted him to share his genetics across a wide pool instead of trying to keep Gaven all to himself.

 

Gaven felt a twinge of longing twist along the muscular wall of his abdomen and splayed his palm across it. It was no longer a longing specifically rooted in his former bond with Lopel but a general longing all his own. 

 

After a while, the computer chimed a reminder and Gaven got up to start preparing dinner. It had taken some testing to find the right correlating spice substitutes and the correct species of spider that would be likened to what he had back home but thanks to some recommendations by both Quark and Worf, Gaven felt he could duplicate his favorite meal well enough. He might even prefer the version he had in mind because it was his and not merely a regurgitation of someone else's excellence and good taste.

 

Julian arrived promptly on time and both men found each other in high spirits and harboring grateful hearts at the turn of their individual good fortune.

 

Chapter 49: Lacking Aesthetics

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

[1]Chapter Forty-Nine: Lacking Aesthetics

 

“Wait. What was the stew made of?” Kira asked, unsure if she’d heard correctly.

 

“A type of large tarantula originated on Q’ono’S.” Julian remarked as he took drinks with Kira and Dax the afternoon after his reinstatement. 

 

“When you say large,” Kira began.

 

“Large as dinner plates and that’s just the thorax. They’re considered a national delicacy and are usually grilled. I’ve never had them stewed before.” Dax explained, chuckling at the horrified look on Kira’s face. “I’ll have to get the recipe and the name of the station’s supplier so I can try it out on Worf sometime. Where is Gaven right now?”

 

“In the infirmary working. The station doesn’t really need two doctors but Jeremiah sort of set a trend when he came on and people have gotten used to the idea of having an available doctor in the infirmary 24-7 even though I’ve always been willing in the past to take patients at all hours.” Julian muttered. “I didn’t mind so much when there were three of us but with Gaven alternating with me…”

 

”I see. I bet it kind of cuts into your time together.” Kira nodded sympathetically.

 

“Why don’t you just go back to regular hours and have alternating days or do them together?” Dax asked.

 

“I would but there just isn’t enough general traffic to justify us both being on duty at the same time. I don’t even think Gaven really wants to be a doctor, not that he’s not good at it.”

 

“Is he qualified for other jobs on the station? I mean, has he talked about being interested in other occupations?” Kira inquired.

 

“He admitted once that being a healer wasn’t his chief interest and that he perhaps would prefer something more in the arena of civil management.” Julian remarked.

 

“I guess that makes sense. I asked Gaven once about the kind of people that led his household. He mentioned that Gulevere was a linguistics specialist and that he was a prominent figure in the Republica. It’s pretty apparent that he picked up the elements of diplomacy while he served his house. He clearly cares a lot about people and taking care of them in general.” Dax said.

 

“I don’t think Gaven has any specific love of politics although you're right. Oum society is very political and Gaven often traveled with Gulevere as his protégé and servant.” Julian said.

 

“Yeah, but that wasn’t who he was, uh, you know. Bonded with?” Kira asked, unsure of her own information on the subject.

 

“No. Lopel Ner was Gaven’s Bondmate. Lopel only inherited Gaven’s bond after Gulevere died. It seems for nearly half his life he served directly under Gulevere and was specifically trained to handle Gulevere’s business and later Lopel Ner’s in the Republica.” Julian explained.

 

“All that training and education and he still was just a glorified mouthpiece. What a waste.” Kira lamented.

 

“Yes. But Gaven doesn’t look at it that way so let’s not color things we don’t really understand.” Julian warned them. “Now as I recall, you called us here to celebrate something and there isn’t enough of us here for it to be my reinstatement so spill.” Julian remarked to Kira, effectively changing the subject.

 

“Oh. I just got word that Tekeny Gehmor is arriving in the morning. This is huge. This may mean we’re finally going to have someone with real experience leading us against the Dominion, someone who could really stand up for Cardassia and work with Bajor in successful unison. Gehmor practically led the Cardassian Dissident movement. He’s considered a hero among Bajoran’s and Cardassian sympathizers and he’s maybe one of the best men I’ve ever known.” Kira proclaimed.

 

“She’s been going on about him practically all day.” Dax muttered.

 

“Alright, alright. I know, but he really is important, and I just can’t believe he’s coming here.” Kira gushed. 

 

“Well on that note. I’m afraid I must beg off. Now that I’m back on the regular schedule I have reports to write before I call it for the night. Ladies.” Julian tipped his glass towards them and downed the last of his drink before he took off back to his quarters.

 

“Well, he seems happy. I take it things are going well between he and, huh,” Kira made a knowing face.

 

“You know, I think so.” Dax replied. “Although Julian’s right about their conflicting schedules. That’s going to get old pretty soon if they can’t spend enough time together. I don’t worry so much about Gaven but I know how Julian can get about these things.”

 

“I don’t understand. They often alternated shifts before and managed.” Kira pointed out.

 

“Yes, but Jeremiah was always there to handle things when they both needed time away from work. Julian’s right. The workload doesn’t really warrant having two doctors. Not now that our research is well in hand and the action on the station has calmed down.” Dax observed.

 

“I guess they’re just going to have to figure it out.” Kira said with a sigh.

 

“I guess so. Whatever happens, something is going to break eventually.” Dax said decidedly. 

 

~@~

 

The next day, as expected, an over-the-moon Kira welcomed Tekeny Gehmor to the station. At first her exuberance for the elder Cardassian was somewhat shocking and disgruntling to Worf who had accompanied her along with Jadzia to meet the distinguished man. But he managed to curb his dislike at least externally once he realized that Kira really did consider Tekeny to be her surrogate father and family member.

 

For Tekeny’s part, he seemed both happy and worn down in equal parts although Kira didn’t really grasp this until later when she had brought him to his especially calibrated quarters. It was only upon pressing him to reveal his feelings about her proposal to set up a government in exile centralized on Deep Space Nine where Tekeny with Kira’s help they could begin to sway the Cardassian people by having Tekeny transmit regular messages into Cardassia designed to correct the propaganda of Dukat and the Dominion. Meanwhile, he could mobilize his old connections among the surviving dissident movement to push back and bring about positive change. It was at this point that Tekeny finally revealed to her why he wouldn’t be able to make her ideas a reality.

 

Tekeny was dying it seemed.

 

“The prognosis isn’t good.” Julian explained gravely once he’d run tests to confirm for Kira what Tekeny had already told her. “The disease has already spread throughout your digestive tract, your circulatory and respiratory systems, and your cartilaginous tissue.” 

 

“How much time do I have left?” Tekeny asked as Kira looked on with a sick stricken expression.

 

“I’m not sure.” Julian admitted as he quietly ran statistical probabilities through his mind. “There are still some treatments we can try. Hexardrin therapy or neuro-regeneration procedures.”

 

Tekeny nodded. “I appreciate anything you can do.”

 

He then looked at Kira. “I’m sorry, Nyres. I’m afraid this isn’t going the way you had planned.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry about me. The important thing is to get you well.” She assured him gently, nodding to Julian in silent agreement that he would in fact do everything in his power to help the man.

 

Julian certainly planned to try but he already knew it was a losing gambit. Nothing could alter the fact that Tekeny’s illness was terminal and it was only going to be a matter of time now before he succumbed to the disease.

 

While Kira, Tekeny and Julian puzzled out the nuances of their medical predicament, Benjamin was having his own problems in the form of an unsolicited communication from Gul Dukat.

 

“You can justify yourself later, Dukat. I’m a busy man.” Benjamin pressed as he was forced to listen to Dukat drone out his propaganda about the fringe benefits of siding with the Dominion. 

 

“Very well.” Dukat conceded on an exhale. “We have reason to believe you have one of our citizens on board your station. A certain Tekeny Ghemor. Formerly a legate in the Cardassian Central Command.”

 

“And if we do,” Benjamin demanded, still waiting for Dukat to get to his point. 

 

“Well,” Dukat said calmly. “We want him back. To put it mildly, he has alot to answer for.”

 

“I will take your request under advisement.” Benjamin replied evenly. “But considering the Federation doesn’t recognize your government and that Cardassia has never agreed to an extradition treaty with Bajor or the Federation...You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

 

At that, Benjamin gleefully cut off the transmission channel effectively hanging up in Gul Dukat’s face.

 

~@~

 

As they days rolled on Kira spent as much time with Ghemor as she could.  Being the closest thing he had to living kin, it was Ghemor’s intention to pass on his cultural and political secrets to Kira as was tradition to then do with as she saw fit. Meanwhile, Julian setup a hospice in Gehmor’s room and proceeded with the Hexadrin therapy and a pain control regimen to help keep him comfortable while Nyres sat at his side as his caregiver.

 

The experience was grueling for everyone involved, especially for Kira who harbored some doubt about the wisdom of Ghemor entrusting her with his life secrets. Julian wasn’t holding up much better since it was always stressful to contend with a terminal prognosis he couldn’t avoid in a patient.

 

“Are you going to be alright?” Gaven asked as they sat together one evening in Gaven’s quarters.

 

Julian sighed. “I’m tired but no one is as tired as Nyres is right now. All I can do at this point is support everyone as best as my medical expertise and compassion allow.”

 

Gaven laced his fingers with Julian’s and squeezed. “I know how hard these things are and I know you’ll do the best you can.”

 

Julian smiled at his reassurance. Gaven was certainly no stranger to the powerless feeling he felt when faced with a situation he couldn’t control. He’d stood at enough bedsides of his own of the terminally sick and wounded both on Oum and more predominantly off it. 

 

“Why don’t we focus on someone I can help get better. Gaven what do you say about letting me have a crack at that leg in the morning? The correction shouldn’t put you out too much. You’ll probably still have to walk with support until we can strengthen the muscles but I have no reason to believe that you wouldn’t fully recover and walk normally again without any pain or disability.” Julian asked.

 

“Alright, Doctor. I’ve held you off long enough. Besides pretty quickly here if I don’t get it fixed, I’m going to have to cut back on my sparing lessons. I’ll let you schedule surgery in the morning after you get a proper night sleep.” Gaven relented.

 

“FINALLY.” Julian muttered dramatically. “Thank you. We’ll plan to do it first thing.”

 

Julian leaned in pecking Gaven on the cheek but when this didn’t seem sufficient, they kissed properly, and Julian began his plan to seduce Gaven for the evening when the computer abruptly went into red alert.

 

“What’s that?” Gaven said gathering his wits as he quickly began to untangle himself from Julian’s arms.

 

“I don’t know. Stay here. I’ll try to find out.” Julian swiftly stood and raced out of Gaven’s quarters.

 

For his part, Gaven frowned and moved to his window on instinct to look out into the void of space for whatever impending trouble was now upon them. When he looked, he saw what the fuss was about. A Jem’Hadar battleship had appeared near the station and no doubt had taken a threatening stance. Gaven could imagine it was probably Gul Dukat or someone here on his behalf now that it was known that Tekeny Ghemor was being harbored on the station.

 

The wheels of politics never were to be subdued it seemed.

 

~@~

 

As things turned out it was indeed Gul Dukat in the flesh demanding to be allowed to board the station to try and reason with Tekeny personally. To everyone’s surprise when he arrived, he had a familiar lackey of the Dominion in tow.

 

Weyoun.

 

Or more accurately as Weyoun explained, he was really a new Weyoun. The latest and fifth clone incarnation presently serving as a Dominion liaison and advisor to Gul Dukat. Benjamin saw him as simply an additional nuisance. Against everyone’s better judgement Gul Dukat was granted an audience with Tekeny under the watchful supervision of Kira. The encounter was intense with the pained Ghemor holding his ground with Kira’s support even after Dukat dangled the bait of Ghemor’s long missing daughter in his face which he passed up citing that returning to Cardassia was too high a price to pay even for the possibility of information about his only progeny. For this, Kira was proud. 

 

As the days of sleepless endless caregiving wore on, everyone walked carefully around Kira offering her support where they could in their individual ways. Even Quark who usually delighted in flirting with and doubly antagonizing Kira for sport was unusually docile and compassionate towards her bringing her warm milk instead of a stiff drink to help ease her ills which he didn’t even charge her for.

 

In spite of Ghemor’s resistance, Dukat revealed he planned to stick around for a while to give the man time to think about his offer and in the interim he moved forward with seeding doubt in the compromised Kira by dropping the little nugget that her beloved surrogate father had served in the Cardassian military and had been a participant in the destruction of the Kiessa Monastery during the occupation that had resulted in the deaths of seventeen defenseless monks who had been accused of hiding weapons on behalf a the Bajoran resistance.

 

Weakened by fatigue and intrigue Kira had not followed her own advice about ignoring Dukat’s baiting.

 

As Kira fought with her Bajoran demons, Gaven followed suit per his agreement to allow Julian to correct the damage in his leg. The surgery was quick but per Julian’s warning and because he’d waited so long Gaven was still destined to walk with a limp for the immediate time being.  Although he’d graduated to just using a cane instead of a forearm crutch to support himself while he healed and went through physical therapy. Julian also warned Gaven that Dukat was presently on the station for an indeterminate amount of time. The knowledge made Gaven shudder and he did his best to stay clear of anywhere he might run into the man although not even his precautions could protect him completely since he still had to work and go about his duties.

 

For the moment Gaven was neither at work nor at home. He was sitting in Quark’s taking his dinner and looking strangely melancholy.

 

As he sat, he heard Leeta sweep through the crowd with Quark fast on her heels. Apparently, they were caught up in an argument.

 

“Listen, sugar lips. I don’t care if it’s your engagement party or not you still have to put in for time off if you want it and it’s still at my discretion to give it to you. And I just can’t afford to let you out of your shift on our busiest night.” Quark argued.

 

“Like hell you can’t. You knew perfectly well when we were planning on having this party. I am not the only waitress in this dump. Get someone else to cover the shift.” Leeta demanded.

 

“Of course, I have other wait staff. But we both know that none of them have your degree of...Assets. No. I’m sorry but I can’t give you the time off. Not on the days you requested.” Quark insisted.

 

“But I put in my request two months ago.” Leeta protested. “Don’t you give a flying damn about Rom’s feelings? It’s his engagement party too.” 

 

“No. And why should I? Did he ever stop to consider how I feel about all this? Did he ever ask me for my blessing? Or consider what it might do to me to have one of my best waitresses snapped away from me all so he can play a little house. You know he’s been married before and look how that turned out. Frankly, I don’t know what you see in him.” Quark muttered lightly.

 

“You’re despicable.” Leeta spat in disgust.

 

“Aw. You flatter me. Look. Do what you want. But if you don’t show up next week, I can’t be held responsible for what could happen.” Quark warned her.

 

“Are you threatening to fire me?” Leeta demanded crossly.

 

“Read your contract. I’m perfectly within my rights. This company's stance on unapproved absences is admittedly harsh but also iron clad. Read it and weep, sister.”

 

“Is that so?” Leeta said in outrage. “Well fine.”

 

Out of nowhere Quark suddenly found the front of his shirt being seized up by Leeta as they practically pressed noses and then in a terrifyingly commanding voice she proclaimed “I QUIT.”

 

Throwing Quark back in a hard shove she then tore off her apron and stormed out from behind the bar heading straight for the exit.

 

Quark obviously wasn’t prepared to be physically assaulted and it didn’t help matters that he had a secret thing for powerful and domineering women manhandling him. A certain Klingon ex-wife of Quark’s came to mind just then.

 

Boy what a charmed life he did lead.

 

Still reeling, Quark suddenly felt a firm hand grip him by the upper arm and plop him down into a stool.

 

“You OK?” Gaven asked, waiting to let go until Quark shooed him off.

 

“No. My best waitress just quit on me. The ingratitude, I tell you what.” Quark growled as he tugged his vest straight.

 

“I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe she’ll come back around once she cools off.” Gaven sympathized.

 

“Nothing about THAT woman is ever cool.” Quark remarked.

 

“Why is she so upset anyway?” Gaven inquired, settling down next to Quark at the bar.

 

“She wanted time off for her engagement party and I wouldn’t give it to her. Not the whole weekend, anyway. I’ve got a business to run here.” Quark muttered indignantly.

 

“I don’t know. It seems to me a little compromise wouldn’t have hurt any. I’m told engagement parties are something of an important life event.” Gaven remarked.

 

“What do they need a pre party for? they're already getting married. Trust me when I tell you that weddings are a full-blown affair all their own.” Quark dejectedly muttered. 

 

“Look, I believe you, but I still think it was a bit petty of you not to give her the time off she requested. I admit I overheard most of your argument.” Gaven confessed.

 

“Well good. Then you saw how unreasonable she was being. Trust me, give it a few days and she’ll come crawling back here. I’m soon to be family after all.” Quark insisted.

 

“Fine, but what are you going to do in the meantime?” Gaven inquired. 

 

“Hire some temporary help. What else? Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to ask. You wouldn’t happen to be in the market for a second job, would you?” Quark eyed Gaven speculatively sidelong.

 

Gaven scoffed. “You want me as a wait staff?”

 

“Well why not? Everyone likes you. You’re great with people. You're efficient, punctual, attentive and you're not that hard on the eyes when you want to be. You’d be a shoe in. Why not come on temporarily just to try it. Do it for me? It’ll be fun.” Quark encouraged him.

 

“You’re really that desperate.” Gaven mused.

 

“Yes, and when I’m desperate I have no shame. It’s not like you’re a Federation citizen anyway. You’re not going to have the benefit of living free and high like these human’s do. Outside of the Federation, if you want to get anywhere you need some cold hard latinum or the equivalent. Federation credits don’t get you much in some places.” Quark remarked.

 

This was a valid point and they both knew it.

 

“Alright, Quark. Assuming I’ll consider it what’s your offer?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Guh, you ask the sweetest things. Tell you what since you’d be doing me a favor, I’ll offer thirty percent above the usual wage rate. Two free meals on workdays and my undying gratitude.” Quark bargained.

 

“How generous of you. I’ll agree to your terms if you agree to give Leeta the days she asked for off and any days she asks for right after she and Rom wed. You seem so confident she’s going to come back to work after all.” Gaven countered.

 

Quark narrowed his eyes at Gaven. The man was annoyingly good at negotiating and Quark found it rather hard to deny him. “Fine. But only IF she comes back. You have yourself a deal. Find out when the Captain is willing to let you off your leash and then report back here for training. Oh and, huh, Gaven. Do me a favor and wear that green number of yours. Empires are built on pretty faces.”

 

“They also fall because of them.” Gaven quipped. “But alright Mr. Quark. I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“That’s all I ask.” Quark demurred, now recovered enough to go back to tending his bar.

 

~@~

 

Gaven did stop in to speak with Benjamin. They were due for their weekly chat anyway which Ben never put off no matter how busy or chaotic things were on the station.

 

“You want to work in Quarks? Why?” Benjamin inquired as they sat at a small table in his office having coffee.

 

“It’s something different. Quark isn’t wrong. It might be wise to earn a little latinum on the side and besides service is a specialty of mine. Do you object?” Gaven asked.

 

“No.” Benjamin mused. “I don’t see any harm in it as long as you understand that Quark doesn’t always work on the up and up. If this is something you want to pursue, then I support you in it. It might even be fun for you. And it will certainly give you more control over your schedule. I imagine working in the Infirmary may be getting a little complicated now.” 

 

A shy smile graced Gaven’s features as he looked down into the black center of his coffee cup. “You know.”

 

“I know enough.” Benjamin agreed. “Your private life is your own business. I know things haven’t been easy for you.”

 

“It is better that I slowly start to wean off my doctoring duties. It is after all not who I really am and now that Julian’s fully back he really doesn’t need me there with him.” Gaven said softly.

 

“Well, you’ll always be Doctor Ore to me. Consider it honorary. I appreciate everything you’ve done for my people here Gaven. It’s above and beyond anything I expected of you.” Benjamin said.

 

“It’s been my pleasure, Captain.  The people on this station are very special. I know I haven’t always appreciated being here, but I do now. I’m glad I agreed to come to Deep Space Nine. It’s been an experience quite beyond my wildest imaginings.” Gaven agreed.

 

“You could stay indefinitely. And even if you don’t I want you to know you’re always welcome on this station.” Benjamin assured him.

 

“Thank you, Ben.”

 

Gaven didn’t bother to argue the point of making the station his home. Benjamin was well aware of his intentions and feelings on the subject and had always encouraged him to do what he thought was right.

 

“So. Are you going to tell Julian, or am I?” Benjamin inquired, as an amused grin blossomed onto his mouth.

 

“Do you think he’s going to object?” Gaven inquired.

 

“I guess you’re about to find out.” Benjamin remarked.

 

~@~

 

“What did you say?” Julian asked.

 

He’d popped over to Gaven’s quarters on his break only to find him sitting at his bathroom table carefully applying cosmetics and dressed in green.

 

“Leeta quit this morning. Quark is confident it’s just for show but on the off chance it isn’t I offered to take over her shifts for a while.” Gaven said evenly.

 

“You’ve offered to work for Quark? But what about the infirmary?” Julian looked confused.

 

“Julian, do you ever read the briefs I send to you? I’ve already run the idea by the Captain, and he’s given me his blessing to do with my time what I please. Besides now that we’re involved it’s technically a conflict of interest for us to be working together like we have and by doing this I can help sync our schedules so that we can spend more quality time together. Plus...I think it might be fun.”

 

“Do I get any say in this.” Julian protested flatly.

 

“No.” Finished, Gaven stood up and fashioned his leg brace so that he wouldn’t have to use his cane and then came towards Julian to cup his face and kiss him. “This is something I want to do, Julian. It’s something different. I’m not going to be a Doctor forever and it's important I start making other professional connections. I have to leave now and get acquainted with Quark’s duties. Why don’t you come by Quark’s after your shift? We’ll have a drink.”

 

Gaven kissed him again and headed out of his quarters leaving a frowning Julian behind.

 

“No good is going to come of this.” Julian muttered out loud shaking his head and glaring at the ceiling. Gaven was better than Quark’s and they both knew it but then again even Julian had to concede it was one of the better ventures being run on the station. Quark did know just about everybody and he and Gaven were apparently friends. “I don’t like it. Not at all.”

 

~@~

 

When Julian went back to work, he was almost immediately called to Ghemor’s beside and was confronted with the reality that Ghemor was approaching the final stages of death. It would be only hours now. He was further baffled and pained by the discovery that Kira had stopped coming to see him and that Ghemor was suffering more than he deserved to because of her absence. This dismayed and upset Julian greatly and after stabilizing and making Ghemor comfortable as best he could Julian went out in search of Kira.

 

He found her hiding out in her quarters.

 

Upon being let in Julian stuffed his bad feelings into himself and took on an unassuming informative stance more becoming of the compassionate and considered doctor that he was.

 

“Um. I thought you should know, that, huh, that Ghemor’s condition had deteriorated. He’ll be dead within the hour.” Julian slowly walked into the room toward Kira.

 

Kira practically stared at him as if she hadn’t heard and turned away to face her alter once more. “Thank you for the information, Doctor.”

 

“Is that it?” Julian rasped. Thank you for the information?”

 

He had a truly pained look upon his face as he continued to slowly advance on her.  “Ghemor is dying.”

 

Kira spun away as if to evade him. “I heard you.”

 

“Major, he wants to see you.” Julian pressed.

 

“Well, I don’t want to see him.” Her words rang soft like that of a wounded child as she settled at her terminal and avoided looking at him.

Julian saw this as a good sign. It meant he might still be able to reason with her. Convince her to err on the side of what he knew she really wanted deep down.

 

“Major, please.” Julian’s expression softened. “It’s almost over. There’s no more questions to ask. No more work to be done. Just...Go to his quarters and sit with him.”

 

“I said no. Don’t ask me again.” She insisted.

 

A pained confused look came over Julian’s features at her blatant resistance. “Fine. You must do what you want. But I think you’re making a mistake. Regardless of what Ghemor’s done in the past, he doesn’t deserve to die alone. Nobody does.”

 

Seeing there was nothing more to be done Julian simply turned and slowly retreated the way he’d come as Kira defiantly glared into his back as the past that so often haunted her played out behind her eyes. 

 

One of her greatest private regrets had been that she had not had it in her to be there when her own beloved father had laid dying in the caverns of their resistance cell. It would haunt her forever to know that he had died calling out her name and that she had refused those calls in his final hours. When she’d stood over his lifeless body, she recalled how she hadn’t cried. And she remembered the sober loneliness of digging her father's grave during the final light in the skies of Bajor that same night after she’d gone on yet another raid to kill more Cardassians. There had been nothing left to say on that lonely craig. Nothing left to do but to keep hating. Keep fighting to the bitter end.

 

As Kira thought about it all it occurred to her that this time there was nothing left to hate but her memories. Tekeny Ghemor was some of the only family she had left and maybe just maybe this time there was something left to say.

 

Kira did eventually go, and soon enough Julian announced Ghemor’s passing and cause of death. Cause of death, CNS failure brought on by Yarim Fel Syndrome. 

 

“Major we’re done here.” Julian said quietly after he’d called the time and cause of death. 

 

 “That’s it?” Kira looked up from her hunched position, this time tears were visible in her eyes. “A quick postmortem. A statement from the witness and paperwork? Seems so straight forward.”

 

“It never is.” Julian replied.

 

“He got so quiet.” Kira went on. ”Toward the end. I...I could hear him whispering things. His wife’s name. Iliana’s...Even mine. Then the pain just got too much for him and he’d just lay there breathing. And at the end of every exhale there was this pause and I thought; that’s it. It’s over. And then he’d force another breath. And another. I started counting them. One hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred. He fought for every last second. I don't think he even knew that I was there.”

 

Julian stared into her. “He knew. You gave him what he needed. He didn’t die alone.”

 

“Maybe he gave me something I needed.” Kira bobbed her head mildly. “I missed my father’s death by less than an hour. Did you know that? Less than an hour. I always told myself that it was...Bad luck. Bad timing. Will of the Prophets. But the truth is I didn’t have to go when I did. I coulda stayed a while longer. I saw my chance to get out and I took it. I saw so much death during the Occupation, I felt so much pain...But my father. He was my strength and I...I couldn’t stand to see that strength slipping away. So, I ran.”

 

“Just like you tried to run from Ghemor.” Julian said gravely.

 

“He reminded me so much of my father,” Kira noted. “Going through it again, I..I just couldn’t face it.”

 

“But in the end, you did.” He reminded her. “You were there for Ghemor.

 

Kira nodded, her eyes slipping tears. “I owed it to him. I owed it to my father. To get it right this time.” 

 

~@~

 

While Ghemor’s final hours had mounted and the Captain had been busy keeping Dukat in check as he prowled around the station with Weyoun in tow, Gaven had been training with Quark. It was a smooth business. Gaven generally knew how to carry trays and unobtrusively shadow the bar while keeping his eyes open. His perfect recall also meant that he only had to see something once to get it down. It was a strange contrast to watch him serve and take orders because he was so very good at it and because his undeniable striking beauty and tall masculine frame made many patrons notice him. Gaven’s naivety about the impact he had on people when he presented himself this way only made him seem more appealing since he never seemed to get flustered when the occasional patron hit on him or spilled their drink. As the day progressed Quark sales figures had inflated by nearly fifteen percent.

 

“Rom, that Oum might be the best thing that ever happened to me. For once we might stand a fighting chance even with the Ferengi Commerce Society snubbing us. You think Gaven has any other talents? Singing? Dancing? Anything? Nevermind. You’ve never been a good judge of talent. Or women for that matter.” Quark muttered as he watched the floor from one of his hidey-holes.

 

“Brother, I know Leeta quit but, huh, maybe you could hold her job for a while in case she changes her mind.” Rom requested.

 

“Leeta? Leeta who? Nobody works here by that name.” Quark mused lightly, not yet ready to forgive her audacity just yet. I can always use more help. If someone wants to work for me all they have to do is ask. Begging would be a nice additional touch.” 

 

“This whole thing between you two is silly. When are you going to accept that Leeta is smart and someone who loves me? Sometimes I think you treat her badly on purpose.” Rom complained.

 

“Love you? What about me. What about all the love I have for you? I let you work for me, I look out for you. What do you need another fe-male for? What good are they?” Quark argued.

 

“Oh. It’s impossible talking to you. Sooner or later you’re going to have to face the fact that I love Leeta and...I want to marry her. You know there just might come a day brother when occasionally helping you here isn’t good for me anymore. There’s more to profit than just latinum. Like friends and...and...family.” Rom argued.

 

“Rom, I don’t need more family. I have Moogie, you, and Nog. That’s it. What I need is some reliable help around here that isn’t going to throw a tantrum every time they don’t get their way. You want to get married, that's your business. The management of this bar is mine. Now get back to helping me or go find something else to do somewhere else. Please.” Quark requested turning his attention back to the floor.

 

Rom scowled but did as his brother bid him. 

 

In another part of the bar near the Dabo table an annoyed Dukat watched on as Weyoun delighted in the game. Eventually they were confronted by Benjamin who presented them with a bottle of Kanar insisting Dukat sample it. He refused.

 

The commotion caused Gaven to ebb  nearer to the bar where Quark was watching the exchange from a safe distance.

 

“Why is Dukat here and who is that person with him?” Gaven asked.

 

“He’s trying to get that Cardassian Ghenor extradited back to Cardassia but it looks like the Captain isn’t having any of that. As for that blue hued fellow next to him, that’s Weyoun. A Vorta agent of the Dominion. The Dominion is full of em from what I’ve heard. I wouldn’t go over there if I were you. As I recall Dukat didn’t exactly like you very much and I’d wager a whole bar of latinum that the Kanar there is poisoned and that’s why the Captain is throwing such a fit. The Cardassian government just loves to assassinate dissidents.” Quark explained, stepping back deeper behind his bar.

 

Gaven freely watched the exchange, not caring if Dukat knew he was there or not. He was too busy staring at Weyoun. Transfixed really. There was something in the Vorta’s eyes. Something that compelled Gaven to stare at him.

 

Luckily Weyoun was too entranced by the verbal intrigue going on at the table to notice. Nothing fascinated and amused Weyoun more than the intricacies of interplay between opposing forces. When the Kanar was actually poured out into a glass, to everyone’s shock, Weyoun quickly snapped it up as if it was water and began to drink it down and causing even Dukat’s to reel back in bewildered horror.

 

Weyoun made a sour face and set the glass back where it had come from. “Oh my. That is quite toxic, isn’t it?”

 

“Are you insane?” Dukat asked slowly, still caught up in disbelief.

 

Weyoun’s expression finally softened, and a warm pride came into his face as if he was preparing to explain something to a small, bewildered child. “No-Vorta are immune to most forms of poison. Comes in handy when you're a diplomat.”

 

Weyoun chuckled merrily looking towards the Captain.

 

Benjamin however did not remotely look amused. “Especially when you're working with the Cardassians.”

 

The jig was up.

 

Through all this Gaven finally tore his gaze from Weyoun’s face, his eyes now moving to study the totality of his open expression, the large, pinned back nature of his ears. The shape of the eye that was slightly too large and expressive to be mistaken for most other species on the station.

 

“You know, they say the Vorta have no sense of aesthetics. The Dominion probably mucked around with their genetics or something. They tend to see changelings as Gods if you’d believe that. Personally, I wouldn’t trust one as far as I could spit.” Quark muttered superstitiously. 

 

“Do all Vorta work for the Dominion?” Gaven asked gravely.

 

“Far as I can tell. I don’t really think they get a choice.” Quark speculated. “They live to serve the Dominion, and the Dominion doesn’t seem too broken up about sacrificing the Vorta when it serves their purposes. At least, so I’ve heard.” 

 

Notes:

[1] “Lacking Aesthetics” is a re-work of the Episode “Ties of Blood and Water” (DS9:S5:E19) Some dialogue was taken directly from the episode.

Chapter 50: Estranged Engagement

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifty: Estranged Engagement

 

Once Dukat and Weyoun were off the station everyone once again breathed a sigh of relief and went back about their lives. 

 

Most everyone was happy except for perhaps Quark who, since the trouble with the Ferengi Liquidator Brunt had happened sometime back, was still trying to keep the bar afloat without the benefits of a Ferengi Business license which effectively barred him from working with any of his Ferengi suppliers, partners, and even his brother even though Rom still occasionally helped in the back now and again on the sly when he wasn’t carrying out his engineering duties under Chief O’brien. 

 

While it was temporarily reassuring to have someone like Gaven helping him, Leeta had still been his best Dabo Girl and now that he’d had to greatly slash his menu offerings the gambling aspect of the bar along with the Holosuite arcade were straining to make up for the reduced profits. 

 

The last straw for Quark had come in the form of a vole infestation which had forced him to shut down nearly his entire operation until the voles could be exterminated since they had a tendency to nest in wiring hubs that allowed both the table games and the Holo-chambers to operate.

 

This final setback was enough to send Quark tail spinning into a deep Ferengi depression, made worse by Rom and Leeta having to flaunt their impending nuptials in his face. [1]Dejected and feeling less and less like the Ferengi he was every minute, at Rom’s rare, good suggestion, Quark decided to walk away from his problems and go back to Ferenginar to see his mother and throw himself at her doorstep for an undetermined amount of time.

 

 In the meantime, since Gaven was the only one presently in Quark’s employ that he really liked and trusted, Gaven was put in temporary charge of the upkeep of the bar as a kind of sudo-assistant manager. 

 

Considering it was shut down, Quark assured him that all Gaven had to do was dust the glasses once a day and make sure no one got handsy with his liquor in his absence. 

 

“Let me get this straight, Quark put you in charge?” Odo asked conversationally a few days after Quark had departed.

 

“In charge is a bit of an over statement.” Gaven corrected him. “Think of it more like babysitting.”

 

“I see.” Odo said. “I hope he’s still paying you for this babysitting you're doing.”

 

“Don’t worry. I made sure he fronted me three months of my wages in advance on the off chance I actually have to reopen the place without him.” Gaven explained as he stood behind the bar while Odo sat.

 

“How are you feeling now that you’ve let Doctor Bashir correct your leg injury?” Odo went on.

 

“It’s much better now. Thank you.” Gaven replied. 

 

Before Odo could continue the conversation the high-pitched sound of someone sniffling could be heard quickly descending upon them. Apparently, it was a distraught and weeping Leeta and once she was close enough, she practically threw herself across the bar.

‘ 

“Hello, Dr. Ore.” She said between sniffles. “Look I know Quark is gone and the bar isn’t really open right now but I could really use a strong drink. Do you think you could help me please?”

 

“Sure. Although bar tending isn’t really my specialty.” Gaven warned her.

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Leeta squeaked. “Nothing matters anymore. The engagement’s off. Rom just broke up with me!”

 

The last part was said in a wail as Leeta collapsed onto the bar top sobbing into its shiny surface.

 

Gaven and Odo exchanged startled looks.

 

“I, huh, I better get back to my patrol. Good luck doctor. Leeta, my condolences.” Not one to do well with the emotionality of most women Odo quickly fled. Whether he was really gone or had just shifted shape so that he could listen safely in on Leeta and Gaven’s conversation was anyone’s guess.

 

“Alright. Calm down. Talk to me. What happened?” Gaven said reassuringly as he fetched down the nearest liquor bottle and poured a straight shot for her.

 

“That’s the thing,” Leeta began righting herself and then slapping her hand on the bar top. “I don’t know.”

 

Seizing up the chaser she shot it and indicated for Gaven to pour her another as she briefly coughed and went on.

 

[2]“One minute we were talking about flower arrangements and where we might like to honeymoon and the next minute, he’s waving a Ferengi prenup in my face and demanding I sign it or he won't marry me. He actually had the gall to accuse me of wanting to marry him for his money but that’s simply just not true because Rom doesn’t even have any. I mean...Not by Ferengi standards. I made more money in tips in a day then he did on standard weekly wages when I worked for the bar. I’m just so angry I could scream. I mean what kind of woman does he take me for?” Leeta demanded.

 

“Sounds like a cultural disconnect.” Gaven said compassionately.

 

“A disconnect? More like a train wreckage. Gaven he expects me to just give up everything I am. He’s never brought anything up like this before. Rom isn’t like Quark or the other typical Ferengi. That’s what I love most about him. He’s sensitive and generous...Progressive. Or...He always seemed that way at least. You know if it were just about money that would be one thing. But he’s talking about traditions I like nothing about. In Ferengi culture women aren't allowed to do anything. They're not allowed to work or own property; they're not even supposed to wear clothes. How can Rom expect me to just agree to all of that? I thought he loved me. I thought he loved our life.” Leeta lamented.

 

“Did he really say he didn’t want to marry you?” Gaven asked, pouring her another shot.

 

“Yes. Well, I guess we kind of said it at the same time. Maybe we’re just too different after all.” Leeta mumbled.

 

“I think the differences between people are what make their unions stronger.” Gaven remarked.

 

“Have you ever been married, Gaven?” Leeta asked, taking the clean bar towel he offered her and dabbing at her damp face.

 

Gaven smiled and nodded slowly.

 

“Really? For how long? What happened?" She pressed not stopping to consider that her questions might be insensitive depending on the circumstances involved.

 

“We were bonded for over thirty years until he died. It...His death was sudden and an accident.” Gaven said quietly. 

 

“Oh.” Leeta’s eyes went wide as saucers both at the realization that Gaven was likely much older than she possibly imagined and that he’d been in such a serious long-term commitment. “Geeze, how insensitive of me. It’s really none of my business. I’m...I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

“It’s alright. I’ve moved on. He would have wanted it that way.” Gaven reassured her. 

 

“Was it a good relationship? I mean you obviously found a way to make it last.” Leeta said.

 

“We did. I like to think it was a good partnership. We weren’t equals, however. Not in many ways. Lopel Ner wasn’t just my bonded mate he was also my master and there was a great deal of built-in expectation that came with our arrangement. My choice to accept him as a romantic partner was the one thing that I was given full choice in. Our love for each other was perhaps the most equal thing in our relationship.” Gaven explained.

 

“Why did you do that to yourself?” Leeta asked, nearly completely ignorant about where Gaven had come from.

 

“The equality of our love, the undeniable fact that I loved him, and he loved me back in return was enough for me. Everything else was surmountable if not negotiable.” Gaven finished.

 

“Yeah? So what are you trying to say? If I really loved him like he loves me, caving shouldn’t matter?” Leeta challenged him, her dander beginning to rise once more.

 

“No. I’m saying that finding someone who loves you back as much as you love them is a rare and valuable thing. Love always finds a way. If he’s the one you want and you're the one he wants, you'll find ways to balance your inequalities together so that the value of your love becomes the most important thing. The only thing that really matters. You’re upset right now but that anger and confusion will pass soon enough for both of you and then what is meant to be, will be.” Gaven reassured her.

 

Leeta sat at the bar in solemn silence for a long time. When she finally spoke again, she slid the empty chaser glass into his idle hand. “You know something? For someone with no apparent bartending experience. You sure have this bartender stuff down pat. You’re a good listener and you’ve got good insight. Thanks. Thanks for talking to me. You know if the engagement were still on? I sure would have liked to have seen you at the party.”

 

“There’s still time to think things over. Quark’s not here and if you both decided to have an engagement party after all, the bar is still available for rental.”

 

“I’ll...I’ll keep that in mind.” Leeta promised.

 

~@~

 

Eventually, Leeta got a hold of herself and after thanking Gaven again left Quark’s for parts unknown. 

 

A few minutes later something changed near one of the floor tables and Odo appeared once more.

 

“Leeta is right, you know. You make for a pretty good bar chair psychologist even if that stuff you were doling out to her while you talked was just cranberry juice.” Odo pointed out.

 

At this Gaven gazed at the glass bottle and brought the neck to his nose sniffing once. On scent alone he could tell whatever was in the bottle hadn’t any alcohol in it. “Eavesdropping?”

 

“Just keeping an eye out.” Odo replied. “You know Gaven maybe this isn’t my place to say, but you might consider adopting a little bit of your own advice this time.”

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t really follow.” Gaven said as he leaned back against the back of the bar.

 

“Awhile back when you were holed up in the brig Julian asked you to go with him to Leeta and Rom’s engagement party. While I realize you two might not have been official yet, it always confused me why you turned him down outside of the bad timing of the request. I also find it strange that after all this time you’ve chosen to give up your work in the infirmary where you could be near Doctor Bashir more to work for Quark, of all people, instead. I know that you’ve maintained for a long time that you don’t intend to stay on the station, and yet you’ve chosen to get romantically involved with someone who by the nature of his position isn’t at liberty to leave here. Having seen you together it’s clear that you’re in love with each other and yet neither of you seem willing to compromise in order to ensure you can stay together.” Odo observed.

 

“Mm. I see you've been paying attention. We Oum love quietly Mr. Odo. I’m not accustomed to putting my relationships on display. Julian however enjoys the attention of open and public romance it seems as do many casual observers on this station.” Gaven speculated, remembering what Garak had once told him about peoples unsolicited advice on romance.

 

“I have been watching. Yes. I don't mean to pry but I admit that I find it interesting that you’ve managed to come to such a conclusion based on a single request to attend an event that, traditionally speaking, is meant to publicly celebrate romantic love.” Odo pointed out. "And anyway, you're avoiding the main point."

 

Gaven eyed Odo. "I don't really have a problem with Deep Space Nine. It's a pleasant enough place, I have friends here, and yes. I have Julian and this is his home. I have tried to consider building my life here. Maybe that's why I'm working in Quark's. Sort of trying on a different way of life."

 

Gaven posed it as a suggestion without really admitting his reasons.

 

Odo caught this subtle evasion and noted it.

 

"I see. If I may ask, what's really been holding you back?" Odo asked finding this new information enlightening.

 

"The fact that this station is poised ever in the brink of disaster. Since I've arrived how many evacuations have there been? How many times have I toiled in the infirmary trying to save someone's life from some terrible violence? I didn't understand when the station allowed that arms dealer to run amok here and I don't understand how after everything that's happened, they could allow Gul Dukat and his lackeys to freely walk about this station as well." Gaven muttered with clear frustration.

 

"I think I understand. You're fearful of this war that you feel like you have no personal stake in. You're afraid to put real roots down here because there's such a high possibility of ongoing conflict. You don't feel secure here and hunger for more consistent stability and predictability." Odo explained.

 

"I love Julian, Mr. Odo. No matter where I am in the universe, I would continue to love him and tolerate being worlds away from him if necessary. I would, perhaps, even grow to love him more deeply while we were apart." Gaven continued.

 

"But you don't believe Julian is capable of harboring his love in the same way. You think if you were to leave Deep Space Nine even to go to Bajor or one of the other nearby planets that his feelings would inevitably wane for you." Odo said piecing it all together.

 

Gaven coughed once low in the back of his throat and nodded slowly. "If you think I'm wrong I would appreciate it if you told me."

 

Odo considered his conclusions a long moment. "I don't think you're wrong. Julian Bashir is the kind of man capable of running hot and then cold when he finds himself in a position that he can't do anything about. He's spent a large chunk of his lifetime hiding who he is and looking over his shoulder. He's used to having to walk away and let go. And why shouldn't he when he's never had the luxury of knowing real permanence? He's been conditioned to run away from himself as well as stability most of his life to be sure, but that's not his fault."

 

"I never said it was." Gaven replied lightly before pushing off the back bar. "On an unrelated subject, I've been meaning to ask you something. When Dukat was on the station last he had someone else with him. A...Vorta called Weyoun. I've heard rumors that the Vorta have been genetically engineered to serve the Changelings of the Dominion and that they revere them as Gods similarly to how the Bajoran’s revere the interdimensional beings of the wormhole to be their godly Prophets. Is that true?"

 

“Yes. The Vorta, as they call themselves, have a fanatical attachment to the changeling species. It’s unnerving to say the least, but it seems to be by design. Why do you ask?” Odo inquired.

 

“It seems so...Unnatural. I’d expect a lesser species, one less technologically and culturally advanced to worship what they deem to be beyond comprehension. But the Vorta, they don’t fit this mold and yet they are rumored to be undyingly devoted.” Gaven said. 

 

“You know, one could say the same about the Oum. At least so far as bondservants like yourself are concerned or, so you have inferred, when speaking about it. Is it really so impossible to understand?” Odo remarked.

 

For the first time Gaven squared his shoulders and looked upon Odo with some focused fire. “What you're talking about isn't the same thing. My people do not regard each other as Gods nor do we regard the changelings as anything else other than a highly unique, complex, and intelligent species. This is something different. This is a perversion of a race for the direct benefit of another.”

 

“We don’t know much about the Vorta. We don’t know where they originated or why they serve the Dominion seemingly to the exclusion of anyone else outside of the Dominion’s control. This most recent encounter has garnered more information than ever before assuming it’s true. We’ve seen Weyoun before. The Captain witnessed his death and yet somehow, he has reappeared as conniving and as zealous as ever. When this was put to him, he candidly claimed to be a clone. The fifth of his specific genetics. If that’s true, there’s no telling who or what the Vorta are or were.” Odo said.

 

Gaven narrowed his eyes.

 

“I saw him drink poisoned Kanar that was so toxic it could have killed a room full of people had each taken a single sip. He drank it like some people drink seltzer water.” Gaven muttered.

 

“I know. I saw it from the upper deck. Weyoun claims the Vorta are immune to poison though we have no way of knowing how truthful that statement is. The Vorta may have no detectable sense of aesthetics but I’m sure they're more than capable of flagrant deceit.” Odo replied.

 

"The Dominion has engineered other species, I understand." Gaven remarked.

 

"Yes. The Jem'hadar." Odo nodded.

 

Gaven's mouth flattened.

 

Odo observed Gaven's unhappy expression and wondered at it. "Genetic engineering is not uncommon outside of the Federation of planets. Within the Federation, genetic manipulation is considered a condemned practice as I'm sure you know. The Dominion's skill with it and use of the science is a chief example of why so many cultures limit genetic engineering."

 

"Any knowledge can be abused." Gaven muttered as his features slowly relaxed and he went about polishing the bar. 

 

"Indeed." Odo said. "By the way I nearly forgot what I came over here for. I wanted your opinion on something. But I was wondering if we could speak about it in private."

 

"Of course, constable. How about I meet you at home in say an hour?" Gaven offered.

 

"Yes. That would be fine. Thank you." Odo said.

 

~@~

 

An hour later, Gaven arrived promptly at Odo’s and was eagerly ushered in.

 

As was his habit, upon entering Odo’s abode Gaven glanced around looking for Kajel. Usually, the changeling was eager to great him but today they were nowhere in sight. 

 

“Kajel is resting in their room. I made sure to tire them out before you arrived.” Odo admitted.

 

“Oh?” Gaven replied. “Any particular reason?”

 

“Well, it happens that what I wanted to talk with you about concerns Kajel and I thought it best they not be present while I discussed it just yet.” Odo carefully said.

 

“Mm. Sounds serious. May I?” Gaven indicated to a nearby couch and sat down.

 

“A few days ago, Keiko O’Brien sent me a message asking if we could discuss arranging some kind of...Play date between Kajel and Molly. The request was worded very politely but I think it not unreasonable to acknowledge the considerable tension around the question. Apparently, Molly has been begging the O’Brien’s endlessly to allow her to socialize with Kajel.” Odo explain.

 

“I see. That’s a good thing, right? I know Keiko wasn’t exactly comfortable with Kajel in the beginning.” Gaven remarked, remembering Keiko’s reaction in the infirmary.

 

“Well, that’s the thing of it. I don’t know. On the surface the request is...Reasonable, but I’d be lying if I said I felt comfortable with the idea.” Odo groaned and came over to sit beside Gaven. “I know socialization for Kajel is important, but…”

 

“You’re afraid of changing what you’ve grown comfortable with.” Gaven finished for him. “I suppose I can understand. For all intents and purposes, you’ve been Kajel’s caregiver, guardian, parent, and primary influence. If you allow this interaction to occur with Molly O’Brien it will add a new influence that lives outside of the haven you’ve been building for Kajel here.”

 

“Yes.” Odo muttered.

 

“Can I ask you, something? How much does anyone know about how changelings learn?” Gaven inquired.

 

“What do you mean?” Odo replied. “People generally know we’re shape-shifters.” 

 

“Yes, but do they understand that it’s more than just mimicry?” Gaven flatly said. “It seems to me that most assume changelings only mimic other forms. They don’t seem to grasp that changelings don’t just mimic, they can also become what they assume by mapping the subject and duplicating them down to a cellular level...”

 

 Odo watched Gaven, a slow feeling of vulnerability over taking him. “So, you know. You understand.”

 

Gaven nodded his head slowly. “I also know this ability has been greatly stunted in you for some reason. You...Struggle with mapping more complex forms. It’s why your features are less defined when you try to take a humanoid form. It’s why, when you were at a less aware stage of your development you struggled with milestones like the ones Kajel has already so effortlessly achieved. It’s also why one of the Founder’s was able to shut down your morphing ability.”

 

“You know much more than I’ve anticipated. Your people really do have intimate knowledge of the changelings.” Odo mused in mild wonder.

 

“Maybe we once did.” Gaven conceded in a hushed tone. “I will not admit to knowing the nature of the Dominion. They may be changelings, but they are not the changelings my people loved and modeled themselves after.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Odo asked. “What does the changelings have to do with the development of your people?”

 

Gaven didn’t answer right away and looked off to a random point ahead of him unseeing. “My people wanted so badly to be like your people. The Oum hungered to become unique and because we could not become what you are, my people settled for what they perceived to be the next best thing.”

 

“They embraced genetic mutation.” Odo said, finally connecting things.

 

“Though we couldn’t control our forms at will, we aspired to at least embrace the spontaneous ones that poly radiated mutation afforded us. My people have founded their culture around the idea.” Gaven mused, slowly becoming present again. “We’ve built all of our sense of aesthetics around it.”

 

Odo pressed his lips. 

 

Gaven talked about an aspect of his culture he was excluded from and had once been enslaved by. He talked of his kind with such exultation sometimes and, for the first time, Odo felt a sense of empathy for the man. In many ways they were both lesser examples of their people and were thought to be unideal when compared to others of their kind. Odo never spoke of it in his own case because in his heart he knew that his abilities were only stunted and that, in time, he would master his duplicating abilities in full. 

 

This brought him back to his dilemma over Kajel.

 

“If Kajel started coming into contact with humanoids they’re going to be able to eventually master that form and the sooner that happens the sooner Kajel’s presence will become more threatening to many on this station and beyond it.” Odo said, voicing the core of his primary fear.

 

“The sooner Kajel starts understanding the others around them the sooner others will begin to understand Kajel.” Gaven pointed out. “It may be the best protection you can ultimately offer them. The Starfleet and by extension the Federation allows you to live and function without a great deal of oversight and that’s because you’ve shown everyone the kind of person you are. The Bajoran people trust you as do many of the Cardassians, not to mention everyone on this station. No one on Deep Space Nine is afraid of you for being a changeling. They may watch themselves around you for other reasons, but they are not afraid of what you are. Doesn’t Kajel deserve the opportunity to cultivate the same level of comfort and trust that you’ve come to know?” Gaven inquired.

 

“Yes. I suppose they do. I think I know what I need to do now. Thank you, doctor.” Odo sincerely said.

 

~@~

 

[3]As the days pressed on and Quark remained absent on the station, Rom and Leeta continued to work through the difficult roadblock in their nuptials. They did this mostly by dragging their friends into the fold, some of whom felt mildly responsible for provoking the predicament to begin with. While Leeta did her best to deny her feelings and avoid Rom entirely. Rom suffered and bargained his way through the experience, neither one making much headway. 

 

Since having abruptly quit Quark’s Leeta had taken a lesser job managing an out of the way Jumja confectionery kiosk along the promenade. It paid considerably less than Leeta might have preferred but her pride and Quark’s absence had left her few alternative options on such short notice.

 

After a particularly enlightening conversation, Miles eventually managed to convince Rom to try to reconcile with his lady love for everyone’s sake and told him where to find her.

 

“One jumja stick, please.” Rom said with unusual boldness one slow afternoon while standing where Leeta’s kiosk was situated.

 

Never one for subtlety Leeta craned her head around so fast upon hearing his voice that if it hadn’t been attached to her neck it might have flown off. Her mouth hung open in shocked disbelief as the familiar butterflies of love fluttered aggressively in her abdomen. Just as quickly firm composure took hold of her features.

 

“What flavor?” She asked just as boldly.

 

“Actually, I don’t like jumba sticks.” He said walking towards her and halting directly in front of the stall.

 

“Then what do you want, Rom?” Leeta inquired, her doe like eyes wide and her tone imploringly pressing.

 

“I want you to marry me.” He said plainly. 

 

Leeta’s already large eyes widened in excited satisfaction although she wasn’t ready to give in just yet. “I’m not signing that waiver.”

 

“You don’t have to. Not anymore.” Rom said quickly and directly. “I don’t have any profit left to protect.”

 

“I don’t understand.” Leeta said as she side stepped out of the kiosk as they mutually stepped closer to each other. Her brown knitting in confusion.

 

“I gave all my latinum to Major Kira for the Bajoran War Orphan’s fund.” He explained, chuckling at the memory of Kira’s response to his generosity. “She kissed me.”

 

“Oh, Rom.” Leeta cooed in loving amazement. “You did that for me?”

 

“I did it for us.” Rom said in a quieter, more intimate tone. They had now come nearly face to face. “Now we have nothing but our love.”

 

“That’s all we need.” Leeta cooed softly as she leaned in to kiss him sweetly, stopping just shy of actually doing so. “That and my salary from Quark’s he still owes me.”

 

Finally, they kissed.

 

As they did so, just above them Miles and Julian looked down from above them with their own satisfaction at the outcome of the reunion. 

 

“Well done, Chief.” Julian softly congratulated Miles for his handy work. “Or should I call you Cupid?

 

Miles snorted in satisfaction. “What can I say? I’m just an incurable romantic.”

 

Julian only chuckled as they looked on.

 

Notes:

[1] This references the events of “Ferengi Love song” (DS9:S5:E20). While quark is visiting his homeworld, Gaven agrees to babysit the bar.

[2] Leeta is referencing the conflict ignited between her Rom in the episode “A Call To Arms” (DS9:S5:E26).

[3] This is a re-work of a scene in the episode “Call to Arms” (DS9:S5:E26) between Leeta and Rom.

Chapter 51: In The Wind

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifty-One: In the Wind

 

Eventually, Quark returned to the station in much higher spirits than when he’d left. Although he was tight-lipped about what he’d been up to while back home to everyone other than his direct family, it seemed something interesting had occurred since Quark’s Ferengi business license was mysteriously restored.

 

There was still the matter of Leeta’s pay to settle which now that Leeta and Rom were back together again she was adamant about getting. However, since Quark was in such a good mood, he handed over Leeta’s pay without hassle. Despite their differences, even Quark knew when to pay his dues and although Leeta wasn’t working for the bar anymore, Quark wasn’t petty enough to dismiss her years of exemplary service. While it had occurred to Quark to offer to take her back, he relinquished the idea when he saw that Gaven had managed to make him money despite the bar not being open.

 

It seemed by many accounts people liked talking to Gaven and commonly coaxed him into bending his ear to their laments and joys. Of the ones who hadn’t been his friends, many bought non-alcoholic drinks and finger food from him just so they’d have an excuse to loiter at the bar. It appeared that Gaven had taken it upon himself to open Quark’s just for a few hours in the middle of the day to accommodate this traffic and since he wasn’t a Ferengi there was technically no sin in buying from him since the bar was temporarily under his control.

 

It was the icing on the cake as far as Quark was concerned.

 

Things carried on as usual on the station and now that Gaven wasn’t working in the infirmary and was observing a more civilian-like lifestyle he was drawn into less of the officer’s adventures and relied heavily on his personal time with Julian and their mutual social time with their friends to fill in the details of the deeper goings on which the officers felt at liberty to freely discuss in front of Gaven.

 

[1]Missions came and went.

 

At one point Dax and Worf had gone on a joint mission under the command of Martok on behalf of the Klingon empire. At another point, the Defiant, during a mission to investigate a certain planet with a mysterious energy barrier around it, had hit a temporal distortion that flung them two hundred years back in time. Gaven had not been present for that incident although Julian had gone on about it for weeks both marveling and using his discussions as a way to cope with what he’d seen and what had ultimately happened in the end.

 

During that time Gaven had indulged and comforted the doctor as best he could, and their developing relationship began to settle into a familiar and supportive expression that generally involved Julian manically unloading his days to Gaven while Gaven shared various gossip he’d heard and observations he’d made while working in Quark’s.

 

As time went on Julian began seeing Gaven more and more at his quarters rather than them alternating. He was there so consecutively that Gaven had relinquished one of his bedroom drawers and a sliver of his closet space to a few of Julian’s uniforms and outfits for their mutual convenience.

 

For his part, Gaven was not entirely consumed by Julian and he managed to settle into a kind of routine of his own separate from his lover.

 

When he wasn’t working shifts in Quark’s and entertaining Julian, he still occasionally helped the officers with their projects and there was ongoing and habitual combat training with Worf and Cheval that he kept up with.

 

Worf found Gaven to be a quick study and a patient teacher and sparring partner in his own right. For Cheval’s part, his defensive and offensive skills did gradually improve. He was a diligent, if shy, student and their biggest challenge was keeping the Vulcan’s confidence steady. Gaven also regularly visited Garak and was one of the few people besides Ziyal and Quark that the Cardassian was eager and willing to entertain at home. Garak always seemed to invite Gaven to come around when Julian was unavailable to come along with him. If Gaven noticed this, he never remarked on it to either of them.

 

[2]At one point when Garak agreed to go on a mission to Empok Nor only to be influenced by a Cardassian experimental drug exposure that caused him to lose control and kill some of the other’s on their mission, Gaven had been the only other casual visitor besides Miles to come to visit him since Ziyal had been away at the time.

 

When matters were through being investigated and Garak was cleared, at least officially, of culpability; Gaven helped him settle at home as he finished his convalescing. Julian had told Gaven the details of the situation which he’d gotten second hand from Miles.

 

“Can I get you anything before I go?” Gaven had said, once he’d finished setting up Garak upon his favorite settee, the very one Garak had once made up for him.

 

“No, my friend. No. You’ve done quite enough. Thank you kindly.” Garak rattled off quickly with genuine regard.

 

Gaven stepped away from him but instead of saying his goodbyes, he settled down in an armchair near Garak. They didn’t say anything to each other for a while.

 

“I suppose you attended the Amaro funeral alongside Dr. Bashir?” Garak inquired lightly.

 

“Yes.” There was a pregnant pause between them. “I understand that Amaro’s wife left the station sometime this morning enroute back to earth with her husband’s remains. I believe she plans to remain there, indefinitely.”

 

“Ah. I see.” Garak shifted uncomfortably. For once he couldn’t mask his crestfallen mood.

 

“You weren’t responsible for your actions on Empok Nor, Elim.” It was the first time Gaven had ever said Garak’s first name out loud and the firm and even tone for which he spoke it sent an almost unheard-of shiver through the Cardassian.

 

As much as Garak secretly tormented himself over what had happened, his awareness of Gaven’s tendency never to lie somehow worked its way past his guilt and made him feel somewhat better.

 

“I think Amaro’s wife would beg to differ. Responsible or not, I did what I did. And do you want to know what the worst part of it is?” Garak mused less flippantly.

 

“Tell me.” Gaven replied.

 

“I, of course, am riddled with remorse. I’m sick with it, frankly.” Garak admitted. “But, you know, the thing I remember about the whole ordeal the most clearly is that when I killed that beefed up Cardassian soldier stalking me in the Infirmary, it felt good. I remember it felt good even though I regret the business entirely on the whole.”

 

Gaven didn’t remark about the rumors that Garak had a long-unspoken history of murder and torture. But then much of that had been supposedly done in the name of the Obsidian Order and would not have been considered uncouth by Cardassian standards in general if gossip were to be believed. He understood that this incident had been driven by a different internal trigger. One that Garak couldn’t excuse away as a simple matter of self-defense. He was saying that he admitted to enjoying killing the soldier for the sake of it and that there had been a deeper visceral satisfaction in it than there ought to have been.

 

Gaven did not fault him for these impulses.

 

“Did it feel the same way when you killed Amaro?” Gaven asked.

 

“No.” Garak said quietly. “I killed Amaro on impulse and impulse alone.”

 

“And when you thwarted the Gaborian assassin and attempted to shoot Wittle? How did you feel then?” Gaven pressed.

 

“That one...I am entirely proud of,” Garak explained. “I’m sorry you got hurt in the crossfire. I never anticipated you would defend him.”

 

“There is no shame in feeling good about protecting your friends,” Gaven concluded, ignoring the observation about he and Wittle since everyone else had not been surprised by his actions.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call Chief O’brien or his beloved Cadet friends of mine, but I see the point you’re attempting to make.” Garak conceded.

 

Satisfied that they understood each other Gaven slowly stood. “If you want or need anything, call me. I’ll do what I can.”

 

Gaven took Garak by the shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly before he stood and began to leave.

 

Just before he triggered the door, Garak Called to him. “Gaven,”

 

Gaven half-turned and met the Cardassian’s almost shy gaze. “Thank you. Thank you for understanding. I treasure you as a friend.”

 

“I know,” Gaven replied nodding his head slightly.

 

He then returned to his forward-facing stance and left.

 

~@~

 

[3]As the days went on, concerning information began to trickle back to the station regarding the various disappearances of Federation ships along the Cardassian-Dominion border. Despite any positive efforts being made across the quadrant, none of it seemed to do anything to quell the Dominion’s slow advance into Federation space and it was only a matter of time before these setbacks began to sink the stations morale, leaving civilian’s and the officers alike in a state of growing malaise.

 

In a half-hearted effort to raise morale, Benjamin had arranged a dinner party for the officers, but it wasn’t going off well at all. If Dax hadn’t been on duty or if Gaven had been available to attend they all might have stood a fighting chance to lighten the oppressive and depressive mood that had settled over everyone in attendance but as things presently stood nothing seemed to improve upon the social gathering.

 

“Did you hear about the Tian Am Men? She was reported missing last night near the Cardassian border.” Miles said fingering his scotch glass.

 

“That’s three in the last three weeks,” Kira remarked from her seated position across the table from him.

 

At this rate, we’re going to run out of ships.” Julian quipped without any humor as he stared at the side of his own mostly empty scotch glass.

 

“Well, that’s not funny.” Kira half-heartedly protested.

 

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Julian testily retorted. “Unless Starfleet Command actually starts doing something about the Dominion threat, the situation is only going to get worse.”

 

Annoyed by his tone, Kira forcefully set down her glass to glare at him. “What do you want, Julian, a war?”

 

“What I want is to talk about something else,” Benjamin interjected. “Chief, what about Kirayoshi? Is he walking yet?”

 

Real pleasure briefly kindled in Benjamin’s face. He dearly loved hearing updates about his crew member’s personal lives. It usually injected a sense of normalcy in even the most stressful of situations.

 

“No. Not yet. No.” Miles replied softly and without any real interest in the subject for once as he sipped at the edge of his glass.

 

Benjamin wasn’t ready to give up yet and softly shifted his small talk to Odo. “Odo, I understand you're going to Bajor next week. Do you plan to see Doctor Mora?”

 

Although more alert than the rest, probably because he was the only one that hadn’t indulged in alcohol besides Jake and Nog, Odo grunted apologetically. “Actually, I’ve canceled my trip. There’s been a seventy-five percent jump in the theft of medical supplies and food Rations on DS9. I haven’t seen such an increase since--”

 

He paused abruptly and only reluctantly finished his thought because Miles briefly perked up to press him.

 

“Since just before the Cardassians were forced to abandon the station.” He finished.

 

Benjamin shook his head and rolled his eyes at his failure to circumvent their depressing subject matter.

 

Julian abruptly downed the rest of his drink and eased the glass onto the table. He knew that if he didn’t beg off right now, he’d regret it. “On that note, I think I’ll turn in.”

 

“Oh, huh, me too.” Miles piped in, practically climbing out of his chair in order to follow behind Julian with the hopes Julian might assist him in getting back safely to his wife. “Thank you for dinner, Captain. It was wonderful.”

 

“It was my pleasure,” Benjamin said mustering up a warm smile for the chief as he watched Kira dart behind him to flee out of the room with only the briefest of nods to anyone.

 

Unsurprisingly, Odo also excused himself abruptly leaving only Jake and Nog and a completely oblivious Worf behind.

 

Seeing that Worf was lost in thought, Benjamin quickly released him from any more obligation to remain at a dinner party he hadn’t even wanted to attend in the first place. “You’ve been paroled. The party’s over.”

 

Beyond depressed, Benjamin encouraged Jake and Nog to leave as well remarking compassionately that he wished to be alone for a while. The young men respectfully obliged him, said their goodnights, and departed.

 

Before they even disappeared out of Benjamin’s sight, a message was piped in from Ops.

 

“Ops to Captain Sisko. We just received a message from Bajor, Sir. Kai Winn will be coming to the station tomorrow morning and she’d like to meet with you.”

 

“Acknowledged.” Benjamin sighed in abject defeat.

 

This news was the last thing he wanted to hear.

 

~@~

 

“You’re depressed,” Gaven muttered, as he held Julian in his arms and noticed he wasn’t responding to the subtle intimacies and enticements he usually enjoyed when they held each other like this.

 

It was the next morning and they’d both happened to get the same day off.

 

“I am absolutely depressed. Here we are on the brink of War with the Dominion and there doesn’t seem to be anything anyone can do about it. At least if they were to exert an act of aggression the Federation could respond instead of all this nonsensical waiting around everyone’s doing.” Julian complained.

 

“Don’t say things like that, Julian,” Gaven warned him evenly.

 

The way he was talking reminded Gaven of the Changeling version of Julian and how he had coldly welcomed the idea of war. Gaven shuddered. He knew better than most that while the changeling had failed to fully capture Julian in full, the changeling may have stumbled upon a darker corner of Julian Bashir’s personality that under other conditions and life circumstances could have reflected the truth of his nature at its heart.

 

Julian felt Gaven hug him a bit more tightly. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to talk about these things, love.”

 

“I’m perfectly willing to talk about them if that’s what you need from me.” Gaven said against the back of Julian’s left ear.

 

“I have what I need from you right here.” Julian turned his head to the side and bent back to search out Gaven’s mouth.

 

The pressure of their kiss made him feel better.

 

“What do you want to do today?” Gaven said after they’d spent several minutes necking and murmuring promises of future seductions to each other.

 

“Honestly, I don’t think I’m going to be particularly good company today, as much as I hate to admit it. I know we don’t get to spend much time together like this but…” Julian began.

 

“It’s alright. We don’t need to spend all our free time together. If there are other things you’d like to do today that are important to you then go ahead and do them. We can pick up together again in the evening.” Gaven pecked Julian under the edge of his jaw.

 

“What are you going to do today?” Julian inquired.

 

“Oh, I was thinking of going over to Leeta’s and trying to convince her to come back and work for Quark. The truth is, Leeta was one of his best servers and Dabo girls. It’s been hurting Quark’s bottom line having her leave him like she did and while he appreciates all my talents, I don’t necessarily appeal to his primary demographic the same way Leeta did.” Gaven suggestively said.

 

“Well, you certainly appeal to me. In just about every way that matters.” Julian slid from the sofa to the floor and encouraged Gaven to follow him.

 

When he did it was deeply satisfying to watch him do it effortlessly and without any pain or impairment.

 

With Gaven half leaning over him Julian pressed a kiss to the side of his throat, mindful not to linger there too long and leave a mark. He could feel Gaven's pulse quicken and synchronize with his own. The attraction between them was low and smoldering, the kind of allure that did not require quick response. Julian knew their love making had the potential to go on for days, mindless days of slow heady passion, that he could not always afford.

 

Julian had been known to be a somewhat demanding lover but Gaven always seemed to anticipate his wants easily adjusting to them without having to be encouraged. Sometimes though, Julian found him to be...Almost too accommodating.

 

Later, when they had properly canoodled, as Fisk would have put it, Julian met up with Miles for a quick between shift game of darts.

 

"Jesus, lord. You’re not drunk, are you?" Miles quipped when he saw Julian's sleepy languid state.

 

"Mm. Nearly. But, huh, not on liquor, Chief." Julian muttered.

 

"Say no more, I don't want to know." Miles replied coloring slightly.

 

While he wasn't a prude, he felt strange being told too much about what Gaven and Julian got up to. Miles had always felt a need to preserve Gaven's privacy even though he didn't know the man that well.

 

"So. What's new with you, Chief?" Julian asked, taking the first throw.

 

"Keiko's set up a play date between Molly and Kajel. She's been after us relentlessly." Miles remarked. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous about the whole thing but then again I don't blame Molly for wanting more friends. Most of the children that were on the station have moved off and Kirayoshi's still too little yet to run about with her."

 

"That's very tolerant of you, Chief. I'm sure it'll be fine. Odo tells me Kajel has a curious and active temperament, I'm sure they're just as eager to make a friend other than Odo."

 

"So, have you convinced Gaven to go to Leeta and Rom's engagement party yet?" Miles asked, changing the subject.

 

"I didn't have too. Leeta apparently cornered him and asked. I don't think Gaven had it in him to turn down a direct request from the bride." Julian explained.

 

"Why was he so against it anyway? Not a party type?" Miles asked.

 

"I don't know. Gaven isn't the most forth coming when it comes to his motives and I haven't asked." Julian explained.

 

"Well, maybe you should. You're together now. This isn't just a passing affair. I think it's hazardous not to know the reasons behind how your partner feels." Miles remarked, speaking from personal experience.

 

"Maybe." Julian conceded.

 

"Maybe. Maybe?" Miles gaffed. "Boy you're in for some trouble soon if that's the attitude you’re going to take."

 

"Why? Things are fine." Julian looked genuinely perplexed.

 

"You know that do you? Let me ask you something. When Leeta broke up with you, did you see it coming? Did she even bother to explain to you why she wanted to break up?"

 

"No. I didn't see it coming. I thought things were...Fine. then one day she said things weren't working for her and she thought we should break up." Julian admitted.

 

"Right. And you didn't fight her on that." Miles pointed out.

 

"There wasn't any discussing it." Julian said uncomfortably.

 

"Yeah, see that's my point. You dated Leeta for nearly a year and you didn't see that she was unhappy. That she, maybe, needed things from you or that there were things going on that didn't add up for her. Regardless of the truth, you took her feelings for granted. We do that sometimes. Couples get into this honeymoon period where it’s all idealism and endorphins and it becomes easy to forget that you're two separate feeling thinking individuals. But trust me, sooner or later reality comes crashing in and when it does the only defense you have is your knowledge of who your partner is at the core." Miles advised.

 

"I know who Gaven is." Julian replied quietly.

 

"No, Julian. You don't. Look, I know you care very deeply about this man. You're in love. I can see it in you. We all can. But love alone isn’t enough. You have to put the work in too. Or one day something is going to change between you and you're not going to understand why or how to get through it. Gaven's going away to Vulcan soon. The Federation is on the brink of war with the Dominion, this isn't the time to sit back on your laurels and just allow things to shake out as they will." Miles said compellingly.

 

"I see you've been holding back. Feel better now?" Julian asked as he approached Miles and patted him on the back.

 

"Alright, alright. I've said my piece. Now it's up to you to do something about it." Miles muttered forcing himself to calm down. "Your throw."

 

"You really are a true blue romantic, Chief." Julian mused.

 

"Damn right I am. Now throw." Miles insisted.

 

~@~

 

True to his word, upon recovering from their play, Gaven and Julian went their separate ways. Julian to meet up with Miles for a quick game and Gaven off to hunt down Leeta on the outskirts of the habitat ring.

 

"Oh. Hi, Doctor Ore." Leeta said brightly. "What brings you to this side of the station? Oh! Are you hungry? I have a few jumja sticks left over. I'll give you one on the house. My treat."

 

Gaven hesitated. "Um. Which flavors are left?"

 

"Uhm, lemon flower, rose cream, or burmberry." Leeta replied.

 

"I better take the lemon one." Gaven chose the only flavor that seemed to have an ingredient he recognized.

 

To Gaven's satisfaction and Leeta's delight he picked well. Gaven had expected the confection to be sour but thanks to the sugar the flavor came out much less sharp and might have resembled strongly sugared lemonade.

 

For herself, Leeta took the burmberry jumja which was something along the lines of a blueberry and blackberry like combination with a hint of cinnamon like heat.

 

"So, what do you think? Good right? The rose cream was a little experiment on my part, but they haven't come off well. Still the other flavors are a hit as usual. I guess I'm done for the day. These were my last ones." Leeta sighed and threw the last jumja into the mini trash compactor under her stall.

 

"I like this very much. Thank you for introducing it to me." Gaven said, smiling wide.

 

"Aw, I'm glad. You look really happy eating it. And now I’m even more happy to have given you one." Leeta remarked.

 

"Although...Maybe it isn't the jumja stick after all?" Leeta smiled cheekily.

 

"I'll never tell." He replied lightly. Though a soft blush came over his features.

 

"Well, whatever it is I'm happy for you. You know I really can't thank you enough. For the advice you gave me before. You were right. True love really does find its way." Leeta said closing her shop and coming around to stand with him as they both ate their jumja sticks.

 

"I’m pleased you and Rom have found your way together. As for thanking me, there is something you could do for me." Gaven bluntly said.

 

At this Leeta paused and eyed Gaven warily. "What?"

 

"You might consider coming back to Quark's. You've said it yourself. I'm just a novice. I have no idea what I’m doing half the time." Gaven explained poking fun at his deplorable bar tending. He was good at service, and talk, but mixing drinks was by no means the reason people were drawn to sit at his bar top.

 

"Oh, Gaven. No. If you’re suggesting I go crawling back to Quark...I’m going to be a married woman soon. It's time I start earning a living with more than just my...Material assets." Leeta insisted.

 

"Oh. Of course, I agree. I wasn't suggesting you come back to Quark's as a Dabo Girl or even a waitress. Although you are sorely missed in those capacities by just about everyone. Quark included." Gaven baited.

 

"Then just what are you suggesting?" Leeta demanded.

 

"That you come back to work for Quark," Gaven began.

 

Leeta's eyes began to grow large as she prepared to become outraged by what he might say next.

 

"As his bar manager and floor supervisor. Leeta, Quark needs you. The bar is faltering badly without your influence. Not to mention that I certainly don't know how to improve things. I agree that you're more than just a pretty face and an attractive package. Quark knows it too and he should have promoted you a long time ago." Gaven patiently said.

 

"Please. You know what Quark would say to that? Rule of Acquisition #94: Females and finance don't mix." Leeta snorted.

 

"Maybe." Gaven conceded. "I know he would deny needing you as badly as he does, but family is family. And Family has been the one reliable thing in Quark's life. His real family. You, Rom, and Nog. Might I remind you of another Rule of Acquisition? Rule number six, if I’m not mistaken."

 

Gaven watched as Leeta's mockingly stern expression softened and she suddenly chuckled.

 

"Rule of Acquisition #6. Never allow family to stand in the way of opportunity." They both recited in unison.

 

Gaven grunted in an amused manner. "Quark respects those with capitalist vision. Although I have no doubt that he will give you a hard time at face value, I think in the end his love of profit will out weigh his dislike of an uppity sister-in-law. If you go to him and lay your demands plain, I suspect he will give into them. You hold all the power in this instance so why not use it?"

 

Leeta who was not a stupid woman my any means mulled this over in her mind. The more she mulled over it, the more determined she became.

 

"You know what Gaven? You're right. AND, I mean...What really do I have to lose? Rom gave up everything to marry me. I have certain obligations to take care of my family. All my family. And it's about time Quark show a little support for Rom and for me. Besides. Who knows? Rom may outlive Quark or Quark might actually make it big some day and not need the bar anymore." Leeta remarked slyly.

 

"Mm." Gaven nodded. "Rule of Acquisition, #139: Wives serve."

 

"Yep. Brothers inherit." She finished.

 

-@-

 

Later that day instead of taking dinner with Gaven in Quark's, Julian found himself compelled to eavesdrop with Gaven from the balcony above the gaming floor where the most unlikely negotiation between Quark and Leeta, of all people, was taking place.

 

For a while, Quark seemed pretty intent upon denying Leeta and putting her down.

 

But when Leeta, in an act of assertive aggression, grabbed Quark by the knot of his necktie and got right up in his face telling him that, like it or not, they were soon-to-be family and that he'd better start getting used to the idea. Quark relented if only, so he told himself later, for the sake of the wellbeing of his beloved business.

 

"Well, looks like you did it. You said you were going to convince Leeta to come back, and you did it. And then some." Julian muttered, still hardly believing what he was seeing.

 

"Mm. I just dropped a simple suggestion. Leeta's the one who brokered and closed the deal. I really have no idea how to bartend." Gaven said shaking his head slowly.

 

"Are you telling me you made this happen out of purely selfish motives?" Julian joked.

 

Gaven shrugged. "Rule of Acquisition, #22: A wise man can hear profit in the wind."

 

"Be serious." Julian muttered.

 

"I am. The bar is better off with Leeta apart of it. Quark is better off treating her like an ally than an enemy, and I am better off for her help and guidance. Everyone wins now." Gaven remarked appraisingly.

 

"You terrify me sometimes." Though he said it in earnest there was humor in Julian's tone.

 

"I like when I can help people get out of their own ways." Gaven admitted.

 

"Oh? Speaking from personal experience?" Julian inquired.

 

Gaven eyed Julian speculatively. "Perhaps."

 

Julian felt himself ebbing down a somewhat darker corridor than he had intended and back peddled a bit.

 

"Come on. Let's get on with our dinner. You can tell me about your day, I can tell you about mine, and then we can go home, and I can make good on some of those suggestions we exchanged earlier." Julian said walking to stand closer to Gaven so he could rest his palm over his hand gripping the narrow metal banister.

 

They were careful still about displaying their partnership out in the open. For a moment Julian imagined backing Gaven up into the railing beam and pressing his mouth to Gaven's intimately for all the world to see. But he refrained.

 

Public displays of affection seemed to disquiet Gaven and while his smoldering focus on Julian wasn’t lost on anyone who happened to see them out and about together these days, it was kept in careful check and once again Julian privately marveled at the man's iron clad sense of control.

 

Will you ever give an inch, Gaven? Julian wondered. Why? Why do always hold back with me?

 

As if Gaven had heard the questions rooting around in Julian's brain, he gently pulled his hand free and nudged closer to Julian pressing himself between Julian and the balcony.

 

Julian took this cue and seeing an unusual opportunity between them he moved behind Gaven and embraced him from behind sidling his chin into the crook of Gaven's shoulder as he held him, and they looked together out over Quark's main floor.

 

Julian could feel Gaven's strong pulse beating in the side of his throat. Its beat was fast, and Julian squeezed him in reassuring intervals.

Notes:

[1] Once Gaven begins working for Quark he stops being as directly involved with the officers missions this includes much of the events of “Soldiers of the Empire” (DS9:S5:E21), Children of Time” (DS9:S5:E22), and “Blaze of Glory” (DS9:S5:E23).  Events from these episodes are loosely referenced throughout the chapter.

[2] This references the events of “Empok Nor.” (DS9:S5:E24)

[3] This references and is a re-work of events in the Episode “In the Cards” (DS9:S5:E25). Specifically the Dinner Party scene.

Chapter 52: As Things Fall

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifty-Two: As Things Fall

 

For another few weeks, everything stayed the same. Tensions were high on the station as more and more cultures near the Cardassian border were swayed toward the Dominion’s favor. Both Weyoun and Kia Winn had come and gone creating a temporary dustup for Jake and Nog but the business was eventually settled without any real harm done.

 

Of other notable events among the station’s officers, Odo had followed up with the O’Brien’s and everyone had agreed to set up a supervised and contained play date in the infirmary where Molly and Kajel had first met. Molly had been prepared by her parents to understand the basics of the color coding that Odo had trained Kajel to use in the same way many parents trained their humanoid children to speak in sign language. Since Miles was to be on duty and Keiko also had to keep an eye on Kirayoshi, Gaven had offered to attend as well for general support of everyone involved since besides Odo he seemed to understand the young Changeling in ways no one else did. 

 

Julian had set aside one of his observation rooms for their use that was specifically designed for children. An agreement was made that the children would be kept apart at first by a force field and if they seemed to do alright with that Keiko would give her consent to allow Molly to interact with Kajel more directly.

 

Being just as nervous as Keiko was, Odo agreed. The only one that seemed entirely comfortable about the social experiment was Gaven. 

 

When everything was in place Molly could enter the playroom as Keiko and Odo mutually watched through the observation window. 

 

What they saw was a follow up to Molly’s original introduction.

 

Hi, Kajel.” Molly waved freely at the blob which upon seeing her come skipping into the room began to turn into what could only be described as excited geometric shapes as Kajel flashed various shades of light blue.

 

“Aw. That means Kajel is happy, right? They remember Molly.” 

 

“Oh yes. Kajel is VERY happy. I haven’t seen them turn that shade of blue in weeks.” Odo muttered stiffly. 

 

The sight made him feel slightly crestfallen at the idea that Kajel had perhaps become depressed in recent months with so little opportunity to interact with anyone besides him.

 

Molly giggled at this and pulled something out of her backpack. It was one of her drawings. “I can’t shapeshift like you, but I like to draw. See? I can draw anything I want just like you can be anything you want.”

 

Kajel moved as close to the force field as possible and morphed into a corded shape like a spring. They then moved back and began shifting into different basic animals. A color changing frog. A dozen blue butterflies fluttering their wings on the carpet, and finally a Tarkalean hawk. At this final display Molly clapped. She remembered how Odo had once changed into a puppy for her and that this was along the same thing.

 

“Kajel you’re amazing. And pretty. And fun.” Molly went on to keep babbling at the changeling. "I wish we could be friends.”

 

Molly stepped close to the force field. Even though she was alone in the room she dropped her voice down into a child’s whisper that was easy enough for the adults to make out. “I’m not afraid of you. I wouldn’t let anyone be mean to you ever.”

 

Upon hearing her daughter say this, Keiko’s eyes welled up with tears. Children were sometimes so fearless, so willing to trust and it made Keiko both proud and ashamed. Proud because she was witnessing her honest daughter promise to protect another life form from needless persecution and ashamed because deep down, she had felt originally fearful of Kajel simply because Kajel was a changeling. 

 

“Odo.” Keiko said softly. “I think it’s OK now.”

 

Odo glanced at her sidelong both nervous and concerned. “Are you sure?” 

 

Hearing his own fatherly protectiveness, Keiko moved closer to Odo and touched his elbow reassuringly. “It’s going to be OK. Have Gaven take the force field down.”

 

As Gaven prepared to obey, Keiko turned to Odo again. “Come on. Let’s go introduce our children.”

 

Keiko took his hand and led him out of the observation room and around to the entrance to meet up with Molly. Gaven waited for Odo to give him the signal and took the shield down.

 

Kajel was good about this and seemed to hold back from the edge. They seemed to know when the field was no longer limiting their movement in the room but waited almost nervously to approach.

 

“Oh, come on now.” Odo coaxed. “It’s alright to be shy. Come and meet Molly O’brien like we talked about.”

 

At the reassurance of Odo the younger changeling did slowly turn back into a puddle and cautiously approach them all. 

 

Seeing this Molly fanned out her dress and sat down on the floor with her hands open palms up waiting.

 

Kajel saw this and began to move with a little more confidence as Molly coaxed them into her lap. Kajel pooled in Molly’s overdress rising out of itself like a single probe to touch Molly’s cheek.  

 

“Odo?” Keiko asked softly, needing some guidance as she squeezed his hand while they kneeled nearby.

 

Gaven was holding Kirayoshi, still in the observation room.

 

“Kajel is attempting to imprint. It’s part of the learning process. It doesn’t hurt or do any harm to the subject.” Odo reassured her.

 

Kajel quivered like vibrations over water and after a few minutes eventually moved back out of Molly’s lap.

 

Here it is. Gaven thought as he watched the linking process of another species happen. This was going to be the final test. This moment would go far in defining what kind of future Kajel was going to have.

 

Moving a respectful distance away Kajel returned to their translucent state, quivered and in a blink almost faithfully assumed a mirror image of Molly’s form. 

 

Molly seemed unfazed by this and clapped again even as her mother silently gasped and grabbed Odo’s arm, more out of shock than anything.

 

“You did it! You look just like me!” Molly cheered a moment but then a thoughtful look came over her face. “It’s a good trick. But...Don’t you want to look like you?”

 

Only a child could frame such an exquisite question. “See Odo? He doesn’t copy anyone. He makes up his own face and everything.”

 

Kajel tilted their head mimicking Molly’s expression.

 

“Does Kajel understand Molly?” Keiko asked.

 

“Yes. More or less. I’ve made a point to talk to Kajel as much as I can, they understand the fundamentals of language as I did from hearing it...But, Kajel hasn’t expressed an interest in being verbal yet.”

Sensing that Kajel didn’t quite know what Molly meant. Molly glanced around the room. “Wait there. I’ll show you.” 

 

Molly got up then and went gathering dolls up and stuffed animals before she came back to her sitting place. There were about half a dozen mixed representations of humans and aliens and animals alike. “See how they’re all different? Even when they’re alike? Now that you know how to take my shape you can change things to look like you. You like colors. Try it.

 

Kajel picked up a doll and glanced up at Odo.

 

“Go on. You don’t need my permission. Try if you want. It’s OK. Self expression is very important.” Odo encouraged.

 

Looking down into their lap at the doll. Kajel started to shift almost experimentally as the mirror image began to distort in places. This was different then imprinting a form and required some trial and error.

 

 Keeping Molly’s naturally large eyes but changing the shape and the iris color to match Odo’s. The doll Kajel was holding was fair with pink hair and after studying the color and cut Kajel mimicked this. What resulted was a child taller than Molly with a fair complexion and somewhat long arms and legs almost mimicking the proportions of the doll. Ombre pink hair hung down in a layered cut and they were wearing a white dress that perfectly mimicked the doll.

 

And then something entirely unexpected happened. 

 

“I like this.” Kajel said. 

 

“I like her.” Kajel pointed at Molly. “Kajel is like Molly. Girl.” Kajel’s tone was watery but clear enough.

 

“Well, well. Alright then.” Odo mused. “I guess that question is settled.”

 

“Kajel looked back at Molly and attempted to smile with her new face. The expression didn’t quite come off, but the attempt was met with clapping and giggles.

 

“We’re friends now.” Molly said, inching closer to the now female identified changeling as she put her arms around the other girl’s waist. “Forever. Promise?”

 

“Kajel forever promise Molly’s friend.” And rested her arm around her shoulders.

 

~@~

 

“It’s simply amazing. I just can’t quite believe it. She’s so good at shapeshifting. Right away.” Odo mused later after Gaven had walked them home and Kajel was put to bed for the day after playing extensively with Molly O’brien.

 

Gaven smirked and, upon entering Odo’s quarters, perched on the arm of his guest couch to watch Odo excitedly pace back and forth. 

 

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised. Kajel has had the benefit of a mostly supportive growth environment. She’s been able to observe numerous lifeforms all in one location rather than a singular species.” Gaven pointed out.

 

“Yes. But I can’t do these things. Not to that mastery. What if she develops so quickly that I find I have nothing else to show her?” Odo didn’t sound particularly upset, just excited by the prospect.

 

“Kajel is still inexperienced about many many things. She will need you Odo especially if a connection to the great link is denied to her. As for your development in comparison to hers...You by your own accounts developed in a hostile environment. There could be any number of reasons your progress at specific skills have been harder won. I know everyone talks about Kajel in terms of being a child but...It’s possible that she’s as old as you but has simply been dormant longer. Early development of changelings is not a matter of how much time they’ve existed but rather by how much information they’ve absorbed.” Gaven reminded him.

 

“That’s true. I remember one of the Founders once telling me that my people were timeless. She might have meant that more literally than not. Anyway...I asked you to walk back with us because I wanted to thank you for your ongoing support. I don’t know if this play date would have ever happened if you hadn’t encouraged it and made it possible for the O’Brien’s to cross Kajel’s path when they did.” Odo said, finally settling down into a tall chair.

 

“This was an important day.” Gaven nodded. “The fact that it went well is reassuring.”

 

“So. You were worried.” Odo observed.

 

“Only so far as the war with the Dominion is concerned. It’s going to start any time now and tensions directed at the changeling species are apt to heighten. Kajel, like yourself, is an exception and it’s going to be important that people recognize that about both of you.” Gaven said.

 

“Yes. I don’t want people to be afraid of her or us.” Odo agreed. “They’re starting to talk about evacuating non-essential personnel and civilians off the station. It’s been done before as you know but if it comes to that this time…” 

 

“I know. It feels permanent.” Gaven agreed.

 

“I don’t worry so much about myself. I’ve seen this station last through numerous transitions of purpose and control but now that I have Kajel I don’t know that I want to put her through that kind of experience when she’s so impressionable. I thought, perhaps when the time came to send her to Bajor. To Doctor Mora. He is practically her grandfather...But Kajel doesn’t know him at all and Bajor is still perilously close to the recent conflicts that have been emerging. I don’t know what to do.” 

 

“Think on it.” Gaven suggested. “There’s no need to make any decisions yet and you might try discussing it with Kajel and getting her opinions. Her language will continue to develop, and she certainly understands most of what you’re telling her.”

 

“I suppose you’re right. What about you? You’re leaving soon. Aren’t you?” He inquired.

 

“Yes. Just for a little while to help Cheval settle up some personal business within his family.” Gaven explained.

 

“I’ve heard the two of you have been taking combat training with Worf. This thing you’re going to help him with isn’t dangerous, is it?” A concerned look came over his usually serious features.

 

“I don’t think so. But if there is anything I’ve learned while being out in deep space it is to err on the side of caution in all things.” Gaven smiled slightly. “Have no fear, Mr. Odo.”

 

“Mm. I’ll do my best to try.” He nodded slowly.

 

~@~

 

Another precious few weeks passed without much alteration although the station was beginning to thin out again as rumors persisted that a war with the Dominion was eminent. Deep Space Nine had yet to receive any marching orders so the senior staff and remaining personnel waited with marked anticipation and trepidation for something, anything to break.

 

One surprising bright spot was the ongoing development of Kajel Odo and Molly O’Brien’s friendship.

 

Kajel mostly stuck to her preferred appearance, occasionally changing up the hair color and style using an array of pastels which seemed to be her favorite colors. When she did shapeshift, it was usually done in more private settings so most people who saw Kajel out and about generally forgot or didn't know she was a changeling. Her language skills also developed quickly mostly because Molly loved to incessantly talk to her and quickly taught her how to read and write as well. 

 

Since her first linking experience outside of Odo with an advanced lifeform had been that of a human child, in many ways Kajel retained a child-like expression and generally had similar aptitudes to Molly, although she would progress intellectually much quicker. Kajel also seemed to have a strong respect for rules. No doubt influenced by both Odo and Keiko who both tended to be organized and constructive parents. Molly was an artistic and generally well-behaved child as well, so the dynamic was complimentary between them. Soon enough it was common for Kajel to be regularly with Molly when Odo had to be away from home. 

 

Even with this pleasantness, the tension in general still mounted on the station until finally something broke.

 

It started when rumors began to circulate that both the Romulans and Bajor were in non-aggression talks with the Dominion. Benjamin had quietly been able to confirm that the Romulans had indeed signed a treaty while the Bajoran's were still in preliminary talks. Orders also began to come through requesting civilians return to their respective homeworlds for their own protection.

 

Throughout all of this, more and more Jem’Hadar ships were moving through the wormhole enroute to Cardassia indicating that a crisis was imminent. Benjamin did not take any of this lightly and pushed Starfleet Command to begin making some hard choices. Namely ones that would lead to the halt of gathering Dominion forces in the Alpha Quadrant. Benjamin had a plan. One that he'd held off exploring until now.

 

The plan was to stop the arrival of more convoys by placing mines at the threshold of the wormhole. A line had to be drawn in the sand and if it led to war then Benjamin pragmatically believed it would be a necessary evil in order to bring the hope of peace and balance back into the quadrant.

 

The quiet advancement of this plan meant an acceleration of various other plans. Leeta and Rom's engagement party was canceled in favor of a quickie wedding that Benjamin had been roped into officiating as both the Bajoran Emissary as well as a Starfleet Captain. The O’Brien’s also prepared for Keiko to take herself and her children back to Earth. 

 

There was a surprise twist in the latter case.

 

"You want us to do what?" Miles asked, clearly unsure if he'd heard correctly upon hearing why the Captain wanted to meet with the O’Brien’s one morning.

 

Odo had been waiting for Miles and Keiko alongside Benjamin when they arrived.

 

"I...I was wondering if you might consider…" Odo hesitantly repeated.

 

"I heard what you said," Miles remarked lightly. "I'm just trying to make sense of it. You want Keiko to take Kajel with her. Back to Earth. Sorry but, why not Bajor? That's much closer and there'd be far less risk of prejudice there."

 

"I thought about it. Truly. I concede that I was studied on Bajor and have no doubt Dr. Mora would take on Kajel without question, but," Odo continued to stumble. "The Dominion could still find her there. They could take her away from me if they knew she existed. I don't want Kajel to become what the Dominion would have her be."

 

"I've run it by Starfleet Command. They agree that there is something to be said for hiding Kajel in plain sight. They are willing to allow you to take responsibility for Kajel bringing Kajel provided that she be restrained to the limits of your property and closely monitored.  They feel her contact with other people will be minimal given the remote nature of your home on Earth. Starfleet would be available for extra support should problems arise. The choice is of course yours to make." Benjamin said. “It would be considered a confidential mission.”

 

"I see. Could we have some time to think about it? You know, discuss it as a family." He inquired.

 

"Miles," Keiko said flatly through her teeth, kicking him sidelong in the shin.

 

"What? Are you trying to tell me we don't have to discuss it?" He replied to his wife.

 

"If you'll excuse us for a second." Keiko said politely, pulling her husband away to one side of the office.

 

"We can do this, Miles. Kajel is Molly's best friend and we've been treating her like one of the family for weeks. If we say no now how do you think that's going to make Kajel feel. What kind of example would we be setting if we said no?" Keiko asked.

 

“I’m not objecting, love. I have nothing against Kajel, I just worry about her safety with us. We’ve been fighting endlessly to keep the Dominion back and to stop the changeling species from infiltrating the Alpha quadrant. IF we do this, we’ll be knowingly harboring a changeling on Earth. If anyone were to find out, I don’t know what could happen. I’m thinking of Kajel’s safety as well as the safety of you and the children. I love you.”

 

“I love you too. Especially when you do the right thing no matter how hard or dangerous it is.” Keiko replied.

 

“Alright. So long as we both agree this is craziness. If we do this, it’s going to be important that no one find out what Kajel is.” Miles turned back towards the Captain. “You promise me that Starfleet is going to help keep Kajel and my family safe on earth?”

 

Benjamin nodded slowly. “You have my word.”

 

“It’s my hope that this would only be temporary. Weeks at most. You would of course be within your rights to send her back to me or to Doctor Mora on Bajor if any problems arise.” Odo assured them.

 

“Right. Easy peasy.” Miles muttered. “Does she know this is a possibility?”

 

“Huh, well,” Odo hesitated. “It was actually Kajel’s idea to begin with. When she heard your children and wife were leaving, she expressed displeasure at the idea of being separated so soon. She’s aware of who and what the Dominion is. At least so far as I am aware since we share our information in the linking process. I am confident she understands how things will need to be if she’s allowed to go.” 

 

“Ah. Well, alright then.” Miles muttered.

 

When he caught Keiko staring at him expectantly, Miles threw up his hands. “It’s fine. I’m fine with it. Really. The more the merrier, Mr. Odo. I’m sure Molly’s going to be excited to have Kajel along with her and I will be excited when my family is safely off this station.”

 

~@~

 

[1]Later that day, Weyoun arrived to attempt to negotiate with Benjamin regarding the removal of the wormhole mines in favor of the Dominion limiting their passages to economic and medical assistance convoys. Despite the word play on both sides feigning consideration of these terms. Benjamin walked away with the secure assurance that the Dominion had no intention of complying with their own agreements and that they were significantly angered by the mere suggestion of any restriction through the wormhole.

 

Sensing that conflict was upon them Benjamin assembled his senior staff to announce the inevitable. The Dominion was going to attack Deep Space Nine as soon as the next day. 

 

This information was met with measured alarm among Martok and Benjamin's own people.

 

A plan was quickly devised to send Martok along the border as an early warning system, with instruction to return to the station at the first sign of trouble. Julian who had command training and in times like this tended to be critical of how wartime conflict was handled or not handled grimly stepped forward inquiring about the possibility of requesting more ships to defend the station. As expected, this idea was turned down. There was going to be no additional aid from Starfleet Command, they were going to have to make do with what they had. They were for all intents and purposes on their own. At this news with nothing else to do about it, Julian dismissed himself, his mind now shifting to thoughts of preparing the infirmary for future casualties while the others were left to prepare for the impending conflict. 

 

Through all this people like Gaven and Ziyal knew little of what was going on. They were civilians and thus not privy to the rapid developments going on around them. Gaven only noticed something emergent was afoot when word went out across the station that all Bajorans were being ordered to return to Bajor immediately for their own protection. Upon inquiry Gaven was able to learn through the promenade grape vine that Bajor had just signed a nonaggression pact with the Dominion. Gaven had no doubt this was a strategic move to protect Bajor since they were not members of the Federation and not therefore entitled to priority protection in the quadrant.

 

Sensing trouble Gaven begged off his shift at Quark’s early and went to find Julian. The obvious place was in the infirmary but when he arrived and saw that it had been outfitted to wartime standards and that Julian had been there but had since left, he instead headed for his quarters. It was improbable that Julian would be in his own quarters given that in recent weeks they’d all but moved in together.

 

When Gaven arrived home, he found Julian waiting for him. 

 

“Well?” Gaven asked when he saw Julian standing pensively in the center of the living room.

 

“It’s starting. I anticipate we have less than twenty-four hours now.” Julian confirmed. “You understand what this means, right?”

 

Gaven watched him intently. There was something heartsick in Julian’s expression. He looked world weary but resolved in the reality of the situation.

 

“Julian.” Gaven approached him and wrapped his arms around the younger man holding him tightly to him.

 

“You need to leave, Gaven. It’s not going to be safe for you or anyone else here soon. I don’t want you anywhere near this station. You need to go as far away as you can.” Julian said against his throat. “I want you with people we can trust. I’ve spoken to Jyrrus Cheval already. He agrees that the time for your departure is imminent and he’s already arranged secure transport for the both of you back to Vulcan. I...I know I haven’t been supportive of your intentions to leave the station in the past but...Maybe, no matter how this conflict shakes out. Maybe you shouldn’t come back.”

 

“What?” Gaven’s breath caught, and he pulled back enough to look Julian in the face. “Julian, I am coming back here. One way or another. We’re together. You can’t just expect me to disregard that on a whim.”

 

“No. See. I’ve been thinking about it and no matter how I turn the idea around I can’t make it fit.” Julian wiggled out of Gaven’s hold and began retreating towards the end of the sofa.

 

Gaven didn’t reply right away because he could sense Julian needed to be allowed to go on. Instead, he stepped slowly towards him trying to keep Julian within reaching distance without seeming like he was.

 

“You don’t belong here, Gaven. You’ve said it yourself time and again this station can never be your home and after everything we’ve been through and everything, I’ve come to understand about you I can’t deny no matter how much I want to that it’s true. You don’t deserve to be caught up in this conflict. You don’t deserve to spend all of your new life hiding who you are and following commands from a power that has no real claim on you as a free person.” Julian mused.

 

“What about you and I?” Gaven asked flatly. “Julian, I love you. You’re the closest thing I have to a life companion and to...to a family. You expect me to just walk away from that like it never happened?” 

 

“Yes,” Julian said firmly. “You have to, Gaven. If you don’t do this, you may come to regret it someday. I love you and I believe you love me, but you’ve said it yourself. I can’t be the center of your world. In truth I don’t think anyone should be. It’s possible, just possible that such times have passed for you permanently.”

 

“That is not for you to decide, Julian. Don’t do it this way.” Gaven warned him. “If you want me to go because you’re afraid for me or because you love me, then fine. But don’t dress this matter up as some fateful insight or pageantry on your part.”

 

“You know what I’m telling you is true.” Julian said more quietly.

 

“We are not to know these things, Doctor,” Gaven said cuttingly. “You have caught me at a disadvantage since you knew perfectly well that, a conflict with the Dominion or not, I was bound to leave the station eventually. What you’ve failed to consider is that I’m leaving because I must. I am leaving because there are things I have promised to do. Things that are as much about my own liberation as it is the liberation of others involved in the business. But those things were never meant to be a permanent detriment from coming back here or doing anything else I decided to do. How can you say you don’t want me to come back when you didn’t want me to go in the first place?”

 

Julian frowned but did not further defend himself. “The transport leaves in an hour. Cheval has agreed to meet you at the docking bay. I...I have to go back to the infirmary and finish making alterations and preparations for the impending conflict. I’m sorry, but I probably won’t be able to see you off.”

 

Julian gingerly stood and began to move past Gaven as if he intended to go.

 

“Julian, don’t leave me here like this.” Gaven looked genuinely hurt and startled by the realization that Julian wasn’t going to relent as he grabbed him firmly by the upper arm catching him as they passed.

 

On instinct, Julian put his other hand compassionately over Gaven’s where he gripped him. “Please, Gaven. Let me go.”

 

He spoke the words softly and nearly on an exhale. There were unshed tears in his sad eyes that mirrored Gaven’s own.

 

Letting out a single scoffing sob, Gaven did let him go and gently pulled back from him.

 

Julian pursed his lips as if he thought to say something but instead simply turned away and walked out the door.

 

Gaven watched him go. A part of him still utterly unbelieving. When Julian was finally gone, Gaven sunk slowly to the floor confused and heartbroken and began a low keening cry.

 

Elsewhere on the station countless others were also having difficult discussions and saying their goodbyes. Some like Miles and Odo had already sent their loved ones on so that they could force themselves to focus on the tasks at hand. Other’s like Gaven found themselves being ushered hurriedly and against their preferences to evacuate like Leeta. While others still, parted with words of comfort and vows of survival and reunion.

 

Gaven did not have the benefit of grieving long. He allowed himself his initial reaction and then forced himself to rise off the floor. It would be a simple matter to collect his belongings together. Nearly everything he had could be placed in a bag or two. The rest were Julian’s things. His uniforms, his beloved teddy bear, trinkets of their dates. There wasn’t time to remove these traces of his lover from the room. Julian would have to do it himself on his own time.

 

It took Gaven a handful of minutes to pack his life away as if he’d never been there. Moving into the bedroom, Gaven arranged the selection of pads that had the coded history of his homeworld and culture. To anyone else other than those who had been given the secret of the volumes the pads would read like expansive fiction. Gaven pulled his personal log out of a drawer, the one that was coded in the Oum language, and began to place it in his pack. But a thought suddenly occurred to him and he removed it again walking over to the computer console in the living room to have the computer make a copy of the data chip in the pad. Fingering this copy he then walked back into the bedroom.

 

“Well, Kukalaka? Think you can do me one small parting favor?” Gaven gently walked to the bed he and Julian so commonly shared and gently picked up the ancient stuffed bear. 

 

There was a spot by its ear that had developed a small hole. Julian had planned to fix it at some point now that he had the toy back from Leeta thanks to certain shenanigans by Jake Sisko and Nog that had involved them stealing it back for Julian.

 

Fingering the copied data chip, Gaven carefully inserted it into the bear making sure that it was well embedded within the center of the stuffing and wouldn’t come loose even if the bear was handled excessively. He then replaced it on the bed.

 

“Look out for him for me, little friend. Until I can come back and do it for you.” Gaven said as he rubbed hard at his face and walked slowly out of the bedroom with his bags in hand.

 

Notes:

[1] The rest of this chapter references events from the episode “A Call to Arms” (DS9:S5:E26). Some dialogue was taken directly from the episode.

Chapter 53: The Lines of Loyalty

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

ACT III

[1]Chapter Fifty-Three: The Lines of Loyalty

 

Gaven made sure to stop off at Quark’s to relay that he was being evacuated from the station. Quark didn’t seem incredibly surprised by this but quietly wished him well, thanking him for his help and assuring Gaven that when, emphasis on when, he came back his job would be waiting for him. 

 

He then briefly spoke with Benjamin whom he was hard pressed not to hold up given the nature of the man’s responsibilities. Gaven related where he would likely be once they arrived on Vulcan and had the information sent on to Starfleet who were eager to see their asset leave for safer waters. Gaven didn’t mention Julian. He only related his hope that the station would succeed in keeping the Dominion back. Gaven requested that Benjamin extend his well wishes to the rest of the senior staff and then swiftly departed with Benjamin’s blessing.

 

Everyone it seemed was evacuating and despite his efficient efforts it proved challenging to pick his way back through the promenade in order to get to where Cheval was due to meet him. While enroute, Gaven very nearly walked right into Garak who was on his way back from seeing Ziyal off.

 

“Doctor, I didn’t realize you were leaving as well?” Garak said, catching Gaven by the arm and steadying him. He frowned when he caught the look on Gaven’s face. “Are you alright?”

 

“No.” Gaven said. “Julian and I have had a fight and I don’t have time to fix things between us.”

 

“I see.” Garak hemmed. “Why don’t you come this way a minute and tell me what’s happened. I’m sure you can spare a few moments of your time.”

 

Gaven swallowed hard. “I can't, I have to meet Cheval. I...”

 

“Humor me, my friend. I assume you’re going to Vulcan. That’s a very long trip to have to stomach while stuck with a species who don't appreciate the full gravity of one's emotions. You’d better unburden yourself on me. Whatever’s happened it won’t do for you to part from this station so grieved.” 

 

Gaven gave under Garak’s hold a little. “Fine. Fine.”

 

Seconds later, Garak had taken his packs from him and set him down at a small discrete table of a nearby cafe.

 

“The long and short of it is, Julian’s told me not to come back to the station. He’s talking as if he doesn’t want to see me again.” Gaven was still dumbfounded by the entire exchange.

 

“Well, that’s ridiculous because he absolutely loves you and you certainly have every intention of returning because you love him back. He of all people should know that by now.” Garak flippantly said.

 

“He’s pushing me away. Damn it. And he knows I’m not able to contradict him. I just don’t understand. He’s the one that insisted we try to be together and now? Even if a war wasn’t right on our doorstep, this trip was imminent. I have to go back to Vulcan to help free myself and Jyrrus of a complication regarding the entanglements of our minds. Now I wish...I wish I could stay and help all of you instead. I don’t want to leave him, Garak. I don’t want to lose someone I love all over again. Why is he doing this?” Gaven lamented.

 

“Gaven. You can’t help anyone until you learn to help yourself first. Julian is a very emotional and at times fickle young man. If he’s pushed you away like this it’s because he feels that he has no choice and he’d rather hurt himself now upfront than wonder. Julian is a Starfleet officer. Unlike many of us who have the option of running away from this station and the conflicts in this quadrant, Julian and the rest of his comrades do not. They must stand and fight. Just as you must go back to Vulcan. The rest is beyond any of our control.” Garak said firmly.

 

“Are you leaving?” Gaven asked, abruptly.

 

“Uh, no. Why would I? I have nowhere else to go and I do happen to consider this station to be my home.” He replied.

 

“You have to watch out for him, Garak. For all of them if you can. I have every intention of coming back for Julian whether he wants me to or not, but in the event this war prevents me…” Gaven began to say.

 

“You have my word, Gaven. I will do everything I can to ensure you get your chance to see Julian again. Now you’d better go while you still can. Safe journey, my friend.” Garak took up Gaven's hands and squeezed them then helped him to his feet and passed his bags back to him. 

 

"Thank you. Elim. Until we meet again." Gaven hugged Garak, a sentiment the Cardassian hadn't expected and then turned on his heels and forced himself to march away.

 

Garak pressed his lips. Watching until Gaven fully disappeared. He then cleared his throat and shook his head.

 

"I must say, Julian really is a damn fool sometimes. One of these days I must remember to tell him so." Garak remarked to himself.

 

~@~

 

Thanks to Cheval’s ambassador status the three-week trip back to Vulcan was carried out via Starship which afforded them temporary accommodations that, though cramped, were comfortable enough. The traveling companions did not speak. The circumstances of their departure from Deep Space Nine weighed heavily on both their minds and their understanding of each other rendered speech unnecessary. Cheval knew Gaven was deeply upset and that when he was ready to discuss his feelings he would.

 

On the fourth day of their journey Gavin didn't appear in the ship's cantina to take breakfast prompting Cheval to check on him. Due to limited space on the Starship because of the number of civilians that were being transported home to several planets including Earth, Vulcan, and others in the region, Gaven and Jyrrus had not been able to room together but had been placed conveniently close enough to be able to easily move back and forth between each other’s cabins.

 

 Cheval was able to access Gaven's cabin directly when he entered, he found his friend pensively sitting near the window watching the stars. Their cabins were small and identical consisting only of a small bed with overhead storage, a chair and writing desk, and a small, cramped lavatory.

 

Cheval could sense that Gaven was doing everything in his power to block Cheval out of his mind which was a clear sign that his feelings we’re extremely painful to him. To Cheval’s relief, he was at least fully present and not caught up in one of his meditative purges. Still, he hardly seemed to notice when Cheval appeared.

 

“Doctor.”

 

“Hm? Oh. Breakfast. I’m sorry. I should have sent word. I’m not very hungry this morning.” Gaven quietly said.

 

He didn’t bother to pull his eyes away from the stars.

 

Cheval pressed his lips and came to sit on the edge of the bed beside the chair Gaven had turned and was presently sitting upon. “Vulcan is a long way off. I might dissuade you from fasting to ease a sickened heart.”

 

Gaven grunted. “Why do I feel like we’re both returning to Vulcan with our tails between our legs?”

 

“I see you have become fluent in human metaphor.” Cheval quipped.

 

Gaven smiled wryly and finally turned his face towards Jyrrus.  “He sent me away.”

 

“I presume you are referring to Doctor Bashir.”

 

“He didn’t even discuss it with me. He just stood there and told me not to come back. I know things were serious when we left. Everyone was scrambling to get the station ready for battle. Logically, I know that there just wasn’t any time. But it’s been four days and there hasn’t been any word. I know Julian is a Starfleet officer and I know the war has started and it may be a long time now before we hear anything, but it hurts to leave like this. It hurts to not know what’s going on. I feel like I didn’t get to say goodbye. Julian didn’t let me.” Gaven explained.

 

Jyrrus frowned deeply. There was nothing he could think to say to comfort him. Gaven had not told him the specifics of what had happened between he and Julian on the station. But he knew that when Julian had approached him insisting Jyrrus move up their plans and take Gaven with him upon evacuating the station, there was steely determination masking his emotions. He had not asked Jyrrus. He had told him. Just as he had likely faced Gaven and told him he was to leave.

 

“It is logical that Doctor Bashir would want you to leave the station. I do not believe he would have abided any other scenario. His sole focus was to ensure that you were safe.” Jyrrus said at length.

 

“That reasoning, however logical, is not good enough for me.” Gaven replied darkly. “If he had only asked me to leave that would have been one thing but he told me not to return. He told me that he thought it was for the best. Why is it Jyrrus that so many people think they know what’s best for me? Hm? Julian may want to keep me safe. If our positions were reversed, I would want the same but there is something deeper here. He’s being selfish. This is all about what’s easier for him and he doesn’t give a damn about how he’s made me feel. I see now that I made a mistake. I should have never allowed my feelings for him to override my reason. I had nothing to offer him except my feelings.” Gaven looked down remorsefully at his open palms.

 

“No.” Jyrrus insisted reaching out to take possession of his friend’s wrists. “You were prepared to offer him the highest place in your life. He may never know the cost you’ve incurred to open that place for him within yourself. It is he and not you who has errored here. I do not have the power to ease this suffering for you. Nor do I have the words to guide you through your losses. But I will not leave you to bear this alone. You are my friend, and you will always hold a place of honor in my life.”

 

Gaven grasped Jyrrus’ hands and squeezed raising them up out of his lap and shaking them between them. “The intimate matter between myself and Julian can’t be important right now. I will settle matters with him another time and in another place if he makes it out of this war. All I care about now is seeing you to Vulcan and dealing with the task at hand. We will make things right where we can.”

 

Cheval could feel Gaven compartmentalizing all his emotions centered around Julian and his other friends still on Deep Space Nine. He could sense his anguish but felt Gaven cover it with a tight cap of anger before he buried the whole mess deeply in in the back if his mind.

 

Through this mental battle Gaven refused to allow his feelings to boil over into tears. He was done crying over his own folly. Gaven brought Cheval’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them in thanks he then let them drop gently.

 

“Tell me everything you think is prudent to know about what we’re walking into when we get to Vulcan.” Gaven demanded softly.

 

If he couldn’t find the solution to one problem, it was only logical to switch to analyzing another.

 

~@~

 

Once all the civilians had been evacuated off the station it was only a matter of hours before the Dominion’s forces struck. If there was one victory in the entire business, it was that the self-replicating mine field was holding which put a limit, however large, on how many forces the Dominion could throw at the station and its allies. In the end though, Gul Dukat was able to retake the station.

 

Benjamin ordered his people to evacuate, and half the remaining crew were split up with Kira, Odo, Rom and Quark agreeing to stay behind while the others retreated with Benjamin. Unbeknownst to Benjamin, Jake had also opted to remain and was unknowing left behind.

 

For the next three months Benjamin remained on the Defiant with what were left of his officers fighting off Jem’Hadar ships, running interference, and helping other crippled ships limp their way to safety where it could be had. In that time few personal communications were going out or coming in. Everyone was caught up in the war for dominance over the Alpha quadrant.

 

Engage, retreat. Engage, retreat.

 

It was a vicious and grueling cycle, and the Dominion had the advantage.

 

To cope most of the officers did their level best to stay focused on their tasks. But not everyone on the Defiant was an officer. Elim Garak for example. Not believing it wise to remain anywhere where Gul Dukat was in control, Garak had retreated with Benjamin offering up his help and expertise where it could be utilized. Everyone was glad to have him on the team. Even for Elim though things were rocky and although he generally got along with everyone Julian was the only person on the Defiant, he might have counted as a close friend.

 

Julian however was not inclined since their retreat to entertain Garak much and even if he had Garak realized rather swiftly that something had come over the doctor. It appeared Julian Bashir had finally decided to drop all pretense. For a long time Garak watched Julian from afar. Mapping his acute change in character. If Garak had hoped Julian would provide some semblance of diversion through his usually boyish, compassionate, and curious demeanor he found himself acutely disappointed. Then after a while he shifted from being saddened and disappointed about it to being frustrated and annoyed.

 

Julian, it appeared, had turned into a highly sophisticated and emotionally stunted machine.

 

But what pushed Garak over the edge was the day a communication finally made it through the channels from Vulcan. It was an old message, months out of date that simply related that Cheval and Gaven had made it to Vulcan in one piece and that Gaven was requesting any news of their wellbeing he could get even if they couldn’t disclose their exact position or situation. When Benjamin had passed the message on to everyone collective relief and good feelings had been exchanged among their crew all except for Julian who had acted as if he’d barely heard and then promptly disappeared back to his medical bay.

 

Garak had witnessed this reaction and, knowing the intimate details of their parting and Gaven’s hurt shock, he made a point at his next available opportunity to say something to Julian.

 

His opportunity came a day later after he’d taken a nasty hit to the face upon being thrown into a bulkhead during one of their minor skirmishes.

 

When he reported to sick bay in order to treat his mild concussion and facial abrasions Garak found himself alone. When Julian finally appeared, he practically moseyed into sick bay looking disinterested and unimpressed.

 

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to give up hope, Doctor.” Garak rattled as he held the side of his aching head.

 

Julian shook his head and slipped past Garak uninterested in the lecture he sensed the Cardassian was gearing up for. Since retreating from the station like the rest of them Julian looked thinner and less patient. His hair was cropped short, and his sleeves were perpetually always rolled up in preparation for swift and efficient medical intervention.

 

“I would think all those lunches we’ve shared would have entitled me to preferential treatment.” Garak prattled following Julian as he walked to the corner of small med bay office.

 

“Look.” Julian said turning around, his body tense and almost threatening as they stood practically nose to nose. Julian did his best to keep his voice as soft as possible when he spoke, but he couldn’t completely keep the irritation and stress out of his tone. “I have twelve wounded officers and crewmen out there, all of them who are in a lot worse shape than you, Garak.”

 

Garak wasn’t about to back down now though and continued to trial him around the room. “Well, if you’re trying to cheer me up it’s working. I feel better already.”

 

“What happened?” Julian asked as he studied his computer screen only half listening.

 

I was studying some star charts for Captain Sisko during the last assault when I had a sudden and rather violent encounter with a bulkhead.” Garak explained.

 

“You’ll live.” Julian muttered dismissively.

 

“I wish I shared your confidence.” Garak replied irritably. “I’m sure my head will heal, but the way this war is going I wouldn’t bet on any of us living to a ripe old age.”

 

Garak was testing now. Their whole conversation really was being carefully directed and analyzed by the astute Cardassian.

 

“I admit, the odds are not good, but they could be worse.” Julian replied feeling Garak was being just a tad overdramatic and not caring to indulge him.

 

“Let me guess. You’ve used your genetically enhanced brain to calculate our chances of survival.” Garak surmised pointedly.

 

“It really wasn’t that difficult.” Julian finished scanning Garak’s head wound while he quickly began to prattle off his methodology like an unfeeling computer spitting out its computations. “I simply started with a binominal…”

 

Garak had no tolerance for this and promptly cut him off.

 

“I’m really not interested, Doctor. Ever since it’s become public knowledge that you’re genetically engineered, you’ve used every opportunity to show off.” Garak criticized.

 

“I have nothing to hide anymore.” Julian replied flatly as he continued his ministrations. “I might as well use what I have.”

 

“Well, what are our chances? Over fifty percent?” Garak asked hopefully turning to face him.

 

“Thirty-two…point seven.” Julian corrected him with unnecessary precision.

 

“I’m sorry I asked. Are you certain about that figure?” Garak pressed.

 

“Do you want me to take you through the entire set of calculations?” Julian threatened.

 

“Not really.” Garak admitted rolling his gaze sideways as he rapidly processed several calculations of his own that had nothing to do with the war.

 

“Genetically engineered, indeed.” Garak muttered under his breath when Julian turned away from him.

 

This was enough to prompt Julian to turn back around. The threating edge was still in his voice.

 

“Excuse me?” He inquired.

 

“Well look at you. You act as if you haven’t a care in the world. It’s exactly that kind of smug, superior attitude that makes people like you so unpopular. I have no idea how Gaven put up with it all those months you two were together.” Garak baited.

 

“Are you trying to insult me?” Julian asked in appraising wonder.

 

A thirty-two point seven chance of survival – I call that insulting.” Garak muttered indignantly.

 

Julian ignored his tone and pretended he hadn’t heard Garak drop Gaven’s name as he went on scanning him with his medical tools. “It’s strictly a matter of mathematics.”

 

“No.” Garak protested. “It’s strictly a matter of our lives. You’re not genetically engineered. You’re a Vulcan. For heaven’s sake Jyrrus Cheval is more human than you. I can utterly understand now why Gaven ran off with him.”

 

“Gaven didn’t run off with anyone. He evacuated the station under orders like everyone else. And, if I’m a Vulcan, then how do you explain my boyish smile?”

 

“Not so boyish anymore, Doctor.” Garak said slyly. “And I know I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

 

“Are you done?” Julian chirped.

 

“Hardly. Just tell me this. Do you have absolutely any plans of telling Gaven we’re alive? Or are you just going to allow him to compute the odds all on his own? I ask because I think he deserves some kind of response from one of us. Why don’t you use that superior brain of yours to calculate the odds of which one of us it’s going to be? Hm?” Garak rattled.

 

At this Julian rolled his eyes and spun away.

 

“You don’t care do you? You have absolutely no plans whatsoever to even try to be a decent human being. What has Gaven ever done to you to deserve that kind of freeze out? I take it back. You’re not a Vulcan, you’re an unfeeling machine. And for the record, doctor, that was an insult.”

“Garak, I’m only going to tell you once. Stay. Out of it.” Julian firmly said.

 

“Stay out of what? Your non-existent relationship with an alien imposter you jilted because things got a little hard? I think I’m starting to see shades of what Conrad Wittle saw in you Julian. And frankly I am not impressed. Gaven does not deserve such flagrant inconsideration and you do not deserve to be the beneficiary of his undying devotion. Now. If you’ll kindly excuse me. I have a letter to write to a very beloved friend of mine who, I’m sure, will be grateful to receive it. Good day, Doctor.” At that Garak promptly turned around and left.

 

“You’re certainly right about one thing, Garak.” Julian muttered under his breath to himself once he was completely alone. “Gaven doesn’t deserve to experience any of this horror. No one does.”

 

~@~

 

For nearly three months the Dominion remained in control of Deep Space Nine. Countless missions were carried at by all its officers both on the station and off. Eventually Kira, Rom, Odo, Jake and Leeta -who had returned to the station for Rom- joined forces to sabotage Dukat and his plans by any means necessary. But even their valiant efforts were eventually betrayed. It appeared not all wars were to be fought solely on the battlefield of space.

 

While Garak had been busy chastising Julian of his perceived disloyalties, Odo was on Deep Space Nine facing his own demons in the form of one of the female Founders who had arrived at the station to get Odo to see things the Dominion’s way once and for all.

 

“It’s Major Kira isn’t it. You still have strong feelings for her. She does not deserve your loyalty, Odo. You cannot allow a solid to deny you your rightful place in the Great Link.” The female changeling insisted after she’d spent a considerable amount of time seducing him with the allure and transcendence of the Great Link. “I couldn’t permit it.”

 

Her final remark was one step too far. Until then Odo had been almost convinced to put the desire to connect with his people and his higher self above everyone and everything else, that he nearly threw everything that had mattered to him away in that moment.

 

Almost.

 

“What are you saying?” A suspicion of a deeper betrayal than anything that the Female changeling had already wrought was dawning on him suddenly.

 

“The major has been arrested.” The female changeling revealed.

 

“On what charge?” Odo asked in disbelief ebbing closer to her.

 

“That hardly matters. What matters is that she will be found guilty and sentenced to death.” She replied.

 

“No.” Odo reeled back in horror.

 

“Her death is your salvation.” The female changeling insisted. “Link with me, Odo. Embrace the clarity. It is the only thing that will give you peace.”

 

“No!” Odo retreated, still barely believing.

 

“You cannot help her, Odo. You cannot help any of the solids, no matter how much you may want to. It’s too late for them. Kira must die and anyone else found to have helped her must be punished.” She appealed him.

 

Horror blossomed through Odo like a poisonous garden under moonlight. “What…What will you do?”

 

“Whatever I have to help you see the truth.” The female changeling assured him. “You belong with us. Not them.”

 

In short order, all Odo’s friends had been found out on the station and taken into custody.  

 

Luckily though Benjamin’s coup to retake the station was simultaneously in hand. It had cost their allies dearly to help the Defiant break through the Cardassian-Dominion lines, but after destroying the remaining store of ketracel-white in the alpha quadrant which would guarantee the eventual crippling of the Jem’Hadar forces now trapped on their side of the worm hole, Benjamin had made a direct run for Deep Space Nine. Time was not on their side, however. After three months of desperate struggle to bring down the minefield that was impairing the Dominion from sending the full brunt of their innumerable forces through, Damar and Dukat and his minions had finally devised a means to bring it down.

 

It was everyone working against everyone else. Kira and the other’s short salvation came in the form of the unlikely Quark who managed with the help of Ziyal to neutralize their prison warden and take out the Jem’Hadar guarding them. Once released they knew they had to try and bring the main computer system down. To accomplish this Kira and Rom split from the others but were pinned down by heavy fire from the Jem’Hadar.

 

For a moment all looked lost. Until Odo finally redeemed himself and came to their defense taking out their assailants with his newly reinstated Bajoran security team. Apparently, whatever the female changeling had tried to convince him of had not been completely successful.

 

“You have less than forty minutes to shut down the main computer.” Odo warned them.

 

“I hope that’s enough time-“ Rom remarked.

 

 “It’ll have to be.” Kira muttered. “Can you keep the Dominion patrols off our backs? “

 

“I’ll head down to security, create enough false alarm to keep them occupied. Any questions?” Odo asked, preparing to part from them.

 

“I could ask why.” Kira admitted, still understandably confused how Odo could betray them and then turn around and help them.

 

“I don’t think there’s time to explain it. Besides, I think you know the answer.” Odo replied as he helped her into one of the electrical access tunnels.

 

“What about the Link?” Kira asked dully.

 

“The Link was paradise.” Odo explained. “But it appears I’m not ready for paradise. Good luck.”

 

“You too.” She replied softly.

 

Meanwhile, the Defiant raced alone desperately trying to reach the station in time.

 

“Sir. The Klingons have out flanked us. Our lines are beginning to crumble.” Damar desperately informed him as Dukat stood with the female changeling and Weyoun overseeing the field of battle.

 

“There’s nothing to worry about.”  Dukat reassured them all with fatherly confidence. “In exactly four minutes, thousands of Dominion ships will come pouring through that wormhole. I just hope the Defiant gets here in time for Sisko to see it.”

 

“The last mines have been neutralized. We’re ready to detonate the minefield, sir.” Dukat’s officer informed him.

 

 Dukat leaned back in satisfaction. “Fire.”

 

The moment would live on in infamy.

 

Everyone. Everyone felt it. The beginning of the end.

 

“What do we do now, Captain?” Jadzia asked as the Defiant arrived just in time to see the minefield crumble before their very eyes.

 

“Take us into the wormhole.” Benjamin said.

 

 

Notes:

[1] “The Lines of Loyalty” is a partial re-right of the finale of season 5, “A Call to Arms” (DS9:S5:E26). Some dialogue was taken directly from the episode.

Chapter 54: What the Heart Desires

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifty-Four: What the Heart Desires

 

It had taken a full week longer than anticipated to get back to Vulcan extending their time in space to a full month. Eventually the starship they were traveling on was called back to the front lines and Gaven and Cheval had to wait for a new connecting transport on one of the bases situated between Earth and Vulcan. Even with Cheval’s Ambassador status the arrangements took time and because Cheval was taking point in arranging them the men were forced to spend their days on the base apart. Cheval had been able to secure shared accommodations for them on the Star base. The spacious accommodation was practically luxurious compared to what they’d grown accustomed to on their trip.

 

For Gaven these delays meant little to him. In some ways he felt he had stepped out of both time and space where nothing felt within the scope of his control or his understanding and thus nothing seemed to matter. Both knew they couldn’t hope for reliable updates about the status of the war until they arrived on Vulcan, but if rumors were to be believed the Federation had already experienced devastating losses.

 

With nothing to do but wait, the only thing Gaven had left to focus on was the one thing he might never receive closure about.  His feelings for Julian.

 

Gaven had said once that he believed that if they were ever forced to part, his feelings would not diminish but grow. An so they had. Gaven’s sense of devotion to Julian only grew steadily more concrete in his mind. So much so that he suspected even the purging process would not be able to fully anesthetize his powerful feelings.

 

Although he had told Garak as much before he left, Gaven knew now for certain that once his business on Vulcan was concluded he would return to Deep Space Nine or go wherever else he must to find Julian if he was still alive and settle things between them. If he was not? Gaven refused to entertain any such suggestion. His mind could not even process the possibility that Julian might die.

 

If he ever fell, Gaven wanted to believe he would feel it long before it was ever confirmed.

 

Cheval had agreed to meet Gaven at the Tides, one of the expansive base’s open concept restaurants near their accommodations.

 

In order to find them a secure transport, Cheval had been required to reach out to his mother on Vulcan.

 

It had not been a comfortable conversation and it was nearly certain that Sha’el would be having a more extensive conversation with her beloved son once they returned. When Cheval revealed that Gaven would be returning with him Sha’el meet this information with patient knowing.

 

“It is right that he has come. Though it may win you no favor with your betrothed.” Sha’el had said.

 

On his way back to meet Gaven and tell him of their new arrangements, Cheval stopped off at one of the small Vulcan shrines set up on the base for its Vulcan visitors to utilize. It would not do to return to Gaven more distressed than when he left him.

 

While kneeling in the small temple where the shrine sat, Cheval meditated on his last communications with his beloved. They had fought before he left Vulcan and neither had tried to communicate since outside of the occasional messages sent through the filter of his mother. Yet no amount of distance could remove the string of their psychic connection. A connection that was now tainted in T’Yel’s eyes by Gaven.

 

“You want to be with him more than you want to be with me.” T'Yel had accused of him on the night before the morning he had departed for the station.

 

“I have been asked to attend the convoy to Deep Space Nine.” Cheval had reminded her doggedly.

 

“Yes. Asked, Not told. Not ordered. You are not a specialist in the radiation sciences, and you are not acting as an ambassador in this situation no matter what you claim. There is no logic to your attendance to that station. Do not stand there and omit the truth from me.” She had fumed staring at him under the weeping tree of their youth.

 

Cheval leveled his gaze at his beloved and pressed his lips. While he was often labeled as a Vulcan mouse of a man, there was some strength to him. It was a strength that only those he genuinely loved saw demonstrated. “I must go there if I am ever to have any peace. I must break this strange bond that has developed against all our preferences.”

 

“That Oum has bewitched you. Why not allow the priestesses of Vulcan to intervene?” She demanded stubbornly though her resolve was beginning to weaken under her mutual love and concern for him.

 

“I have consulted with my mother. It was at her suggestion that I go and try to sort the matter out myself for all of our sakes.” Cheval revealed.

 

“Why?” T'Yel knew to tread carefully regarding Sha’el.

 

Cheval did not immediately answer her. Perhaps because he did not know the why of it all. Just that his mother was right in encouraging him to seek Gaven out.

 

Though part of the unfavorable order once labeled V’tosh ka’tur, now the group’s teachings were limited to the confines of the Temple of Kar and was respected enough within Vulcan society to be recognized as just another more archaic and thus less relevant paths of Vulcan balance. She’el was the temple’s High Priestess, and though she was discreet about the actual clout she held in their society, her counsel was valued mightily by the Vulcan High Council and her perspective begrudgingly respected among the other purists of Vulcan.

 

“It was not Gaven’s intention to effect either of us, T'Yel.” Cheval slowly approached his beloved taking her hands in his. “He may not be aware of his continued impact, and I am certain that once he is, he will work diligently to help undo it. Gaven Ore-Oum is a good and forthright man. You have seen as much in my memories. If you cannot bring yourself to trust him, then I ask you to trust in me. You are my light. My, K’diwa. Taluhk nash-veh k’dular.”

 

T'Yel allowed him to pull her into his embrace, and though she felt his sincerity and his deep love of her she could also sense the alien attachment he possessed towards Gaven Ore and it infuriated her to no longer feel only him within the interspace of their bond.

 

“Taluhk nash-veh k’dular.” T'Yel whispered the Vulcan saying back to him. The saying that translated meant, I cherish thee.

 

But T'Yel could not bring herself to let things go between them so easily. The psychic awareness of Gaven that she shared through Cheval only with less psychological context felt invasive and disgruntling. Like a thorn rubbing between the folds of her clothes pricking and irritating her endlessly.

 

Finally, she pulled out of his embrace and backed away from him slowly. “I may indeed still be you’re ashelik...Darling, beloved. But I now begin to question if you are my true and rightful T’hy’la. If you leave me now, I will not be held responsible for what might happen when you return.”

 

Cheval inhaled sharply at her choice if words and the threat he heard within them. They had quarreled rarely in their lives and had always avoided hurting each other with their words or actions. But of all the things Cheval might have thought her capable of throwing at him in the rare moments they did argue and fight, her accusation that she was no longer his T’hy’la, a word that meant among other things friend, soulmate, and lover; was almost beyond comprehension. Was she implying that if he left, she might enact the challenge of Koon-ut-kal-fee, breaking their betrothal and possibly inciting his death?

 

“We will speak of this further when I return. If you are unwilling to accept why I must undertake this pilgrimage, then it is something I cannot help. I always trust in your ability to do what is right and honorable between us, and I regret your lack of understanding.” Cheval remarked bluntly, his tone wounded.

 

“you should regret more than that, Jyrrus Cheval.” T'Yel muttered, her composure slipping.

 

“I only regret what I have said and nothing more. Goodbye, T'Yel. I do not know when I will be able to return, but I will return. You have my word.” He stated firmly.

 

“At least I have that much.” T'Yel shrugged spinning away from him to march away back to her transport.

 

These memories were painful for him not only for their content but because in his heart of hearts Jyrrus saw some validity in T’Yel’s accusations. After all this time he could admit to himself that he did harbor a genuine attachment to Gaven that went beyond mere friendship. Despite this, Cheval was firm about the realities of their individual positions. Gaven was in love with Doctor Bashir and Cheval still loved T’Yel and was determined to pursue a life with her provided she would let him. In this pursuit he and Gaven were united above all other things.

 

Jyrrus arrived at the Tides later than they had agreed but he suspected Gaven would still be there waiting. To be sure Cheval entered through the second level to ascertain Gaven’s position down below where the small white tables were spread out to accommodate the privacy of its patrons. There in the very center sat Gaven. A dark ominous speck of black against a pristine white steel and glass backdrop. There was nothing upon his table except a clear tall glass of water. Gaven's mouth was turned down in a thin flat frown and there was a perpetual look of gloom plastered across his face as he stared into the distance at nothing. In all the time Cheval had known Gaven his morose somber expression of wretched heartache was perhaps his most beautiful form of expression to the Vulcan because it mirrored so innately his own lifelong sadness.

 

Eventually as if sensing Cheval’s gaze upon his back Gaven's face turned to the side and met his own eyes in the distance. having been caught out Cheval only nodded and made his way down to meet him at his table.

 

“Well?” Gaven asked softly when Cheval came to stand at his side instead of joining him at his table.

 

“My mother has arranged for a shuttle to pick us up within the next few hours. We will arrive on Vulcan within the next three days.” Jyrrus confirmed.

 

“Sit down. We’re not leaving just yet. Are you ready for this? What’s awaiting you back home?” Gaven inquired.

 

“As much as I can ever be.” He admitted.

 

Gaven sighed and slid the clear tall glass towards him. “Here. Drink the rest of this for me.”

 

Cheval halted the glass and took it up in his grasp taking a long sip before his eyes crinkled. “This is vodka.”

 

“Yes. I know. I thought you might need it. It might as well be water to me.” Gaven quipped.

 

“Is that a medical opinion, Doctor?” Cheval inquired raising the class to his lips once more and drank the rest of its contents down without further reaction.

 

“It is indeed. My friend. Come on. Let’s get back to our quarters and pack. I hope you gave your mother my best wishes.” Gaven said clapping Jyrrus on the shoulder.

 

“I think she would rather that you tell her yourself.” He replied.

 

~@~

 

On the third day, just at the peak of sunset Jyrrus Cheval maneuvered the barrowed shuttle into its landing configuration on the outskirts of Mount Seleya. It was here that the smaller mountain temple of Kar was situated and where Jyrrus had been raised and his mother Sha’el had been born and continued to reside.

 

At dusk, the entire landscape was kissed with a red orange hue.

 

Cheval had changed into his white diplomatic robes. Out of respect and in reference to his friendship with Cheval, Gaven was dressed in a loose-fitting white tunic and coverlet of burnt orange that was reminiscent of the traditional outfits worn by diplomatic aides. The garb also came in a wine tone that Cheval privately thought was a more becoming color for Gaven but they made do with what had been realistically obtainable will on the Star base.

 

They were met on the tarmac by Sha’el personally. Flanked by two of her young acolytes, all were dressed similarly to Jyrrus.

 

“My son.” The middle aged Sha’el said upon approaching Jyrrus and giving him the Vulcan sign of greeting.” Your presence has been in much want. May you live long and prosper.”

 

Sha’el then turned slowly to Gaven. Amusement splayed frankly across her features when she saw his human like appearance. “Greetings Gaven Ore-Oum. It is of no surprise to me that you have returned to us.”

 

“My Lady.” Gaven inclined in head deeply in respect. “I am pleased to see you Sha’el.”

 

“I should think you expected never to see me again, Gaven Ore-Oum. I am pleased to see you were mistaken. May you live long and prosper.” She remarked.

 

With these formalities concluded she slowly turned and began to walk towards the carved path leading back towards the obsidian accented temple.

 

At her remark Gaven raised his head and quirked a smile. She had meant for her remark to be taken as a motherly quip. As with her son, Sha’el was not a typical kind of Vulcan. Gaven knew her to be both cunning and quietly mirthful.

 

 Once they were situated in the higher rooms of the temple that served as Sha’el’s private home, her acolytes were dismissed to tend to their main duties in the lower level and most of her formal pretense as a High Priestess was dropped. Now she was only a concerned mother tending to family matters.

 

“It might have been helpful for the two of you to return much sooner than this. But given the general political climate of the Alpha Quadrant I should be satisfied that you have retuned at all.” Sha-el said as she passed over a tray of small refreshments which included cups of her famous Jasmine tea.

 

“Have you received any word from anyone from Starfleet or specifically from Deep Space Nine?” Gaven inquired. He had encouraged the Captain to send all prudent correspondence in care of Sha’el before he’d left.

 

“No. I have not. But the station you refer to is a long way off and it is possible any messages that were sent have either not arrived yet or been lost in transit. War is upon us all. Casualty reports arrive daily from across the front lines. Countless ships lost. I sense great unrest and turmoil at every turn. My suggestion to you is to focus on the immediate problems at hand.”

 

“Does T’Yel know that I have returned?” Jyrrus asked.

 

“She does. I have arranged for her to be present in the lower valley tomorrow so that you may attempt to plead your case with her, Jyrrus. She has agreed to meet you. I suspect you will only have one chance with her.”

 

Gaven shifted uncomfortably. “Is it your belief Sha’el that T’Yel is serious about her ultimatum?”

 

Sha’el’s gaze transferred to Gaven. “I believe where matters of the heart are concerned, not even my people’s devotion to logic is always strong enough to override love’s irrational impulses. T’yel comes from one of the old families as do we, and the old families almost always observe the traditional marriage rites. This interference in their Katra connection is a justified betrayal no matter how it came about, at least from T’Yel’s perspective.”

 

“Katra.” It was the first time Gaven had heard the word referenced.

 

“The living spirit. It has become commonly accepted that all Vulcans carry a Katra. Some might refer to it as our souls. Although we have not always been able to trace and measure its existence, it is the essence of the Vulcan mind. Our histories, our memories, our experiences and knowledge. When we mate-bond our children, we do so to ensure they will always be known to another. It is no longer a universal cultural practice. We Vulcans live long and as our awareness of life beyond us has expanded we have embraced more choice in the pursuit of our destinies.” Sha’el explained.

 

“More choice? I see. Your people have adopted the perspective that binding children together for more than a century without their free choice could perhaps become problematic. What does a child of ten or twelve know of compatibility? I notice you did not reject this archaic practice and now here we are.” Gaven’s scrutiny was obvious.

 

Sha’el inclined her head. “I did what was logical to protect my son.”

 

“Protect him? From what?” Gaven didn’t understand.

 

“Do you know what this humble temple signifies?” Sha’el asked. “In the time of my father’s youth it was one of a handful of strongholds for the followers of V’tosh ka’tur. Vulcan’s without logic. In the twenty-second century, the small diverging population of Vulcans who followed in this philosophy were considered outcasts and, in some cases, renegades. Even terrorists. The movement was largely snuffed out in time. It was the belief of these followers that emotion was meant to work in balance with logic, not suppressed by it. They interpreted the limited translations of Surak’s teachings to support their conclusions. When the Kir’Shara was eventually rediscovered and the true and full teachings of Surak known, the concept of balance between emotion and logic was rendered unnecessary and the movement was recognized as a divergent path to enlightenment rather than a threat to those aspiring to a purely logical existence.”

 

“You’re a follower of the V’tosh ka ‘tur.” Gaven surmised. “This temple remains as it has always been, and you are its high priestess. You continue to cultivate the tradition openly and however benign the Vulcan government’s acknowledgement of your practices, they still put you and your family at odds with contemporary Vulcan ideals. You knew this would isolate your son in Vulcan society so you aspired to bind his Katra with another so that he would never really be alone.”

 

Gaven then turned towards Jyrrus in speculation. “Do you fallow your mother’s ways?”

 

“I am fully Vulcan and was educated in the contemporary style. I have always…Aspired, to observe and respect the social conventions of my people, but I cannot and will not deny the influences of my upbringing and while I defer to logic over all other things, I do not discount the existence and value of my emotions.” Jyrrus replied carefully.

 

“A truly diplomatic answer.” Gaven muttered. “What logic was there behind pairing them?”

 

“T’Yel and I were friends from our cradles. We asked that we be paired.” Jyrrus supplied.

 

“They were inseparable even as children. T’Yel was orphaned from a fever epidemic. Her parents where explorers and scientists born to a small band of Vulcans who were born to the surviving followers of the Galactic Army of Light founded by my father Sybok a blood prince of the realm. Their organization was admittedly misguided. My father sought the fabled Vulcan Paradise and when he thought he found it, he discovered nothing more than an alien superconscious attempting to escape some grand punishment. He was ultimately destroyed and his Katra lost. I never knew my father.”

 

“A prince of the realm. You’re Vulcan royalty?”

 

“Only by lineage. I do not own it as my identity.” Jyrrus dismissively said.

 

“You will find that most diplomats on Vulcan can trace their family lineages to one of the great feudal houses.” Sha’el noted.

“Of course. Why not?” Gaven muttered rhetorically. “Let’s get back to the issue at hand. Now that I’ve come back with Jyrrus, what can I do to help things along? While I understand our problem has something to do with our individual psychic predispositions, I don’t understand what undoing it would entail.”

 

“It is difficult to determine what might be done,” Sha’el began.

 

To this reply Gaven scoffed in disbelief and cut her off. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t know what to do about it? Why am I here if there isn’t a…Plan? Jyrrus.”

 

“It is logical that there are two options before us. The first would be to undo our psychic entanglement, though what that would entail, I admit I do not know.” Jyrrus replied.

 

“And the other option is…What?” Gaven was growing impatient with the mystery of their situation.

 

“Ehm. If we cannot break the psychic bond that you and I share we could attempt to convince T’Yel to accept it.” This second option was said much more quietly.

 

Gaven left out a huff of breath and cradled his face in is palm. After a few deep inhales and some intelligible muttering, he finally sat back up and pulled his hands away in frustration.  “I can’t believe this. You’re tell me that our options are to either fix this or attempt to get a hostile Vulcan bride to accept that her soul mate and lover of whom she always believed was meant to be bonded to her alone is now supposed to share you? No. There has to be another way.”

 

He turned to address Sha’el and caught her watching their exchange with acute interest.

 

“Sha’el,” Gaven began, slowly trying to feel out the right question to ask.

 

“Tell me something.” It was Sha’el’s turn to cut Gaven off. “When you sense my son, when you both spill the cups of your minds, do you sense T’yel as well?”

 

“No.” Gaven replied. “I only know anything of her through the filter of Jyrrus memories and his expressed and present feelings for her. I have never felt her presence or influence for myself.”

Sha’el nodded then expectantly looked at her son.

 

Jyrrus was just as careful with his words as Gaven was. “T’Yel’s presence is ever with me even though she attempts to remain distant.”

 

“Do you see the disruption now?” Sha’el asked. “Your experiences of your connections are all different. For you Gaven Ore-Oum you sense my son only when he is within a certain proximity, wide as it may be, and you sense T’Yel not at all within your link. Jyrrus experiences you both equally within his mind. You and she call to him even worlds away with the intensity of your feelings. All the while T’Yel has told me she feels you Gaven within her mind though she cannot identify your intentions or your sensitivities for herself. You are as faceless and voiceless to her as a shadow and yet she cannot escape you or drive you from her mind. I believe my son to be the common link between you all. I suspect it is only he who has the power to break your entanglement, but I suspect he must be willing to do so in full.”

 

Gaven’s mouth set in a flat line as he looked from mother to son.

 

For Jyruss’s part he would not meet Gaven’s eyes and once again an unspoken understanding passed between them.

 

Gavan’s mind repeated Sha’el’s words in awful clarity within his recall.

 

I believe where matters of the heart are concerned, not even my people’s devotion to logic is always strong enough to override love’s irrational impulses.

 

After everything they’d promised each other and everything they’d been doing to prepare for this trip, Gaven struggled to contend with the possibility that on some level Jyrrus hadn’t been able to dissolve their connection because no matter what he claimed a part of him didn’t want to.

 

Eventually Gaven fruitlessly sighed. “The night gains. I think it wise we all retire and revisit this business in the morning. Sha’el I ask that you exert your wisdom to further guide us in this matter. I by no mean expect you to fix it for us but if there is anything even theoretically plausible to try, we need to do it. There’s too much uncertainty in all of this. We need to narrow down our options. I trust you have placed me in the old accommodation of my last stay. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to retire for the night and think about things. Or not think about them if that proves more prudent.”

 

Sha’el inclined her chin in acknowledgement of his assumptions. “Be at liberty in this place, Gaven Ore-Oum. It is a home as much as it is a holy place. Search out what peace you may and leave the rest. Your things are where you would expect them to be.”

 

Gaven stood slowly and gave a curt head bob to both. “Good night.”

 

He then turned away and silently fled to the far reaches of the house.

 

“Jyrrus.” Sha’el said, demanding her son’s attention in the wake of Gaven’s departure. “Tread carefully in all of this. One misstep will seal you’re doom.”

 

“I know, mother. It is not always possible to control what one feels.” Jyrrus replied weakly.

 

“Even so. For now, you can control what you say and do. Weigh carefully what the outcome of your words and actions are worth to you.” She urged.

 

“I will try.” He conceded.

 

The time of choice was growing short.

 

Chapter 55: Almost Like Home

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifty-Five: Almost Like Home

 

Gaven had not spent much time in the temple of Kar the last time he'd been on Vulcan, but even without the use of his eidetic memory he knew his way through the private corridors and rooms of Jyrrus and Sha'el's family home well. The temple had been literally carved into the rock face causing the light sources of the back walls and rooms to reflect hues of yellow, orange, and red under the old-fashioned oil brasiers that helped to provide light and warmth where it was needed. The natural stone walls were sealed, and the floors were polished and glossy with accent beams of obsidian.

 

After being so long in space Gaven found the feeling of the temple, its rooted solid presence of space to be comforting in its retiring simplicity and natural grandeur. The room he was assigned were nearly as good as complete living quarters though there was no kitchenette to speak of. Still light cooking could be accomplished at the table with a portable burner and there was a small fireplace to the right side of the room where one could set a pot to boil. Vulcan’s were largely vegetarian so it wasn’t difficult to keep dry stores of edibles or baskets of fresh produce in the space that could be taken daily from the hydroponics gardens hidden deeper in the caverns of the temple proper. The open room was broken up into functional spaces by stone arches and black petrified timbers that had been likely imported from off world at great expense. Gaven liked how they glittered faintly when the light caught bits of the dried resin that were captured within the timbers.

 

There were no windows but there was a connecting corridor that led out onto an expansive balcony. The very balcony he had once been abducted from and eventually returned to by the grace of his interrogator. Gaven had not forgotten but by now he bore no lasting grudge. The temple was light on many technological conveniences and because of its isolation and unique architecture it was not an ideal location to practically attack. The temple held no significant value outside of the ideas it represented.

 

Upon entering the space Gaven found his bags had been neatly set upon the thick wide rectangular table in the center of the middle space. A sleeping area was set off to the left more deeply imbedded into the altered cavern. Small, simple, but pristine. To the right was a sitting area of a few padded chairs and a couch.

 

Plucking up his bags he carried them to the sleeping area and piled them onto the chair that was set near the bed in the sleeping nook. The lights in this part of the room were mechanical and their intensity could be altered by voice command. Storage alcoves flanked the wall on either side of the bed and there was a long narrow dresser near the chair along the right side of the nook.

 

Gaven sighed.

 

He then sank down onto the familiar bed shut his eyes a allowed a feeling of seclusion and safety to slowly saturate him. These accommodations had represented the first real asylum Gaven had known upon leaving his homeworld. Despite all the trouble they were still facing, he felt a sense of relief ebb through him as a kind of settled strength of spirit and mind began to nest itself in his chest and solar plexus.

 

Although comforting the feeling also reinforced a simple truth. Deep Space Nine would never feel like a home. He had known it all along and communicated it enough times to others, but now sitting in this place that had served as a generational home for so many others both living and dead, he felt the truth absolutely.

 

You need to leave, Gaven…Maybe you shouldn’t come back…You know what I’m telling you is true.

 

Julian’s words repeated in his mind but Gaven pushed them away. The things that had been said between them, however true they may have been, had not been for Julian to decide for him.

 

That much was also true.

 

In the morning he would try to send word to the front lines informing the Captain and his other friends that he had arrived safely on Vulcan. He was desperate for news of all their well being and the fact that he wasn’t out there with them still clawed at his conscience. But Garak was right. He couldn’t start helping others until he finished helping himself and the matter that he was currently dealing with were prominent on his agenda to be resolved.

 

~@~

 

The next morning Gaven met with Sha'el to post his message. Jyrrus was nowhere to be found. Presumably, he was away preparing for his rendezvous with T’Yel. 

 

"I have consulted with my colleagues this morning regarding the link you share with my son. We believe it is possible that we may be able to assist in your psychic separation." She began, as she accepted his message in her sitting room that was situated off the great room of the lower temple.

He noted that she lingered keeping him in her grasp.

 

"I sense you have come a long way since last we met, Gaven Ore-Oum. You have much improved upon yourself." She remarked, finally letting him go.

 

Gaven dipped his head respectfully but did not immediately reply. 

 

Instead, he moved to the red stoned side wall and leaned into it as if he hoped the rock itself might partially swallow him.

 

"I have seen more than I ever imagined could exist." He said at length.

 

Sha'el nodded compassionately. She was dressed in a gauzy wimple of transparent lavender this morning and her priestess robes. Still middle aged by Vulcan standards and on the younger side at that with Jyrrus just exiting his Vulcan adolescence, she was formidable to stand in the presence of.

 

"Are you satisfied with the extent of what you have seen and done?" She inquired.

 

This felt like a strange question to Gaven. But the way she asked, told him she was entirely serious and attempting to assess something.

 

He took his time considering the question.

 

"No." He replied. 

 

It was an unexpected realization on his part. Gaven was not satisfied. The very fact that he could not take Julian's insistence that he permanently stay away from him and from the conflict that was gripping the quadrant seriously proved it.

 

"I have no place in this galaxy. No truly binding ties. But I feel now that I con reconcile with that. I used to think having a sense of place, of purpose, was the entire point of living. But now I’m beginning to think they are only means and methods of life." He explained.

 

"So, in other words you are saying that though you have come far, you have not come far enough to conclude anything about who you want to be. I understand." Sha'el replied, nodding slowly.

 

Perhaps she did understand, Gaven conceded. Sha'el had always been gracious to him. She was in many respects the most compassionate person he'd yet met as well as one of the more perceptive. She was not the high priestess of Kar for show, Sha'el really did follow and exemplify the Vulcan balance point between logic and emotion.

 

As Gaven remained leaning with his palms pressed flat against the stone behind him, Cheval finally returned from wherever he had gone that morning.

 

While the Vulcan had a natural predisposition for soft despondency, the look on his face was cast now in a firm grimace that suggested that whatever he had been doing had not gone off well.

 

"Mother." Jyrrus gave her a stiff bow. "Have the things we've discussed been settled?"

 

Jyrrus had not yet acknowledged Gaven, in fact he seemed to be doing his best to ignore the fact that Gaven was present at all.

 

Gaven noted this. He sensed that Jyrrus was putting something up between them. Ever since their conversation the pervious night it was as if the Vulcan was doing his level best to pretend that he had no feelings at all.

 

This strange evasiveness told Gaven something was wrong.

 

"Yes. I have reached out to the priests of Seleya. They have agreed to examine your situation and aid where they might."  Sha'el confirmed.

 

"What have they determined must be done?" Jyrrus asked.

 

"Wuh ho-rah t'v'ree'lat. The ritual of sorting. With it we will attempt to dislodge you from each other's minds. But it is difficult. Especially given our limited experience with the Oum in relation to our own kind. We do not know the extent of the risk you might be undertaking." She explained.

 

"When can we begin?" Jyrrus pressed.

 

"This evening if you both wish it." She replied.

 

Jyrrus nodded and turned away abruptly intending to leave the way he'd come.

 

"Jyrrus. Wait." Gaven demanded, promptly pushing off the wall with some alarm in pursuit of him.

 

He caught up to the Vulcan in the corridor and took him by the upper arm ushering Jyrrus to the side. "What is wrong? You’ve been avoiding me all day."

 

Jyrrus pressed his lips in a grime flat line and kept his face in profile.

 

"My attempts at reconciliation were not well met." Jyrrus muttered, avoiding Gaven’s accusation.

 

Gaven squinted in confusion as to why Jyrrus seemed reluctant to look at him straight on. Reaching in a doctoring fashion to grip his friend's chin with his other hand.

 

Jyrrus reluctantly allowed his examination.

 

Gaven didn't understand his attitude until he saw what Jyrrus had been keeping in shadow. There was a decidedly hand sized splash of color plastered across the left side of his face. His cheekbone was just beginning to form a tiny bluish bruise.

 

"She hit you?" Disbelief at such an illogical loss of emotional control was evident on his face. 

 

"She was distraught, and I provoked her. T’Yel is a passionate and determined woman. It has always been my belief that the women of the Vulcan species hold truer to our ancestral natures than the men do."  Jyrrus speculated. "She did not intend to hurt me."

 

Gaven set his jaw briefly tracing along the edges of Jyrrus eye socket before he dropped his hands and stepped back from him. "This is getting out of hand. I know she’s your chosen partner, but instead of being angry with you or I she could try helping us navigate the intricacies of this situation."

 

Gaven's eyes narrowed as he continued to examine Jyrrus. "She certainly should not have struck you. There is no excuse for that."

 

Gaven's tone was so firm that Jyrrus knew better than to disagree with him. 

 

"She does not understand." Jyrrus replied, almost apologetically. 

 

He suspected that T’Yel’s lack of understanding was not limited only to her. Gaven didn't understand him either or the unspoken things that hung between them. But deep in his bones Jyrrus did and had been ineffective on all fronts to articulate himself these last months and confront or resolve them.

 

"Then we must work harder to help her understand." Gaven said decisively. "Where is T’Yel now?" 

 

"Still down in the valley. I have told her of our intentions and asked that she be there as a witness." He replied.

 

Gaven scowled. "You want her to see that you're trying. I understand. And if this ritual doesn't work, then what?"

 

"I do not know." Jyrrus admitted. 

 

"I would like to speak with her." Gaven said. "If my consciousness haunts her as Sha'el has suggested then I must attempt to make amends. She doesn't know me. She hasn't experienced my character firsthand. Perhaps it's time that she did. If something goes wrong tonight, I want her to know that my intentions were and have always been honorable."

 

For a moment Jyrrus looked as if he wanted to protest. The thought of Gaven and T’Yel coming face to face for any reason felt dangerous to the overwhelmed Vulcan. But in the end, he said nothing because he knew that anything, he tried to say to dissuade him would only fuel Gaven's resolve to engage. 

 

Jyrrus could sense Gaven's steady protectiveness of him. Jyrrus saw how it had shocked him to realize Jyrrus and T’Yel had entertained a physical confrontation. But if he had better understand the reasoning behind it, Gaven might not have found T’Yel’s rection to be entirely unwarranted.

 

“There is a salt lake down in the valley and beyond it a narrow canyon. She must pass through it to return to the mouth of the tunnel system on that side. If you intend to seek her, you might wait for her at the mouth of the tunnels. Although I would prefer that you wait and see her in the temple proper.” Jyrrus requested.

 

Clearly to Gaven, Jyrrus would have preferred they confront each other where unobtrusive eyes could monitor them. Gaven had no intention of doing this, however. If he were going to meet with T’Yel uninvited he was going to do it out in the open and where they could stand on equal ground. Gaven was not her enemy. His entire purposes for coming back to Vulcan was to support her as much as Jyrrus.

 

Gaven simply have one simple nod of acknowledgement and stepped back from him.

 

For a moment Jyrrus looked as if he might walk away but instead, he abruptly gripped Gaven by the left shoulder with his right hand. “I...Ask that you be careful…with your actions and moderate in your choice of words. T’Yel is…Justified in her fear of you.”

 

At this remark Jyrrus forced his gaze off Gaven and walked away from him, this time altering his direction to veer back in the direction of his mother. He did not look back.

 

Gaven made flat sound in the back of his throat as he watched Jyrrus until he disappeared. A grimace was set on his mouth as his mind worked to process what Jyrrus had said. All this time Gaven had been working under the assumption that he was coming to Vulcan to somehow reassure everyone of his position and intentions. It never occurred to him that he might be there to stand in his own defense. From everything that he’d been told since his arrival T’Yel didn’t just disapprove of his influence and presence, she was directly and according to Jyrrus justifiably, threatened by him.

 

Why? Gaven stained to understand.

 

It couldn’t merely be because she registered him as some vague boogeyman on the edges of her consciousness. Though it was concerning to him that despite their great distance she had felt him so profoundly and disruptively through her connection to Jyrrus. There was something missing in all this business. Something that Gaven wasn’t being told. Whatever it was the information seemed evident to just about everyone else around him.

 

Frustrated, Gaven stomped back to his chamber.

 

While he absolutely intended to meet T’Yel before they did anything else, he needed time to think about everything first. Needing to do something repetitive and practical to calm himself, Gaven decided to take some time to unpack his things. When he’d found out he was expected to evacuate along with the other citizens of the station, he’d done what Julian had told him to do. He’d packed all his belongings. It had been such an easy thing to gather everything in his quarters up and as he unpacked them now it occurred to him that nearly everything he had with him had been given to him by other people.

 

There was the preserved flower Jyrrus had given him when he’d come back from his trip to Bajor. The clothes that Garak had technically made for him on request but that had almost felt like a gift when he’d been fitted for them. There was the universal watch that Fisk had given him as well as the unopened and decorative jar of hot fudge that Quark had insisted, he take once after a heart to heart in his bar. He even had his medical bag which Julian had presented to him during his first day working in the infirmary. This item, Gaven set out upon the char nears his bed. As if it could stand in for Julian’s presence somehow.

 

There were other simpler items as well. Small mementos that other friends and acquaintances had given him out of kindness and appreciation. A drawing from Molly O’Brien. A thank you note and a set of Klingon Opera rods from Worf and Jadzia. A series of novels Jake had lent him to read to Julian when he’d been in his coma. A deck of baseball themed playing cards that Benjamin had once used to illustrate the fundamentals of the game of Baseball. Finally, there was the memory projection and meditation crystals that Sha’el had given him of his Bondmate before he’d left for Deep Space Nine. Everything he had in the universe had been given to him by all the people his life had touched since being out in space.

 

One by one he set them in there most logical places mostly near his bed. When he was done, he stepped back from the alcove to survey the space. Satisfied with its neat though decidedly occupied appearance. Here in his chambers, they almost seemed as if they had always been there. Gaven reflected how similar being here felt to being back on Oum. It wasn’t that Mount Seleya particularly reminded him of his homeworld or the place he had built with Lopel, it was that the room itself as well as the extended temple and living chambers and corridors beyond it felt decidedly like a home should to him. It was both settled and alive in a way that the unremarkable monotone walls and standardized furniture of his quarters on Deep Space Nine never had.

 

Gaven sighed deeply at the thought and walked back into the alcove. He then sunk down onto his bed cupping his face in his hands. How could he possibly be a threat to anyone here? Gaven could accept anyone not liking him or understanding him. But fearing him? Seeing him as an enemy to be overcome?

 

“What are you afraid of T’Yel? “ He asked aloud. “What have I taken from you and what has Jyrrus dome to so completely offend you?”

 

Gaven needed answers and it was time that he got them directly from their source.

 

~@~

 

The prefix of T’Yel’s name meant star.

 

 To many around her the name was apt for describing the aloof and beautiful nature of its owner. But for T’Yel, privately her name served only to remind her of the cold isolation of the distant lights in the night sky that were so clearly visible over mount Seleyna. The stars felt like a million mirrors echoing her own singularness. Unlike Jyrrus who had been sent away to be educated in the normal courses of modern Vulcan society, T’Yel had been born and raised on and around Mount Seleya and had been brought up and formally educated as a temple maiden where she was taught all the fundamentals of a Vulcan education but was primary groomed for a life of solitary mysticism.

 

 

These two locations, the Temple of Kar and the Hall of Ancient Thought were not to be confused with each other as the Temple of Kar which had been rebuilt and renamed out of the ruins of the T’karath Sanctuary was roughly located thirty-seven kellicams or two kilometers south of the Hall of Ancient Thought. The original sanctuary had been all but destroyed in the period of the 2150’s but had later ben reclaimed as the original stronghold of the followers of the V’tosh ka ‘tur.

 

She’d been only two when her parents had died and per their wishes had been dedicated unto the acolytes of Kar and taken specifically under the wing of Sha’el who had raised her with a motherly eye but with a removed hand. For perspective, Sha’el had sent T’Yel to be trained in the Hall of Ancient Thought instead of in the Temple of Kar itself. Although the temple was thought of as her general home. Like a small handful of other children harbored by both the smaller temple of Kar and the grander Hall of Ancient Thought that was governed by the Vulcan High Command and the High Priests and Priestesses who oversaw its continued care, upon reaching maturity T’Yel was given free choice to assume what path she might and had opted for an isolated life on her own in the valley below though she was known to prefer to serve the Temple of Kar when there was need of her.

 

It had always seemed logical that she be bound to Sha’el’s household. Sha’el had been the closest thing to a mother T’Yel had ever known and even before they had been betrothed as children, Jyrrus and T’Yel had always understood each other and found acceptance and belonging in each other’s company that they were not afforded elsewhere.

 

Their bond had always been destined to be a love match born out of the purest seeds of childhood friendship and mutual reverence.

 

But now everything hung precariously on its edge.

 

An interloper had entered their private world. It was an influence so strong that T’Yel felt powerless and insignificant in comparison. It wasn’t that this influence was superior to her own. The problem was that it was ever present and entirely unmovable. No matter how hard she tried she could not drive it out of her awareness. But the worst part of it all was that it was not like Jyrrus’ presence within her mind which was always three dimensional, vivid, and mutually experienced. This presence had no concrete form she could detect and hounded her on the edges of her awareness like a shadow. A pulsing shadow of emotions she did not understand or want to be exposed to. The presence pulsed and twisted but did not reveal itself to her nor take notice of her own consciousness in relation to its own.

 

Jyrrus was a different matter, however.

 

T’Yel could sense how the presence distracted and attracted him. How it pulled at him and compelled Jyrrus to engage it time and again. As the invasive presence pulled him closer to its source, T’Yel could feel Jyrrus slip farther away from her. She could feel him set up roadblocks and psychic walls where there had never been any before. Until this presence had come into their connection Jyrrus had never barred her from any part of him. It was all so bewildering, so maddening, and so completely infuriating.

Until she had finally confronted Jyrrus and begun putting up walls of her own against him.

 

“You want to be with him more than you want to be with me.” T'Yel had accused of him on the night before the morning he had departed for the station.

 

The memory of their last exchange was still fresh in her mind as she aimlessly jogged through the canyon’s many twisting paths.

 

The hurt of the original realization had returned full force now that she had seen for herself the truth of things within Jyrrus experiences and feelings.

 

She had begrudgingly believed Jyrrus when he had originally defended Gaven. It had been true that Gaven had been unaware of their enduring psychic entanglement, she had witnessed as much in Jyrrus memories. But no matter what she now knew to be true and had seen, Jyrrus’ delay in returning to Vulcan had been foreboding. She had wanted to believe he would come back almost immediately. If Jyrrus had, T’Yel would have forgiven him completely. She would have accepted that Jyrrus really loved her and that his trip really had only been to fulfill the singular purpose of informing Gaven of their situation. She may have even accepted Gaven as an innocent bystander in it all like the rest of them were. But instead Jyrrus had lingered and had made no attempt to provide an adequate explanation as to why.

 

T’Yel felt her anger begin to flare up once more and in response she forced herself to run harder, faster, and with more purpose.

 

Jyrrus had not even told her he had returned. Not that he needed to in words. She had known it immediately and waited as patiently as she could for him to summon her. But when the message had come through T’Yel discovered it hadn’t been sent by Jyrrus personally but by Sha’el requesting that she rendezvous with him in the valley.

 

Had it been him instead of his mother making the request, T’Yel still would have whole heartedly forgiven him.

 

But he had not done this either.

 

T’Yel had of course agreed to the rendezvous.  No matter how confused or angry she was she could not bring herself to deny or recant her unflinching love for him. His return should have been glorious. It should have been bliss. Yet when she had come upon him at the prescribed place and time, he had looked upon her with disturbing reticence.

 

How she had wanted to embrace him. To feel him crush her to him and console her with feverish apology and pronouncement of is undying devotion in the way that Vulcan expressed such things. Instead, he had met her with sullen determination. This had forced her to slow her approach and assume a placid face of her own before she squared her shoulders and evenly asked him what she already knew the answer to.

 

“Is it over?”

 

Jyrrus stared at her miserably as she asked. “No. I did not have the power to severe our link.”

 

At this statement T’Yel had wildly wondered which “link” Jyrrus was referring to. His link with Gaven or their own?

 

“What have you done?” T’Yel whispered, talking a few small steps towards him.

 

Jyrrus hesitated.

 

“He is here. You brought him back to Vulcan. I can feel him.” She nearly hissed.

 

“I had no choice.” Jyrrus said flatly. “This has all become far more complex than I ever intended it to be. T’Yel we did not know what else to do. I did not know what else to do other than return to you and to Vulcan together.”

 

“You have not returned to me. You are farther away from me than ever. It does not take our bond for me to see that.” She accused. “What is his power over you?”

 

Jyrrus looked as if he wanted to say that he didn’t know but was promptly cut off in mid thought.

 

“Do not hide from me!” She shrieked as tears began to well and escape her lids. “You have shut me out for months. Do not do it to my face.”

 

Finally, Jyrrus pulled her into a supportive embrace.

 

But T’Yel was not ready to succumb to him or their love for each other which hung potently between them.

 

“If you do not have the words than open your mind to me.” She warbled into his ear as she began to trace her thumb and pointer down the side of his face and press the right pressure point to open their minds.

 

She could feel him try to recoil from her and she tightened her hold around his waist. Her fingers pressing harder into his form. Demanding that he join with her. “Open your mind to me. What you have known, I will know.”

 

Jyrrus seemed to resist her at first, but eventually like the seduction of an old lover’s renewed kiss he eventually gave in and sank purely into the well of their shared awareness without restraint.

 

It was only then that she knew all, saw all, and felt all that he had known, seen, and felt during his time apart from her.

 

“No.” She breathed into his ear.

 

Jyrrus felt T’Yel briefly go limp in his arms forcing him to hold both upright.

 

“This cannot be.” She sighed.

 

Slowly they began to come out of the mind meld but not before pain, horrible piercing pain blossomed like a time-lapse rose bud within both their awareness.

 

As he came back into conscious awareness, he saw T’Yel’s eyes aflame with betrayal and then felt her drop her hands to his shoulders and slowly sink her nails into his flesh.

 

“How can you do this to us?” her tone was breathy with disbelief.

 

“T’Yel.” He called softly.

 

Slowly she pushed herself out of his embrace. Her lips forming a questioning “O” as her logical mind struggled to turn over.

 

Had Jyrrus been wise he would have taken her nails digging into his shoulders as a preemptive warning.

 

His attention however was transfixed by here wide-eyed expression of utter shock.

 

He never saw her pry her right hand from him and extend it back. Nor did he quite process what had hit him when she swung her open hand through the air with all her weight and might to connect with the hollow of his cheek. The sound of the slap was so sharp that it seemed almost to echo around them and Jyrrus was full knocked to the ground by the force of her blow which was not only physical but emotional as well.

 

Grasping at her aching wrist with her other hand T’Yel half growled and half shrieked in a mixture of pain, anger, and grief as she dragged herself away from him and disappeared into the canyon’s depths leaving Cheval sprawled on the craggy ground clutching at his face as his entire world shattered around him.

 

Chapter 56: Reckonings and Repercussions

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifty-Six: Reckonings and Repercussions

 

Gaven's plan was simple. Since he suspected T'Yel would not come to him on her own accord, he knew if he wanted the chance to speak with her, he would have to force them to cross paths. Gaven was not so foolish as to try and find T'Yel out among the valley or surrounding canyon. Even with his perfect recall he was not confident he could avoid getting lost out in the open. He was certain though that T'Yel would come to the ritual because Jyrrus had asked her to be there and Gaven knew deep down her love for him would not permit her to remain aloof during such a precarious procedure. But of course, he needed to speak to her before they followed through with their intentions to have the priests of Mount Selenya intervene on Gaven and Jyrrus's behalf. So Gaven surmised, his one good chance would be to catch her at the cavern mouth as she entered through the long back way into the temple.  He wagered she'd have a much harder time ignoring him there. As to what he planned to say to her when they met for the first time in person, he hadn't any idea.

 

T'Yel continued her run through the canyon. Physical exertion was her preferred way to cope when thinking logically wasn't possible and embracing her deeper emotions was unwise. In the time Gaven had been on planet with Jyrrus, her vague awareness of his physical presence plagued her to no end. She would have like to have been able to complain of night terrors, but the truth of the matter was that it was when she was fully awake that she felt him the most intrusively. The fact that she could not seem to escape Gaven frustrated her considerably. T'Yel had always prided herself on her demure sensibilities and practical self-control. But lately everything she normally approved of in herself was overshadowed by the passionate nature of her feelings. Anger was the flavor today. When she'd connected fully with Jyrrus what she had found within him had been shocking and alien to her. It wasn't so much that Jyrrus had radically changed, rather it had been startling to know the changes that were actively manifesting within him were not because of her influence. This realization had cut her deeply because Jyrrus was supposed to be her soulmate and as such she believed that if anyone was to have an unprecedented impact upon his nature it would and should have been her. There were other truth's that had been revealed that stung as equally deep but T'Yel could not bring herself to think on them because even though the melding of their minds allowed them to share in Jyrrus’s memories and impressions she still lacked some amount of contextual experience to fully grasp all of it and make it make sense to her.   

 

Frustrated by this T'Yel ran long and hard, pushing her body to its physical limits until her legs threatened to go numb underneath her and her lungs burned in the arid Vulcan climate.

 

Eventually she forced herself to slow and back pedal towards the cavernous back entrance into the Temple of Kar's primary cavernous corridors. The temple keepers always kept water jugs near the canyon entrances since even for an experienced navigator the desert climate was still harsh and often unforgiving. The cavern entrance was also blissfully cooler compared to the outside and T’Yel was eager to be able to shrug off her desert cloak and unwrap the covering that protected her scalp, face and neck from the burn of the sun and wind.  Breathing hard T’Yel easily found the inconspicuous hand cut walkway that led at an incline to the hollowed-out cavern system entrance. Slipping quietly inside, she paced to the first inner chamber that was softly lit and smelled strongly of Jasmine.  Sha’el specially cultivated her Jasmine which was a special variety of her own design that was meant to thrive in the cool low light of the caverns. Their cultivation was the primary reason water jugs were kept in this part of the corridors. But visitors were free to utilize the jugs for their own needs.

 

Ripping off nearly all her head coverings apart from the close fitted hood she wore that was meant to wick heat from her head, T'Yel shook them out to dislodge any loose sand and dirt and plucked up a jug intending to take it to the slow draining obsidian basin in the center of the open space. The idea was to pour the contents of the jug into the basin and either drink from it or use it to cleanse the hands and face. It was a clever set up that inadvertently also allowed one to pay a water tribute in the process. The grey water collected would be drained into aquifers lower down and used and reused for a multitude of life sustaining purposes for the plants and people who dwelled in and round the Temple of Kar. T'Yel got as far as lifting the jug and beginning her initial pour when a shadow moved in her peripheral vision and a superstitious tickle ran up her spine reminding her of the times in her childhood when she would wake up out of a fitful dream she never remembered and fuss for fear that something was lurking in the darkness somewhere. T'Yel immediately set the jug down.

 

"You." She said nearly under her breath recognizing him from Jyrrus’s memories. "I know you are here. Is it not bad enough that you torment me from afar?"

 

Determined to prove she wasn't going to let any specter disrupt her in her tasks, she grunted and lifted the jug up once more. Tipping it, she allowed a cool pristine stream of water to steadily pour into the basin. She then set it aside once more and lowered her face to the pooling water to drink. Once sated, she straightened and let her hands cut into the pool as she cleansed them of the stains of the canyon before she went on to lean once more over the basin to cleanse her tear-streaked face. If someone was really there, be they friend or foe she refused to allow them to catch the visual evidence of her disarray. When she finished with this and straightened, she sensed something move once more. Decidedly this was a humanoid figure and not merely some cruel trick of her subconscious.

 

"I'm sorry to disturb you. But it was my hope that we might speak while we have the opportunity.  This may be the only chance we get. Please, T'Yel. Whatever you might be feeling right now I'm asking that you humor me." Gaven said stepping out of the shadows on her left side.

 

"The specter finally manifests." She said evenly.

 

"I assure you, I'm no ghost." Gaven replied dispassionately. "Not yet anyways. Here. A peace offering."

 

T'Yel saw a white hand towel appear at her elbow out of the corner of her eye but she forced herself to remain staring straight forwards. At first, she told herself she would resist accepting anything from her tormentor, but a part of her was afraid to look upon him. As if doing so would cement him squarely within her reality. Ultimately though, her need to prove she was brave enough to confront him head on if he wished forced her to pluck the towel out of his hand. She made sure to take her time in rubbing her palms dry before she got up the nerve to turn and finally face him for the first time. Frustrated with herself for stalling at all, she hooked her thumb under the base of her close-fitting hood and stretched the material so that she could pull it up over her face and off.

 

"Thank you." She said, as she stiffly turned and gave him a sharp nod of her head.

 

Of anything she expected in response, a sharp huff of breath followed an ever so soft scoffing sound from him caused her to finally look at him straight on as she adjusted the pin keeping her long hair fastened securely up at the back of her head.

 

"What?" She demanded.

 

"I’ve seen glimpses of you in Jyrrus's memory," Gaven began.  "But it's different looking at you in person. You remind me of him. Of Jyrrus. Your eyes are nearly the same shade of blue. I've also never seen a light-haired Vulcan before."

 

Gaven shrugged, not thinking it was wise to say what he was really thinking when she'd finally looked at him.

 

T'Yel was in Gaven's opinion one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Her features were decidedly fair. Fair hair, fair complexion, light strong brilliant eyes, and a generous mouth. Her hair he imagined was quite long when it was down with an ash blonde hue that was not impossible to produce genetically in a Vulcan but was still statistically less common than other tones and textures. Had he been a human he might have described her as almost fae like. But then again Gaven himself had been sometimes described thusly if with a bit more emphasis on his dark curls and oversized eyes that tended to give people a somewhat more intense impression of the same comparison.

 

T'Yel snorted. Indicating that she was clearly unimpressed with his impressions of her.

 

"I wish you had not come all the way down here. There is nothing I want to say to you." She said in a testy manner.

 

"Fine. Then let me say something to you. I’m sorry that I have hurt you and Jyrrus. My sole purpose for being here is to find a way to stop." Gaven said bluntly.

 

"Hurt me? You haunt me. The worst thing you could have possibly done is come here. I do not care to hear your apology. It means nothing to me and can do nothing for me."  She almost crooned the words at him.

 

"Then help me help all of us. I don't know what to do."

 

T'Yel pressed the butt of her hand to her brow. It was taking a great deal of her focus to bar his intense presence from her awareness.

 

"You still do not understand. You do not see what is happening. There is nothing you can do about this because it is not you who is the source of the problem." It killed her to say it out loud when she wanted so badly to be able to blame Gaven for everything they were experiencing. "Allow me to enlighten you. You are not the first being to call out from the depths of the universe in hopes that someone will reply. Jyrrus is just the latest of his bloodline to succumb. His maternal grandfather did the same. In Sybok's case he was seeking the Vulcan promised land. The men of Jyrrus's blood are compelled to seek out alien super consciousness and bind themselves to them. Surek, Sybok, Spock, Jyrrus. They are alike and it has always spelled certain doom. He cannot help himself."

 

She sighed heavily. "You have taken him away from me, but only Jyrrus can choose to bring himself back. It is logical to assume by bringing you here he has all but chosen his fate."

 

"What the Hell are you talking about?" Gaven demanded, coining a curse he'd inadvertently adopted from Julian. "Why is it that I can't get a straight answer from anyone? Hm? All I know is that whatever Jyrrus is experiencing...It's not real. He's being influenced by some sentimental backwash from my...my...vulnerabilities."

 

It wasn't exactly what he wanted to say, but it was the best he could do to try and make sense of it all.

 

"Jyrrus loves you. He is doing everything he is doing for you to prove it. I know what it is to have been bonded heart, mind and soul with another. I also know how easy it is to take that bond for granted and assume it will always be everything to us and do everything for us. But sometimes we must help it along. Disturbing as the thought is, it's possible we are never going to be able to break what we share together. I think Jyrrus has realized this possibility more completely than any of us.  If it comes to that we must find a common way to cope."

 

"I do not want to cope." T'Yel cried. "Your consciousness is like a disease. It infects everything. You pretend that you do not feel him within your mind. You think that just because you can mute your connection together that it is the same as not being connected at all. All our lives we have never kept anything from each other. We have never restricted any part of ourselves from the other until now."

 

"What is he keeping from you?"

 

"Everything that he feels about you." She replied flatly, finally regaining a sense of composure. "He did, at least. Today I have seen all there is to know."

 

Gaven frowned.

 

T’Yel saw Gaven shrink back slowly. Even if she hadn't seen him do it, she would have felt his presence recede in her mind. For the briefest of moments, she felt as if she'd just won some small victory for herself and the feeling embolden her to slowly approach him.

 

"You may tell yourself what you like if it comforts you to do so. But mark me when I say, what he feels for you is very much real to him and you do a disservice to us all for refusing to acknowledge that fact."

 

Gaven pressed his lips. T’Yel was not the first person to imply or blatantly point out that Jyrrus was in love with him or that he harbored feeling for Jyrrus of his own. Julien had certainly suspected it and had gone so far as to mistake the men’s friendship for something more than it was. But neither he nor Jyrrus had ever owned the idea. Jyrrus had never stopped his persistent dedication to the idea of returning to T’Yel. There was no question that he loved her and wanted very badly to join with her in full. So if he harbored other feelings as well Gaven believed without a doubt he would not pursue them. Likewise, Gaven was in love with Julian and in the end, he knew he would have to ride their dynamic out to its logical conclusion.

 

Gaven’s frown deepened.

 

T’Yel turned away from him and walked back towards the obsidian basin placing her hands on its cool rim to help steady herself and ground her mind.

 

 “I could go.” Gaven said flatly after a pregnant silence had settled between them.  “I could leave Vulcan tonight and never return. Jyrrus has done his duty. He has informed me enough that I could distance myself psychically from him indefinitely. In time if we never met again our connection could weaken. You could help him let it go. As for what I have done to you personally…Perhaps if you knew me better my consciousness would not distress you so much. You say I haunt you. You suggest that in your mind I take no concrete form. What if…”

 

“No.” T’Yel cut him off. “You leaving now will not repair the damage that has been done and I do not want to associate with you anymore than I already have. I do not need to see into your mind to know the kind of man you are.”

 

“You have no idea who I am.” Gaven’s patience was beginning to wane and this time it was his turn to take a purposeful step towards her. They were practically nose to nose now. “Whatever happens don’t make an enemy out of me over something that is not my fault. Jyrrus has saved my life a few times over and it is because of him that I am able to live my life at all. I have come back to Vulcan because he asked me to be here, and I will find a way to help him with or without your approval or assistance. Jyrrus has implied you are thinking of renouncing your betrothal to him. If that is what you think you must do then do it. But if anything, you do leads to Jyrrus being unreasonably injured or killed you will deal with me. As pacifistic as I am by nature there are limits even to my emotional constitution. Don’t test me, T’Yel. Neither I nor Jyrrus have anything to prove to you or anyone else. He is my friend, and I will stand by him.”

 

T'Yel nearly growled at him. “Let us hope for all of our sakes that the priests of Vulcan are successful in their endeavors this evening. Jyrrus maybe your friend but he is my partner. Do not interfere further in things you do not understand.”

 

At this final demand T’Yel turned sharply away from him and marched towards the tunnels full of pride, determination, and a desperate anxiety over what she had sworn to herself she would do to save Jyrrus and herself from Gaven if they found themselves left with no other options.

 

Gaven watched her until she fully disappeared and then swore in frustration. Why? Why did they have to make it all so hard? He had come to T’Yel hoping to find an ally and instead he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just made their entire situation worse.

 

~@~

 

“You spoke to her?” Jyrrus asked later that day when Gaven had finally sought him out in his own rooms.

 

“Yes, and it didn’t go well. I have no doubt she’ll appear tonight. She loves you too much not to but…She hates me.” Gaven muttered as he sat at an elegant tiled table in the center of the Jyrrus’s room.

 

The space was almost identical to Gaven’s room but equipped with a small atrium instead of a corridor leading to a balcony.  Jyrrus’s personal spaces were surprisingly cluttered though still relatively dust free. He suspected Sha’el would not have tolerated the room falling into complete neglect.

 

“T’Yel does not hate you.” Jyrrus replied in a dull but certain tone. “I told you she was a determined person, and it pricks at her that she has not found a way to manage a solution for herself.”

 

Gaven noticed a slightly congested sound to Jyruss’s voice and caught how he settled down at the far end of the table instead of beside him. His color though hard to see clearly in the soft light of the room looked off to him.

 

“Jyrrus are you alright?” He asked softly. “You’ve been distant these last several days. I feel almost as if you’ve been avoiding me.”

 

“I am fine, Doctor.” Cheval said irritably, his tone unusual in and of itself.

 

Gaven pursed his lips. In the entirety of their friendship, he had never seen irritability present in the other man. Jyrrus was steady, patient, and self-deprecating by nature. Except when he was being firm for someone else’s sake, Gaven had rarely ever heard Jyrrus raise his voice or be sharp about anything.

 

“Well maybe I should raise the lights a little and have a look at you. If we’re going to be undergoing a psychic ritual later, it’s important that we’re both in optimal health.” Gaven tested.

 

No. That…Is not necessary. I am fine. I have not been sleeping well for obvious reasons as of late and I…Sit DOWN, Doctor.” Without warning Jyrrus banged his fist on the table hard enough to crack one of the tiles.

 

Gaven who had been starting to rise so that he could adjust the oil lamp that hung above them raised his hands in a peace-making gesture and slowly lowered himself back down in his seat.

 

“Hearing about the complexities of your conversation with T’yel is making my head ache.” Jyrrus spontaneously complained with a near growl and he clutched at the back on his neck and pressed his elbows to his ears as if the pressure would relieve it.

 

By now Gaven knew something was wrong. Instead of trying to question him further on instinct Gaven stood and quickly slipped from the room to find Sha’el. Luckily Jyrrus did not try to stop him. He was too distracted by his own discomfort as he groaned and slowly buried his face into the hollow of one elbow and pressed his forehead down against the cool table tabletop.

 

After some effort Gaven found Sha’el conferring with several others in the temples main alter room.

 

“Sha’el.” Gaven didn’t even need to explain that something was amiss.

 

Sha’el instantly excused herself and come directly to him. “What is wrong?”

 

“It’s Jyrrus. Something has come over him. I…” Gaven was temporarily cut off by the sound of quick footsteps coming towards the corridor at what sounded like a brisk jog.

 

It was T’Yel and when she emerged into the room she looked feverish and damp with perspiration. “High mother…”

 

Sha’el caught her as she stumbled with both hands, her eyes going wide in knowing realization. Quickly and with just a few words she summoned her temple acolytes and carefully passed T’Yel off to them. “Take her into the drawing room and lay her down there. Have her drink water but give it to her in small parcels until she is fully revived.”

 

“Should I attend her?” Gaven interjected.

 

“No. Stay here until I say otherwise.” Sha’el said.

 

  She then stepped away from him to quickly say something to the gathered Selenya priests. Whatever she told them, they looked sideling at one another and quickly departed down an adjacent corridor.

 

Turning back to Gaven she approached him. “Come with me. I will explain as we go. This situation has now become acutely time sensitive.”

 

Nodding Gaven fell into step with her as they departed out the way he’d come in. “It seems that Jyrrus has begun his Pon Farr. It is possible that it has been going on for some days now.”

 

“What is that?” Gaven asked, forgetting in his haste that Jyrrus had once mentioned it to him.

 

“It is the Vulcan time of mating. Upon reaching their transition point of sexual immaturity to maturity, Vulcan males undergo their first Pon Farr it then reoccurs on a seven year cycle. It is the reason many Vulcan parents choose to bond their adolescent children. The Pon Farr is an unrelenting deviation from logic. It is an ancient drive that demands fulfillment or certain death.” She explained.

 

“A mating imperative. What are you saying? If this imperative in not fulfilled it will kill him? What is it’s mechanism?” Gaven demanded.

 

“It manifests as a neural chemical imbalance. Beginning in its early stages often with impulsivity, irritability and aggression and eventually a complete departure from rational and logical thought. The condition culminates in the Plak Tow, the Blood Fever.” She translated for him. “If this occurs and the Vulcan is unable to consummate with an available and compatible female he will go mad and die.”

 

“That’s why you bond them. The idea being that if they are psychically bound the male partner will always have a compatible mate theoretically available.” Gaven muttered.

 

He saw the wisdom of the practice now. It was in some ways not dissimilar to the logic behind his own species bonding rituals. In Gaven’s case he was bound to a counterpart in order to bear their suffering and channel their pain enough to allow their bondmasters to be functional.

 

“Ideally the act of mating brings about an obscure chemical reaction that counteracts the blood fever. Breaking it and returning the subject’s mind and body to a normal condition. If we do not bond our children, we run the risk of leaving them vulnerable should they find themselves unable to acquire an appropriate partner. Even when bonded, it is still possible a Vulcan may find himself caught in a circumstance that does not allow him access to a compatible partner in which case he will die. It is only by the grace of fate that this war forced Jyrrus to delay no longer and return home. Had he done so sooner, he and T’Yel might have wed and avoided this outcome all together. Had he not come home in time…I do not wish to imagine what could have happened.” Sha’el explained as they continued toward Jyrrus’s rooms.

 

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Gaven mused out loud. “I would have never allowed him to linger with me for so long if I had known.”

 

“It is logical that you have answered your own question.” She replied.

 

“What of T’Yel? Is she going to be alright?” They were almost at Jyrrus’s room.

 

“Due to her psychic bond with Jyrrus she is experiencing sympathetic symptoms. It will pass for her as it is only a psychic echo of what he is experiencing. She will be well. Do not worry for her. If you are ready let us enter together. I may require your assistance to subdue him.” Sha’el calmly said as the stopped at Jyrrus’s door.

 

 Gaven groaned at the thought. For the life of him he wished he had his med bag handy.

 

To everyone’s relief and dismay it was not necessary to subdue Jyrrus. Upon entering his private room they found him under the dining table quivering like a frightened child. His distraught dissociative appearance reminded Gaven all too well of his night terrors that had plagued him relentlessly until he had begun to work with Jyrrus using guided meditation to minimize them. by the time he and Julian had come together they happened less frequently and were less intense.

 

“Oh Jyrrus.” Gaven sighed as he listened to the man whimper huddled up against one of the leg posts.

 

Having no fear of reprisal, Sha’el instantly went to her son getting down on her knees and coaxing him to come to her. Jyrrus obeyed and quickly buried his face into the fold of Sha’el robes.

 

“Mother. It hurts and I am afraid.” He murmured, anguished.

 

“Be at peace, my child. You shall not endure this alone.” Cradling her son, she looked up at Gaven who was standing at an attentive distance close enough to intervene but far enough to allow them some privacy. “Gaven, help me get him into the bed. He must rest. He has not slept for some time now.”

 

Eventually Gaven simply lifted Jyrrus from the floor and set him back down his bed he then excused himself so that he could get his med bag from his own room and try to get a better handle on just what he was dealing with.

 

As it turned out Jyrrus was in the early stages of Pon Farr which for now left him mostly feverish, disquieted and irritable. It was clear he was trying hard to stay in control. An effort that he was destined to lose.

 

With Sha’el’s permission Gaven administered a mild sedative to ensure Jyrrus slept.

 

“What can be done?” Gaven asked at length as he stood with Sha’el watching Jyrrus slip into a troubled repose.

 

“They must wed.” Sha’el said definitively.

 

“Wed?” Gaven choked on the word. “Is it necessary that they marry to fulfil the mating imperative?”

 

“It is…Preferable. Their nuptials were planned around Jyrrus’s Pon Farr. It is the most ideal time for them to join in full.” Sha’el explained.

 

Gaven scoffed in frustration. “This is all very complicated.”

 

Sha’el glanced at Gaven sideling with an assessing gaze. “My son is fortunate to have someone who cares about him as much as you do Gaven Ore-Oum. Come. We can do nothing more for him for now. Come and take supper with me and we will talk.”

 

“Thank you but I’m not very hungry.” Gaven remarked still watching Jyrrus.

 

“I do not believe I meant for you to interpret it as a request.” Sha’el dryly said.

 

Startled, Gaven gazed up at her. Then reluctantly gave in and finally tore his gaze away to offer Sha’el his arm. “As my lady wishes.”

 

~@~

 

Their supper was considerably light and Gaven spent the first ten or fifteen minutes distractedly staring down the adjacent corridor in Jyrrus’s direction. All his focus was centered on sending out comforting wavelengths that he wasn’t even sure was reaching the Vulcan. His ability to call out across the galaxy had been an end-of-life kind of phenomenon. And it was hard to say how much conscious control he’d had over it or if Jyrrus had picked up on it because of his own extensive telepathic abilities. Gaven had never thought to even question how it had all come about. He knew only that he had thrown himself at the mercy of the universe and had been granted an equally powerful response.

 

“Tell me what you are thinking.” Sha’el asked abruptly, after she’s watched him for some minutes over the rim of her teacup.

 

“I’m thinking that this is madness.” Gaven decidedly said. “Why am I here, Sha’el? Really? At first, I thought it was just to support Jyrrus. Later it became clear that I was influencing him somehow and I thought I was coming to severe that influence. But there’s something else going on here. Something bigger than I am and I don’t understand any of it anymore.”

 

“If you think that something is amiss logically there can only be so many possibilities. You say you no longer understand why you are here. That is the root issue. So logically what are the possibilities?” Sha’el asked, slipping into her priestess airs that demanded Gaven try to figure the matter out for himself, rather than have her reason it out for him.

 

He almost growled for having to come to his own conclusions when things were hanging so precariously on their edge.

 

“I have been led to believe Jyrrus came to Deep Space Nine to resolve the psychic bond that was originally forged when he encountered me on the verge of death orbiting Oum. When he insisted the other Vulcan’s allow him to retrieve me, I was…caught in the throes of madness. I couldn’t communicate. I was a danger to myself and everyone around me…I felt so…So alone. And then I wasn’t anymore. Something was touching my consciousness…And I rallied and poured everything I was into it. I was so sure I was doomed to die…I emptied out everything I was and have ever known into him. He…He bore all of me…And as I began to come apart, he…He stopped it and forced me to cocoon myself into a deep stasis. It was more than just a sharing of minds.” Gaven finally admitted. “I see that now.” 

 

He sucked his breath deeply in and when he let it out again, he did so in a long shudder.   

 

“I didn’t mean for it to be like this. Had Jyrrus never sought me out again I might not have known I had left a lasting psychic impression. Whatever I have done it seems that it has caused immeasurable damage. T’Yel is terrified of me. So much so that she sees me as something almost unreal. A threat so personal that she will not even considering hearing me out or coming to any understanding with me. All this time I’ve been led to believe that this entire situation is my fault. My influence. But…What if that isn’t so?” Gaven asked carefully as if the thought was only just blossoming within his awareness.

 

“When T’Yel confronted me earlier today she insisted that I didn’t understand. She insisted that everything the three of us are experiencing is rooted in Jyrrus. You have implied this as well. T’Yel believes that whatever is going on can only be undone by Jyrrus. But if he could undo all of this himself, why hasn’t he? I know he wants to be with T’Yel. I know it. He has told me again and again that is his wish. He loves her.” Gaven was turning it all over and over in his mind.

 

“My son does indeed love T’Yel. He absolutely desires to join with her if she allows him to do so. T’Yel loves Jyrrus in return but there is no room within her love for a rival. It is his love for you that she cannot tolerate, and she is further confused by your inability or unwillingness to accept that he loves you as well. In some ways it is possible that he loves you more passionately than he does her.” Sha’el finally interjected.

 

“No. I can’t accept that. What he feels for me is artificial. It is not real love born from natural progressive attachment. I have inflicted myself on him. Again, and again. I…I…Can’t indulge that kind of impropriety and neither can he. We can never and should never be together. That is not our destiny.”

 

“It is illogical for you to exclude the possibility.” Sha’el said flatly.

 

To Hell with logic!” Gaven cried as he practically shrunk into a tight ball where he sat. “This is about what is right. What is everyone trying to tell me? The problem is that Jyrrus believes himself to want me and can’t let it go? I have offered to leave Vulcan. I have offered to break with him myself. Jyrrus would forget me in time. I could go so far out of his reach that he would have to accept the logical impossibility…”

 

“It is not a matter of distance. It is a matter of choice. He must be made to choose. There is no other way.” A weak voice suddenly interjected from the edge of the archway connecting the room and its adjacent corridor. “Jyrrus must be made to choose. None of us can go on like this. I will NOT go on like this.”

 

Gaven’s eyes shot up to locate the source of the familiar voice. When he saw T’Yel quivering in the archway and clinging to one side of it he immediately stood. “T’Yel. You shouldn’t be standing right now. You need rest.”

 

On instinct Gaven rushed to her but she nearly clawed him back from grasping hold of her. “No! He must choose or…die. I stand here to submit the challenge of Kal-if-fee. As is my right. I will no longer share him…with…you.”

At this T’Yel nearly fainted and this time Gaven did catch her without further resistance even though he heard her growl at him in miserable protest of his touch.

 

Gaven shot a glare back at Sha’el and saw her swiftly rise as he did so. “I bear witness to your decree. If you so will this rite than name your campion now.”

 

Sha’el’s voice held a strong hypnotic command that roused the other woman into stronger alertness as Sha’el’s voice nearly echoed through the room.

 

T’Yel grit her teeth and pushed off Gaven once more forcing herself to stand upright under her own power and forcing him to move away.  Summoning all her remaining strength and concentration she stood as tall as she could, jutting out her faerie like pointed chin defiantly.

 

“I choose him.” T’Yel pointed definitively at Gaven her words ripping through the room in a near snarl.

 

No.” Gaven protested darkly. “I will not fight Jyrrus to the death for you.”

 

Gaven and T’Yel glared murderous daggers into each other.

 

“If you do not fight Jyrrus and attempt to break the blood fever ravishing his mind and body then he will surely die.” Sha’el boomed with all the knowing authority of the High Priestess that she was. “We must make hast with the preparations. There is little time.”

 

Sha’el raised her hands and clapped twice. From seemingly nowhere two teenage Vulcan Acolytes appeared unobtrusively along the opposite side of the wide arch.

 

“Take her now. The rite of Kal-if-fee has been acknowledged and as mistress of this temple I will honor it’s decree.” She commanded.

 

Gaven stepped farther aside. His mouth slack wish shock and disbelief.

 

“No.” He said again, more quietly. “I cannot do it.”

 

Slowly he dropped down onto his knees. “I cannot accept being the cause of Jyrrus’s demise or allow him to be the cause of mine.”

 

At some point Gaven felt something engulf his shoulders and cradle the back of his head. The next thing he knew a hand had embedded itself into his glossy curls and forced his face up at an angle. When he opened his eyes, he found them met with Sha’el’s as she kept him in a strange and intense grip and under an equally intense gaze.

 

“You must do this, Gaven Ore-Oum. It is the only way to save my son’s life. It is possible it is the only way to save all of your lives.” She gravely proclaimed.

 

Locked in her powerful embrace Gaven knew he could not dispute her.

 

There was something deeper going on. Something Sha’el grasped that none of the rest of them did. There was another possibility in all of this. The possibility that Sha’el was trying to facilitate something. It was possible she had been using her influence all along to bring Gaven and the others to this final hinge point. He recalled that it had been Sha’el who had taken responsibility for Gaven’s asylum when he had first come to Vulcan. Later it had been she who had encouraged Jyrrus to seek him out instead of attempting to break their bond alone on his homeworld with the help of the Vulcan priests.  While he would not put all of it on Sha’el these connections were not lost on him. Why? For what end? Gaven didn’t understand the logic of any of it, but something deep inside him wanted to believe she was operating under the power of all their best interests. Believing so was the only solace he had as he scrambled to figure out a way for both Jyrrus and himself to survive their impending experience.

 

Chapter 57: The Vulcan Paradox

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifty-Seven The Vulcan Paradox

 

When it had been implied that he was to stand as T’Yel’s Champion in the challenge of Kal-if-fee, Gaven assumed that there would be some small time to prepare. He expected the business would take place at first light which would have afforded him enough time to weigh their situation through the evening and night. But to his great alarm, the Challenge was to take place as soon as the Mount Seleya priests could return to their nearby stronghold and prepare the ritual space. Gaven discovered there was less than an hour to prepare and with little understanding of Vulcan tradition, he found he had no choice but to keep doggedly to Sha’el’s side begging her guidance in the proceedings.

 

There was one small advantage in this. Sha’el was not entirely a traditionalist. Instead of firmly and stoically thrusting Gaven into the fire with little explanation, she began to talk strategy with him in a quiet even tone as they walked through the inner corridors of the temple together on their way to the rock peak.

 

“Kal-if-fee was created to Channel the Vulcan mating imperative. It was an opportunity for the female to accept or reject her bonded mate in the event she wished to join with another or to simply forgo joining with her intended altogether. In past Eras, the challenge was a true death match. The visceral act of killing was thought and often proven to be powerful enough to break the blood fever of one or both subjects.” Sha’el explained.

 

“Is it the only way?” He asked.

 

“There have been a handful of cases in more contemporary times of the blood fever being broken through only the incapacitation of the subject affected by it. It is also possible, though rarely achieved, that the person undergoing Pon Far can break the blood fever by their own will through intense meditation. Most Vulcan’s die in the attempt.”

 

None of this information was comforting.

 

“I know Jyrrus. We’ve spared and trained together. What he lacks in physical power he makes up for in his precision and agility. Usually, his lack of confidence would be his primary liability but in an altered bio-chemical state I’m unsure what he’d be capable of.” Gaven mused.

 

“The pain will drive him to strike. Pon Farr heightens everything for a Vulcan except his self-control. It is probable that when confronted by you he may not recognize who you are.” She cautioned.

 

“If that’s your way of telling me I won’t be able to reason or emotionally appeal to him your warning has been noted.” Gaven grumbled. “I will do what I can to incapacitate him using as little lethal force as I can. Maybe, maybe it will be enough.”

 

“I do not expect you to make promises to me that you cannot keep, Gaven Ore-Oum. It is not my desire to see either of you destroyed in this business, but I have reconciled with all logical possibilities.”

 

“Oh? Any illogical possibilities you want to share?” Gaven inquired flippantly.

 

At this Sha’el paused along the corridor and reached out to touch Gaven’s face. “Whatever happens it is imperative that you live through this. Vulcan’s have a Katra, a literal soul that holds everything they are and have ever been. Though our Katra we retain the wisdom and folly of our people and carry that knowledge with us into the future. I do not know if the Oum have anything equivalent, but what I am certain about is that you carry the essence of your people, and your history. Not just who you are but everything everyone before you have ever been. It is the reason you were powerful enough to cast your consciousness out through space and it is the reason my son heard you and answered. If my son dies, what he was can be retrieved. If you die everything that you hold unconsciously inside you will be lost.”

 

Gaven felt a buzzy sensation ripple behind his nose as an involuntary shiver ran down his spine the sensations caused him to step back just out of her reach.

 

“To my knowledge, the Oum do not believe in such things.” Gaven remarked, cautiously.

 

“Belief is not required for something to be true.” She replied.

 

~@~

 

In the hazy dusk just beginning both sky and rockface nearly assumed the same red orange hue only distinguishable by the obvious light coming from the sky casting deep shadows along the narrow craigs and deep waterless ravines. Some humans might have said the landscape at this time resembled a kind of Hellscape and the air was thick and still quite hot as the rock around them still radiated the heat of the day off their surfaces. The Temple Kar was located down wind of the peak of Mount Seleya and was far more complex in its tunnel networks.

 

Built into the high peak was nothing more than a shallow cavern where some dozen Vulcan priests resided. There was only one narrow path that led up to the flat cut plateau. Beside it was a great rock formation connected to the rest of the rock face by a narrow natural arch. This isolated formation that seemed to jut up out of the dusty mist had been constructed into a bowl like alter place. The perfectly carved bridge and stairway was shaped with laser precision and the space could have easily supported six hundred people shoulder to shoulder within the circle of what Gaven estimated was probably around a hundred square meters. With just two dozen of them present the alter space seemed large however there were no railings. Only the slated rounded edge resembling a deep plate. How easy would it be to throw someone over the edge to meet their doom?

Huge oil diffusers stood at strategic points in the ritual space casting enough warm light to cut through the dusty haze of the slowly darkening atmosphere. At the farthest point out from the main Seleya temple which stood like an obsidian obelisk and lined up with mathematical precision with the farthest alter point, was the alter itself. A stone dais with twin obelisk pillars and an alter block behind it of polished stone.

 

Out of respect the priest waited for Sha’el to traverse the stone bridge first. It appeared she planned to officiate the Kal-if-fee challenge. Considering that T’yel had demanded the rite in front of her it made sense. Gaven halted at the mouth of the rock bridge and finally pulled back allowing Sha’el to go on without him. He knew once he crossed the bridge as well there would be no turning back. Frantic to gather as much information as he could, Gaven scanned the would be field of battle committing every inch of it to his eidetic memory. As he did this, he caught sight of T’Yel and scowled.

 

She was dressed in modest white robes and whatever discomfort she had felt before she was now schooling into a proud emotionless mask. On instinct Gaven surmised that she was dressed in her wedding finery. From what he had been able to piece together the challenge of Kal-if-fee was an alternative to the marriage rites. Sort of the equivalent of the bride and groom being given the chance to either claim each other assuming no impediment to their union existed or reject one other if one or both felt so inclined or were given other cause.

 

In this case an impediment did exists. Gaven was it. He was the proverbial fly in the ointment. Gaven turned swiftly around. Looking frantically as he tried to determine the whereabout of Jyrrus. He didn’t seem to be there with the others and if he was indeed in a compromised state it was hard to imagine him appearing and calmly walking to the dais to accept his fate. Would they bring him in snarling like a caged animal waiting to strike? Or would he be fearful and resistant? Gaven’s desperation to see his friend and ensure he was alright was so strong he almost stalked back the way he came to go search Jyrrus out.

 

But it was unnecessary to go far.

 

As Gaven slowly backed off the others nearing the frame of the entrance to the Priests great room, he heard a low pained voice address him.

 

“Doctor, a wor-d.”

 

Gaven narrowed his eyes and peered into the shadows. The light in the sky was fading fast but thanks to his excellent vison, he easily adjusted the lenses of his eyes allowing him to see more acutely than the others into the dark entry way. What he saw broke his heart.

 

Jyrrus was there cowering in the shadows. His body visibly trembling with adrenaline as Jyrrus fought to stay in some small control.

 

Not caring if it was wise or not Gaven darted at him gripping Jyrrus by the shoulders. “Jyrrus. I’m here.  This is madness. We have to find another way. If you’re in control enough to speak then there may be enough time. I could try and link with you…Bring you into stasis with me…It could be enough…I could absorb your suffering and help you break the blood fever...I…”

 

“No.” Jyrrus strained. “This…Can be the only way. It is logi…”

 

Jyrrus suddenly cried out in torment and pushed Gaven back from him. As his eyes caught the moonlight, they nearly resemble the eyes of a wolf reflecting off the last ray of the sun as it began to make its final dip.

 

Gaven felt something in Jyrrus give. He was succumbing entirely to his primordial instincts now. He was losing the man and gaining the animal left over. Grimacing Gaven backed away out through whence he had come. Jyrrus was stalking him now. His often-despondent feature contorting into wrinkled strained shapes of irrational anguish. Jyrrus continued to advance forcing gave backwards through the parallel lines of waiting priest back along the long stone bridge until they were both practically in the center of the ritual space. Behind him feminine eyes bore into his back. Two sets belonging to T’yel and Sha’el.

Somewhere behind him a gong rattled causing Jyrrus to halt in his advancement and crouch down with his hands over his sensitive ears. It was painful to see him so abruptly switch from hungry predator to frightened cowering beast.

 

Behind him Sha’el stood and began to speak in a voice that was so carrying to nearly echoed in the space.

 

“This has been the joining place of my bloodline for over two thousand years. In this place we have grasped the essence of what it means to be Vulcan, heart and soul. What we are here to do comes down from the time of the beginning. Without change. It is our way.”

 

As she spoke these words rattling bells handled by the priests began to jingle like icicles clinking together in a steady wind.

 

“Earlier this night a challenge was laid before me and others here. The rites of marriage have been rejected in favor of the sacred challenge of Kal-if-fee. Who rejects this bond?” Sha’el demanded.

 

“I do.” T’yel proclaimed.

 

“Then name your champion.” Sha’el encouraged her.

 

“I name the out-worlder as my champion. Gaven Ore-Oum.” T’yel repeated.

 

Gaven winced at the way she had addressed him. Every word was being hurled at him like jagged pieces of glass.

 

“And are prepared to become the property of the victor whoever it may be?” Sha’el inquired, her tone demanding that only the deepest vow of submission would do.

 

At this Gaven turned away from Jyrrus who was being coaxed back by the trained priests, so that he could stare with all his might into the grave pale woman’s face. The fact that T’yel would essentially become his property if Jyrrus fell was an aspect that had never crossed Gaven’s mind. Why would she do such a thing? T’yel hated and feared him. Was she so confident in Jyrrus’s abilities to risk being entrapped by the very person she claimed haunted her waking hours? Did she believe that even if Gaven could overtake Jyrrus he would instead choose to sacrifice himself?

 

Had there been time Gaven might have reflected on how T’yel’s gamble was perhaps not completely foolhardy. Gaven had certainly risked his own life many times for his friends and had only narrowly escaped some of those situations alive. He might have seriously considered it again if Sha’el’s forbidding words had not been so fresh upon his minds eye. Sha’el was prepared to sacrifice her son for him. For what he was? What he carried in him. Gaven certainly hadn’t understood her reasoning either. Outside of his eidetic recall he did not understand what she meant when she’d given him her reasoning and there wasn’t any time to delve into the question further.

 

“Jyrrus. Do you accept this challenge in accordance with our laws and customs?” There was no hint of weakness in Sha’el’s question as she put it to her disheveled son.

 

“I…Will honor our ways.” Jyrrus struggled to agree as he crouched cradling his head in his hands.

 

The bells rattled.

 

“Gaven Ore-Oum. Please approach.” She beckoned Gaven to come closer to her directly and watched him reluctantly obey. “You are not of our people nor of our world. You are not bound by our ways and are free to deny your participation. What say you?”

 

“A point of clarification.” His answer was surprisingly carrying. “If I deny these rites will anyone bother to further intervene on Jyrrus’s behalf? Anyone? T’yel? You have the power to stop this. To save him. If I refuse, will you withdraw your challenge and end you’re dispute?”

 

“I will not.” T’yel said cuttingly.

 

Gaven heard both love and pride in her tone and realized that in her mind T’yel was trying to save Jyrrus. If not from certain death, then from the bewitchment she believed had befallen him under Gaven’s influence.

 

Frustration at her response was evident upon Gaven’s face as he shifted his gaze back to Sha’el. “If that is how it will be then I cannot in good conscience refuse the challenge. I accept.”

 

Before he retreated down from the dais Gaven glared at T’Yel once more. For once he sincerely hoped she could sense the fierceness of his presence just then. His eyes said, it did not have to be this way between us.

 

T’yel held his gaze and lifted her chin higher in defiance. Her reply said, No. It did not have to be this way. But this is how it is.

 

All around him the bells jingled.

 

“Here begins the act of combat for the possession of the woman T’yel. As it was in the beginning, so it is now.” Sha’el commanded and then uttered something in Vulcan that signaled the traditional ax like weapons to be brought forward.

 

Immediately this generated a problem. In the time he and Jyrrus had spent training with Worf most oof their sparing had been hand to hand. While Worf had intended to eventual graduate them and have them use weapons, they’re training had been dissolved before they could advance that far. The fight between them would begin awkwardly and would put Gaven if not both at a disadvantage. He had to disarm Jyrrus as quickly as possible if he planned to try and incapacitate him enough to break the blood fever without killing him. But that was as if Jyrrus was fit to fight at all.

 

Gaven had no frame of reference for what Pon Far looked like. He supposed in some it induced a murderous kind of rage but although Jyrrus had been aggravated he seemed more fearful under the effects of his hormones. Gaven remembered how Jyrrus had cowered under the table of his room and now he groaned and moaned still in a crouch position initially unable to accept his weapon.

 

Gaven advanced towards him swiftly and the other priests looked as if they might bar his approach until Jyrrus was in the proper combative position.

 

“Jyrrus. You must get up. You must face me. You are a Vulcan. The Vulcan heart is forged in fire, the Vulcan will is forged from its flames. GET. UP. NOW.” Gaven demanded.

 

To Gaven’s great satisfaction Jyrrus growled low and long and did finally stand. For the moment there was still struggling recognition in his eyes but Gaven knew it was only a matter of time before his friend disassociated and lost himself within his impulses. Gaven felt that this transition point would be the best chance he had. Maybe the only chance he had to gain a small advantage.

 

“I am…Ready.” Jyrrus growled low.

 

Gaven felt a wash of pride at his utterance. “Good. Then let’s begin.”

 

Gaven took a defensive stance and waited for Jyrrus come at him.

 

For a full minute, their weapons clashed and gnashed together. Despite Jyrrus being less broad than him their strength was almost equal. Once Jyrrus was fully consumed by the blood fever he would likely surpass Gaven in his power and when this happened Gaven’s only real saving grace would be that he was slightly taller than the Vulcan was and far more collected.

 

Twice Jyrrus swung the bladed end of his weighted ax and the blows came close enough to slice open the dessert robes Gaven was wearing.

 

It was on his third attempt when Gaven saw Jyrrus’s eyes dilate and knew he had one chance. The change was subtle but served to immediately focus the Vulcan’s wrath to a fine point. This time when he lunged for Gaven he did so with all his might and instead of deflecting the blow Gaven flung his own ax out and away from them as he spun sideways and as the head of Jyrrus’s ax narrowly missed him Gaven gripped hold of it at the head and forced the blunt weighted end back at Jyrrus channeling his own kinetic energy back at him the way Worf had taught them hitting Jyrrus squarely in the breadbox. When he heard a puff of forced exhalation Gaven jerked Jyrrus’s ax out of his hands.  Swiftly backing away while Jyrrus was stunned, Gaven began to spin using the weight of the weapon to his advantage as he pitched it as hard as he could directly at own causing the ax to rocket into its sister and send them both ricocheting over the edge of the arena.

 

Finding his robes to be a liability with them now torn. Gaven jerked the fabric off himself but didn’t discard it.  A plan was forming in his mind’s eye, but it was a delicate thing. They circled each other and once again Gaven set his footing waiting for Jyrrus to come at him. When he saw Jyrrus charge, Gaven waited and only at the last second dropped the robe as they caught each other and began to engage in what could only b described as a wrestling match with both trying to knock the other to the ground.

 

As Gaven predicted Jyrrus’s pummels were brutally swift and accurate as Gaven worked to keep him off his weakest points. They knew each other well even under their mutual duress. At one point after ripping into Gaven’s back and effectively stunning him with a back handed blow that was indeed quite skull rattling, Gaven tried to spin away from him to give himself time to recover. There was a hint of a concussion loaming that made his head spin and buzz behind his eyes. The spin did not come off well and Jyrrus effectively struck him in his weakest point. The space above his knee where the muscle was still weaker than the rest of him after his long-suffered injury on Gulba IV. This move was exceedingly painful and did bring Gaven abruptly down. More blows to the stomach as Jyrrus stomped and kicked him made Gaven feel dazed. For the briefest of second Gaven entertained the idea if simply allowing Jyrrus to beat him within an inch of his life. He could, if he tried, slow his heart rate down so slowly it mirrored death.

 

But then visions of Jyrrus possibly ripping his throat out on instinct or throwing his body over the side stopped him. Playing dead wasn’t going to work. He would have to incapacitate Jyrrus first and go from there. The beating he received was merciless. Jyrrus no longer saw him as anything more than an interloper to destroy. By the Phrophets, if Jyrrus succeeded, Gaven didn’t dare contemplate how the Vulcan would find the nerve to live with himself afterwards.

 

Gaven felt one of the glands along his abdominal slits rupture under the force of Jyrrus’s heel. The feeling was excruciating especially since Gaven was wearing nothing but his dark trousers leaving his belly exposed for the dirt and sand to grind into his wounds. It burned as surely as the feeling of hot oil burned when exposed to the skin.

 

Gaven cried out hoarsely. His body was now caught up in its own chemical response and he could feel his nervous system go fully into flight or fight response. Gaven’s fingers twitched. His palms starting to burn from the inside out.

 

He had one chance.

 

 As Jyrrus took him by the throat and began to lift him effectively cutting into his air supply Gaven laced his bad leg around one of Jyrrus’s legs and in a maneuver that Worf had taught them he managed in a twisting motion to abruptly flip Jyrrus to the ground face first as he quickly maneuvered them into a pinning hold.

 

“I’m sorry.” Gaven muttered against the thrashing Vulcan’s ear as he pinned him with all his body weight and pressing one had to the center of his back where he was holding one arm and the other against the back of Jyrrus’s skull, Gaven closed his eyes and released a concentrated energy blast into Jyrrus briefly interfering with both the electromagnetic field of both his heart and brain.

 

For a brief breath Jyrrus went stiff.

 

“His heart! It’s stopped!” T’yel cried.

 

Growling Gaven quickly opened a link between them having no reason to doubt T’yel’s assessment given her psychic connection with Jyrrus. Feeling that she was right, Gaven rolled off Jyrrus lifting him into his lap from behind. He then closed his eyes and again hit him with a blow of energy this one much smaller and more concentrated over Jyrrus heart. This effectively Jolted it back into life. Seconds later he felt Jyrrus gasp and heard both T’yel and Sha’el rise from their seated position.

 

“The blood fever, has it broken?” Sha’el demanded.

 

Breathing hard Gaven linked again running his had up Jyrrus’s bare chest where his shirt had been torn and up to his temple.

 

“No.” Gaven heaved. “He still burns. It hasn’t been enough.”

 

“Jyrrus! You stay with me damn it!” Still caught up in their link Gaven did his best to meld their bodies within the link so that Gaven could try to break the neuro-toxification himself. But even this was to little avail. He was slowing the final process, but he couldn’t stop it.

 

Desperate, through blurred vision Gaven looked out toward T’yel and Sha’el. “Has the challenge been fulfilled? HAS IT?” Gaven growled.

 

“Jyrrus Cheval in the stopping of his heart has bowed to the requirements of the challenge. As high priestess and in accordance with our laws I declare Jyrrus’s forfeit. You have taken the challenge of  Kun-la-fee. T’Yel is yours. So it has been said so it is done.” Sha’el said remorselessly.

 

“T’Yel.” Gaven barked. “Only you have the power to save him now. You must initiate the Vulcan mating link. Please!”

 

T’yel’s eye went wide as unshed tears formed in her eyes.

 

“I am not asking anymore. Do this. You are mine and it is my will.” Gaven strained unsure if he had the clout to really order her to do anything. “If you will not do this then it is you who have betrayed Jyrrus’s love and not him. Do it. PLEASE.” Gaven was losing his hold his own body draining of color as it briefly took on some of Jyrrus’s symptom. For what he could yet do for him Gaven took on Jyrrus unconscious suffering. Holding it within himself.

 

Was this to be the end? If Jyrrus died here and now in his arms, would it be like losing Lopel all over again. Another soulmate he couldn’t save.

 

Gaven’s vision began to grow spotty. There was little time now. He could feel Jyrrus begin to slip from him and for a second Gaven felt as if he might slip over into the abyss with him.

 

That is until he felt something else enter his consciousness. Unlike his link with Cheval which was only biological, this was an emotionally driven link of feelings and think talk. And then he internally more than externally heard the words. T’yel speaking not so much to him but near him in the internal ether of their minds.

 

“Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. I await you my love. I demand of you to answer my call.”

 

Gaven felt a body settle itself against his own sandwiching Jyrrus between them. Molding the three of them into one form. One swirling stream.

 

Silence echoed in the inner space.

 

Gaven could feel T’Yel now as surely as he could Jyrrus. As they more completely merged into a three-way linking process.

 

And then somewhere in the depths as their mind and emotions swirled and mixed Gaven heard a distant voice emerge.

.

“Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. I have come for you my love. I answer your call. We are separate and we are together. We are two and also we are one.”

 

Gaven felt someone. Maybe several people lifting him. He traced the toxins in Jyrrus’s brain for as long as he could manage as the blood fever began to break the neurotoxins beginning to recede and with it he had no choice but to break away as well holding on to their link for as long as possible until he felt Jyrrus leaving his grasp.

 

Instead of being whisked away as if he was an after thought from the scene Gaven was carried instead to the stone alter and laid down across it. A silk alter blanket carefully placed over him. He could hear the monks approach the couple still cradling each other in the center of the space as a tent of gauzy fabric was erected around them casting their images in near silhouette against the burning lamps and set sun. The priest backed off and resumed their positions on the edges of the bowl turning their bodies outward so that their backs where to them. Sha’el remained as well and turned away approaching Gaven and grasping at his bruised hands that had been placed at his waist. Her touch held unspoken power, compassion, and gratitude.

 

They all remained like this until the first light of dawn. Gaven had long succumbed to unconsciousness as he laid upon the alter stone, his wounds untended but his heart still strong and vital.

 

“Wake Gaven Ore and permit your wife to tend to you.” Sha’el murmured.

 

At this remark Gaven’s eyes opened as he pushed aside the headache and pain throughout his body to support himself on one arm and look out over the arena.

 

T’Yel stood once more. Her hair was disheveled. Her mouth swollen and bruised. Her body still ripe with spent sensuality. Her gauzy robes were soiled with sand and dirt as well as blood. It was hard to say if the blood was from Jyrrus’s wounds or the result of their consummating passion.

 

Jyrrus was being supported by her where they stood. His own appearance wasn’t much different if a bit more abused.

 

“Jyrrus lives.” Gaven rumbled. “Therefore, you are not really mine. Will you dispute this point with me Sha’el?”

 

“I accept your point. But not because of the events that have transpired here.” Sha’el said cryptically.

 

“I’m sure you will enlighten us.” Gaven doggedly said. “Personally, I will take it with or without further explanation.”

 

“Approach, my children.” Sha’el beckoned.

 

When they slowly did and were but a foot or two away T’Yel shrugged out of Jyrrus arms and stepped forward as if she wished to say something on her own behalf.

 

Instead Gaven suddenly found T’Yel practically burry her face into his abdomen entwining her arms around his waist. Utterly alarmed and confused by this he almost began to protest when he heard her speak in a muffled fashion into his solar plexus. “I am sorry.”

 

“As am I.” Gaven heard himself say on an exhale.

 

Gaven cupped her face with one hand and encouraged her to loosen her hold since it hurt him to have her pressed into him as she was. The looked at each other for a moment both knowing that there were other things that needed to be said between them but that neither had the time or the word just then to articulate.

 

Gaven sighed again and dropping his hand o that he could prop himself gingerly up on his elbows he looked around T’yel to eye Jyrrus who was watching him with a look of a guilty conscience. There were things that needed to be said between them as well but Gaven had no intention of handling such a conversation anytime soon if he ever did.

 

“Jyrrus. Are you well?” Gaven asked flatly.

 

“I am.” Jyrrus responded softly. “Mostly, Doctor.”

 

“Blessed be.” Gaven muttered.  “Now if someone would like to explain to me what in Hell is going on, I would be most appreciative. By all means…Take your time.”

 

“There is a matter we must settle between the three of you.” Sha’el remarked. “It is our way for the victor of Kal-if-fee to claim their mate. It is logical that under normal circumstances you, Gaven Ore-oum would have won the right to claim T’Yel as your bride. However, it has come to my awareness that there is an impediment. You cannot lawfully take T’Yel to wife because you are already bound to another in spirit.”

 

Upon hearing this accusation Gaven gawked. Sha’el couldn’t possibly be referring to Lopel. Lopel was dead and it was not Sha’el’s place to start dictating the traditions of his own culture to him. Was she talking about Julian? Had Jyrrus related to her the depths of Gaven’s feeling for him?

 

“You’re…Trying to say that I’m already…Married to someone?” Gaven suggested glumly.

 

“Not exactly.” T’Yel offered softly. She’d moved off him now but kept a hand rested on Gaven’s thigh.

 

“We Vulcan’s are rooted in passion.” Sha’el began. “Our commitment to logic came later to bring our people out of the dark ages where we would have surely destroyed ourselves. There is something deeper we hold to than ritual marriage. A connection known as T’hy’la. The word has no comparative language translation although it is generally acceptable to translate it as friend and soul mate as well as brother. There are many ways we Vulcans may bond with others. You are familiar with our mind melding abilities and no doubt understand the significance of the Vulcan Katra by now.”

 

Gaven made an expression that said he was following but dearly wished Sha’el would get to the damn point.

 

“There are some instances when a piece of a Vulcan’s Katra may be transferred into another. If a Vulcan chooses to impart a piece of their soul or all of it into someone who is not Vulcan the results can be unpredictable.” Sha’el explained.

 

Gaven’s mouth dropped slightly open as he struggled to comprehend what the Hell Sha’el was attempting to say to him.

 

“Wait. Just wait.” Gaven huffed. “Let me see if I understand this. Is this your round about way of telling me that I have inadvertently and literally absorbed a piece of Jyrrus’s soul? I mean…His, his Katra? When? Here? Somewhere before? I mean before when all this madness began?”

 

“No.” It was Jyrrus’s turn to sheepishly hobble forward. “The transfer didn’t happen here. It happened on the freighter when you were taken from space.”

 

Gaven’s eyes were wide and unsure.

 

“When I sensed you calling out to me across space you’re were beyond madness. It had taken everything out of you to fling your consciousness across the galaxy and you were near death when I found you. When our minds touched, you…You poured everything you were into me. You were dying. I saw that you were dying and I found that I could not permit that. To bring you away from the final edge, I gave you a small part of myself to anchor you to the material world. I do not even know if it was intentional. I can only say I wanted you to survive.” Jyrrus explained.

 

 “You embedded part of your Katra within me. Without my knowledge or consent? What in Hell were you thinking? Did you think you could just do something like that and then walk away from it as if it would have no effect? Did you know? Jyrrus? Did. You. Know?” Gaven demanded.

 

“No.” Jyruss replied in a whisper. “Not until we melded our minds again and even then, I was not certain until we came back to Vulcan and by that time, I finally discovered the truth that with all certainty it would be impossible to separate us.”

 

“Impossible? Why?” Gaven demanded even more doggedly.

 

“Because. I did not want to be separated from you and it would have been dangerous to us both if anyone had tried to force me to.” Jyrrus said bluntly.

 

“I knew all along.” T’Yel confessed. “I could feel it but could not prove it was so. It infuriated me to know and not be able to make Jyrrus understand what he had done. To both of us. Jyrrus would not, could not face it in the beginning. I thought you could feel it. I believed that you knew. That you had encouraged him. That you had led him astray somehow. But now that we have shared as well, I see your innocence. I saw why he did it. Why he saved you and I am…Grateful that he suceeded. Please forgive my pride.”

 

“There is nothing that needs forgiveness, T’Yel.” Gaven muttered dismissively. “Can this…You say this transfer cannot be achieved but I don’t believe you. Sha’el, can his Katra transfer be undone?”

 

Sha’el nodded. “Jyrrus’s Katra can be restored in full if that is your mutual wish. It will be harder if he resists. More dangerous, but it can be done. But the presence of Jyrrus’s Katra in and of itself is not the issue in regard to this proceeding. You have participated in the Joining. At least in part. By our laws and all other factors that have come to my attention you are considered a part of Jyrrus now. Bound heart and soul to him.” Sha’el insisted.

 

“No. I never consented to anything like that. You can’t possibly expect me to accept this.” He protested. “T’Yel, do something. Say something. You can’t possibly want this either.”

 

“He loves you, Gaven. He loves us both. In saving him as you did you have bound apart of yourself to him forever.” T’Yel explained unhelpfully.

 

“This can’t be happening. How do I make this right? All I’ve ever wanted to do was make it right.” Gaven’s tone was panicked and exhausted. “Jyrrus! You have to help me make this right!”

 

“The issue could be forced, as I have said. However, if my son’s subconscious mind is resistant to the process the attempt could damage you both.” Sha’el explained in a no-nonsense tone.

 

“You’re telling me Jyrrus has to be willing to remove his Katra from my mind? It seems to me that he won’t consciously do it. So now what? What a fine mess I find myself entangled in.” Gaven was visibly angry but his injuries were limiting his ability to physically express himself outside of his nails digging painfully into his palms.

 

“Is this the outcome you wanted T’Yel?” Gaven asked her bitterly. “We could have found another way together. Jyrrus may think he loves me but his life has always been rooted here on Vulcan with you. He can’t have it both ways. I can’t be expected to take responsibility for you because he can’t or won’t relinquish his attachment to me and you’ve now both dragged me into this cultural Labyrinth of possession. What do you say of your damn laws Sha’el? How is anything that has transpired here logical? You suggest that Jyrrus is…Apart of me, and yet you all carried out the marriage ritual of Kal-if-fa. Binding Jyrrus and T’yel in union even after the challenge of Kal-if-fee was completed and technically won by me. You were bonded at my insistence. That is true and I will concede that. But it was purely in the interest of breaking the blood fever and saving his life. Whether you culturally choose to acknowledge their consummation as valid marriage, you cannot deny to me they are fully and inseparably bonded now. Even more so than Jyrrus and I are.”

 

Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched.

 

 “This whole thing has been a farce.” Gaven continued, fuming. “All of you are wrong to have brought me into this. I am not of your people; I am not of your world. I have no place here or anywhere else.”

 

His finally words were unexpectedly bitter and inwardly cutting.

 

“Has any of you given any thought to the fact that you are not the only people I care about in the universe.” Gaven continued more quietly and more to himself than anyone else.

 

Jyrrus and T’Yel exchanged looks of what might have passed for remorse as they stood apart, but no doubt carried a kind of conversation between them that only lovers silently could.

 

“What you have done for us can never be accurately quantified.” Jyrrus said at last. “You have saved my life and are solely responsible for bringing T’yel and I back into unity.”

 

“There is an incredibly old tradition on Vulcan, dating back to the dark ages when the great houses warred and feuded with each other. The great feudal houses would entrust non-familial companions into their households to stand in their stead while they battled and, in the event the lord did not return, who would take responsibility for their families in the event the lord fell in war. The Consort was always a person of honor and trust within each household and the title and position was largely honorary. By modern contrast, the role of Consort is still recognized in our culture. Ancient as the practice is. It was a logical tradition that predated our devotion to logic itself.” Sha’el offered.

 

She then fixed her eyes on Gaven though he was given the impression she was looking through him as much as she was at him.

 

“You already agreed to take on the responsibility of T’Yel should you have succeeded in the challenge of Kal-if-fee. By contemporary Vulcan standards you were victorious. Thus, you are bound to this responsibility regardless of you’re place of origin. It was on your command that Jyrrus and T’yel were ritualistically bonded. You have consented to their bond and logically by both the first and second parts you are now a part of them as well.”

 

Sha’el paused to allow her words to be fully understood.

 

“If you acknowledge yourself as a Consort then you will have legalized and protected their bond vouching for and reinforcing it with your own.” Sha’el explained.

 

Gaven considered this information. If he agreed to this it would be like being a second. A kind of backup spouse in symbolism. Although Gaven might have argued that Jyrrus fit the term better than he did since T’yel was technically the property of Gaven and he was relinquishing her to Jyrrus. Given how healthy Jyrrus and T’Yel were there was no reason to think they wouldn’t enjoy a long happy union together, but by becoming their Consort was ensuring a security measure that ensured everyone would always be taken care of legally and practically if anything serious arose. Despite everything, Jyrrus was still his best friend and Gaven did care about his happiness and by extension T’yel’s happiness as well.

 

 He had always cared. He still cared even though he was angry and still deeply confused by the position he now found himself in.

 

“Is this what you both want?” Gaven asked softly. His head still ached, and his body was weak and sore. The wound at his slit reminding him that it would need more advanced attention to avoid infection. He was simply exhausted.

 

Jyrrus came to stand fully beside T’Yel as he slipped his arm around her waist creating a protective wall if front of Gaven.

 

“Yes.” They both said in perfect unison.

 

Gaven sighed and let his body slump back down onto the alter slab. “Fine. All I’ve wanted since I got here was to help mend the chasm between you two. If this is what it will take to bring you back together as you were always meant to be than so be it. I give you all my full and free consent. Now if you don’t mind, I think it would be prudent for us all to see whatever passes for another doctor on this mountain. I can’t do everything after all.”

 

Gaven no longer had the strength to argue further about the business.

 

After that they all reconvened in the temple of Kar. Gaven was brought down by the priests on a simplistic gurney and both Gaven and Jyrrus received much needed medical attention. By evening they were cleared to resume their normal activities although Gaven was due to keep to his bed for a good long while.

 

A few days later when he was well enough to stand and walk on his own, he, Jyrrus, T’Yel and Sha’el ascend Mount Selenya once more to preform the final ritualized legalities that would transfer Gaven’s rights with T’yell back to Jyrrus and document him as their second.

 

As their Consort.

 

Jyrrus and T’Yel’s marriage was officiated by Sha’el personally and when it was done Gaven was formally recognized as their chosen Consort. It wasn’t quite like marrying both outright, but it was close enough to the idea that Gaven nearly fainted cold when he was given his new name. An aspect he had not been expecting or prepared for.

 

On Vulcan, if nowhere else, Gaven would no longer be Gaven Ore-Oum.

 

He was now and would forever be known to all who stood as witness that day as Gaven Ore-Cheval.

 

Consort.

 T’hy’la . Friend/Brother/Lover.

 Soul Mate.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 58: The Price of Victory

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Price of Victory

 

[1]The moment the Defiant entered the wormhole Benjamin Sisko found himself unceremoniously plucked out of his sense of time, space, and reality into the dreamlike world of the aliens whom the Bajoran’s so devoutly believed where their divine Prophets. Confused and disgruntled, upon inquiry Sisko was presented with the visages of his friends and crew mates though he knew they were really the aliens of the Wormhole taking on the most acceptable form that the human part of his identity could accept.

 

Face to face with the Prophet’s Benjamin found himself arguing his case and his reasoning for his willingness to readily sacrifice himself to stop the Dominion’s forces from invading. At first the Prophet’s respectfully disagreed with him. The discussion if it could be called one carried out almost like a gaggle of parents arguing with a boundary pressing child. He was the Sisko. In their perspective there was no room for his recklessness.

 

Changing tactics Benjamin requested they interfere then if they had such a problem with his methods. At first the Prophets refused insisting that the corporeal matters of the Gamma and Alpha Quadrants plight was not their concern. Benjamin heartly encouraged them to reconsider. If for nothing else than for Bajor’s sake. If Corporeal matters really weren’t of interest to them than why had they bothered to interfere with the development of the Bajorans at all? Emissaries. Orbs. The entire Bajoran religion was centered around the Prophet’s who had only encouraged them all the way through.

 

In this Benjamin blew their claims entirely out of the water. If nothing else the Prophets did care about Bajor. Just as Benjamin did. They didn’t want him to die and neither did he. It stood to reason that if the Prophets wanted to be gods than it was up to them to act like gods and help him pull off a miracle capable of saving them all.

 

Called out on their bullshit the Prophets had no choice but to act. For a price.

 

Benjamin hadn’t really caught what penance they expected to extract from him but if it meant stopping the Dominion, he simply didn’t give a damn about what it was.

 

Upon the conclusion of this confrontation Benjamin was dumped back into his reality without so much as a drop od sweat left out of place. Faced once more with thousands of Dominion ships, Benjamin and his crew prepared to take out as many as they could before they we’re destroyed.

 

And then suddenly the ships simply disappeared as if they had never existed.

 

It wasn’t a cloaking trick.

 

The ships had genuinely vanished right before their eyes.

 

“Then…Where did they go?” A bewildered Garak inquired as Dax confirmed the lack of neutrino emissions that should have been present cloacked or not.

 

“Wherever they went,” Benjamin began softly. “I don’t think their coming back.”

 

On the opposite side of the wormhole Dukat and his minions looked on with the taste of victory in their mouths as they saw the Defiant blink on through and appear on their side of the wormhole. Any second now they would be greeted by the sight of thousands of Cardassian-Dominion ships.

 

The ships never materialized and instead the wormhole snapped shut and seemingly closed on its own accord.

 

There was nothing. Nothing now except for the Defiant mercilessly bearing down on them.

 

“The Defiant has opened fire on us!” Someone yelled.

 

“Obviously!” Weyoun replied bracing himself as the station shook around them.

 

Thanks to the earlier sabotage the stations weapons were still offline had would not be coming back on anytime soon. Plus, other ships were coming. Two hundred to be exact that had broken through the front line. In seconds Dukat’s victorious standing was being obliterated.

 

“Time to start packing.” Weyoun muttered in wide eyed optimism. He was ever the optimist even in the face of unforgivable failure.

 

“Contact our forces in the Alpha Quadrant.” The female changeling ordered. “Tell them to fall back to Cardassian Territory. It appears this war is going to take longer than expected.”

 

“We’ll meant you at Airlock 5.” Weyoun remarked dismissively as he and the female changeling departed.

 

“Victory was in our grasp! Bajor, the Federation, the Alpha Quadrant all lost.” Dukat dramatically soliloquy-ed unable to fully process what was happening. “I have to find my daughter.”

 

At this he fled at the protest of Damar who knew better in this instance what Dukat was going to face when and if he did find his daughter. Damar knew she would never go with them. Never. She was the enemy, Dukat was simply too blind to see it.

 

As Weyoun made way for the Founder to enter the evacuation pod first he had the foresight to ask after Odo.

 

“What about Odo. Is he coming with us?” Weyoun asked hopefully.

 

“No.” The Founder said regrettably as if she was speaking to a young child. “But he will join us one day. It’s only a matter of time.  Have our enemies been resecured?”

 

“Uhm. Yes and no. We were only able to secure three. We couldn’t find Major Kira or Mr. Quark. But Jake Sisko, the Ferengi Rom and the Bajoran woman Leeta proved no challenge for our forces to apprehend. They will pay deftly for their interference in this business. We of course excluded Ziyal. I thought it not prudent to apprehend the obviously naive girl given that she is Dukat’s daughter.”

 

 “Very well. Upon our departure, please initiate security protocol 21166 B.” The Female Founder replied and then disappeared ahead of him.

 

“Of course.” Weyoun bowed and followed her.

In another part of the station Dukat finally found Ziyal. Despite all their misunderstanding Ziyal was the single purest thing in his life now that his wife and other children had abandoned him on Cardassia as punishment for the girl’s existence. Dukat loved her above everything else. She was the only thing that outshined his own egotistical ambition and he needed to ensure she was safe.

 

“Father! I’ve been looking for you. I heard about the evacuation.” Ziyal called out when she caught sight of her near feral father stalking the halls desperately looking for her.

 

“You’re all I have,” He interrupted her as he cradled her in an almost too tight embrace. “All I care about.”

 

“No mater how much I try to hate you, I can’t.” Ziyal said heartily.

 

“I couldn’t live with myself if you hated me.” Dukat pressed his ridged forehead into his beloved daughter’s. “Come. We’ll talk on the way home.”

 

“Home?” Ziyal said in confusion as he tried to pull her along bringing them to a abrupt halt.

 

“Cardassia. We have to leave here, Ziyal. Before the Federation arrives. These people are our enemies.” Dukat reasoned hastily.

 

“They’re not my enemies. I’m one of them.” Ziyal said imploringly as her father shook his head in protest. “Father. I helped Major Kira and the others escape from the holding cells.”

 

It was a blow nothing could have prepared Dukat for as he grew deathly quiet. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

 

“Yes. I do. I belong here.” Ziyal momentarily cradled her father’s face in her hand. “Goodbye, Father.”

 

Ziyal broke away then and began to leave only to stop at the last minute to turn around and say one final thing to her father. “I love you.”

 

This nearly broke Dukat and he was compelled to once again approach her and tell her in return that he loved her back. That no matter what he was proud that she was his daughter.

 

And then the unthinkable happened.

 

A phaser beam shot out between them striking Ziyel in the abdomen.

 

The beam was a killing shot.

 

“No!!!!” Dukat shrieked as he spun around to see Damar of all people still holding his weapon out in front of him and shaking.

 

“She’s a traitor.” Damar said furiously.

 

Spinning back around Dukat caught his daughter as her knees began to buckle. “No. It alright. I forgive you.”

 

The words were all wrong but they were all Dukat could manage to utters as he lowered his beloved child to the floor. Had there been other around. Medical personal. Anyone. Maybe she might have stood a fraction of a chance. But as Damar pulled at his arm demanding that he leave with him, Ziyal’s fate was sealed.

 

“Please. Please hear me.” He pleaded after shaking Damar off him. “I love you, Ziyal. No, no!”

 

And just like that the purest most innocent and beloved good thing in his world was gone and along with her the last descent strand holding Dukat together broke and died along with her.

 

Within the hour the station had been retaken and the Cardassians and Dominion forces were gone.

 

Benjamin and the crew of the defiant returned to the fanfare of the fellow allies, loved ones and friends. It should have been a glorious triumph. It was a glorious triumph for everyone involved.

 

“Welcome back, Captain.” Odo greeted Benjamin as he walked through the crowd grasping at his hand to shake.

 

Slowly the reunions began.

 

Everyone seemed to be there waiting for them. Until they began to realize that not everyone was there.

 

The first to sound the alarm was Garak.

 

“Ziyal she’s not here.” He said coming up to Benjamin’s arm. “Come to think of it I don’t see major Kira or Jake either.”

 

“Huh. Actually, Major Kira is in the infirmary with Ziyal.” Odo offered.

 

At this Garak and Benjamin exchanged looks and Garak immediately dismissed himself without a word.

 

“Odo?” Benjamin inquired.

 

“There have been some developments. As far as we can tell sometime during the evacuation of the Dominion occupiers. Ziyal was shot by Damar presumably for her involvement in the sabotage efforts that helped take out the station’s weapons system. We found Dukat out of his wits huddled over her body. I’m sorry but there was nothing we could do. I need to also inform you that Jake, Rom and Leeta are missing. We have reason to believe they were apprehended and taken off the station when the Founder and Weyoun fled.”  Odo explained. “I’m sorry, Captain. We’re doing everything we can to track them down.”

 

Stunned and dismayed Benjamin turned and surveyed the room. He could see confused looks slowly growing on the faces of Quark and Nog.

 

“Wait a bit and gather the officers together along with Quark. I’ll inform them myself.”

 

~@~

 

“What do you mean they’ve been taken?” Julian explained not more than an hour later as they all gathered haphazardly in the conference room.

 

Most of the of the officers were out of uniform as they had been in the middle of various reveries that should have carried on long into the following days.

 

Instead, they were all there. Staring slack jawed and world weary into the gaping maw of a fresh nightmare scenario.

 

“We have evidence that they were apprehended separately and taken with the Dominion allies when they evacuated. We don’t know any thing else outside of the fact that they were on a transport bound for Cardassian-Dominion controlled space. In all honesty they could be anywhere by now.” Benjamin’s voice was low and distant.

 

“Obviously, we have to do something. Go after them.” Jadzia piped.

 

“A rescue mission cannot be our top priority. Besides, we don’t know where they are or how to track them and even if we did Starfleet won’t spare the resources.” Benjamin had wanted to say that Starfleet wasn’t willing to expend the resources to track down only three abducted civilians, but he refrained in order to preserve himself since one of those civilians just happened to be his son.

 

No one said anything because they were all thinking the same thing Ben was.

 

Fuck Starfleet. Fuck this war. Fuck the Cardassian and the Dominion. Fuck the whole fucking thing.

 

“Officially, there is nothing I can do.” Benjamin said, his rage and turmoil seething skin thin under the mask of his morose features. “Nothing we can do. Starfleet is tying our hands. Let it be known that as of right now everyone can speak freely. Nothing said here will leave this conference room.”

 

At this permission everyone seemed to groan in unison. Julian stood and nearly toppled his chair over as he angerly began to pace the room. Kira was staring blindly out one of the windows, Odo hovering near her as stone still as a statue.

 

Worf hadn’t arrived yet as he was conferencing with Martok, but Jadzia had sent him a written communication indicating he needed to get there as quickly as possible. The news of the situation was slowly spreading through the grapevine mostly because Quark was in near hysterics over the realization that half his family had been spirited to horrible places unknown. Nog was desperately trying to keep him under control. Always the steady one like his father.

 

“Well sod this.” Miles finally muttered out loud as he slowly swiveled his chair side to side and uncrossed his arms. “I don’t care what Starfleet says, we’ve got to do something.”

 

“Trust me chief, I am open to any and all suggestions.” Benjamin muttered.

 

“What about Martok? He was a prisoner of war held by the Dominion. He has experience with their abduction process and detainment practices at least as far as Interment Camp 371 went. Garak found it. I mean…Maybe we can use that as a lead.” Dax offered.

 

“You’re right. Call Worf and have him bring both Martok and Mr. Garak in. Major, please go find Nog and Quark. I think they deserve to be included in this conversation as well. Let’s move people.”

 

In record time almost everyone arrived at once. Everyone was aware of what was going on now as well. Not just the abduction but of the untimely death of Ziyal and the now captured and traumatized Dukat. The news of Ziyal was particularly shocking and weighed heavily on most of their minds along with everything else.

 

Garak arrived last.

 

On the surface the man seemed his normal self if a bit subdued considering everything that had happened. Most people were casually aware of his affection for Ziyal and those closer to the couple understood there were deeper emotions being played out between the two so when Garak appeared most nodded respectfully to him but none pried. Garak appreciate their unspoken sensitivity but, at the moment, he was finding it difficult to care why everyone had been called together so soon. A callous part of him couldn’t help but feel that Ziyal’s murder was just a little more devastating than a simple abduction or three. Though that was his grief talking. Had he been in a better frame of mind he would have at least sympathized with his friends and colleagues more than he presently did.

 

“Thank you for coming everyone. I’m not going to mince words. Please join us. The Dominion has taken people we care about and I want to get them back pronto. But we need information and support. This is strictly off the record. What do we need and how do we get it?”

 

“While the station was being occupied, we planted numerous surveillance bugs all over mostly to keep track of everything the Cardassians and Dominion were fiddling with. We can start there. There’s no audio but maybe someone said something we can analyze and find a hint about where they planned to take them.” Kira began.

 

“We know they can’t get back through the wormhole so they have to be heading into Cardassian controlled territory and most of that has been newly acquired.” Dax added. “We just need to know where they went.”

 

“Most of that territory belonged to the Klingon Empire. Now that the Romulan Star Empire has agreed to a nonaggression pact the Dominion would have free reign to travel that way and get to their strongholds on the edges of what was Klingon controlled space. The Dominion is very fond of imprisoning people. But I doubt they’d directly hold on to anyone they couldn’t use for further political gain. Still when I was captured there were a handful of us with no political ties so allow me to make it clear that I am not suggesting they are no longer alive. I simply suggest they were likely cast off as quickly as possible.” Martok offered, doing his level best to be as sensitive as possible.

 

“That’s it. They’re all dead. I knew this whole rebellion thing would end in tears.” Quark muttered manically.

 

“Don’t talk like that uncle.” Nog encouraged him firmly clasping him around the shoulder as he tried to comfort the panicked Ferengi.

 

“Well, I don’t believe that for a minute.” Garak sang. “If they wanted to kill them they certainly wouldn’t have bothered to take them with them, now would they? The more I see of the Dominion up close and personal the more I get the impression that they are a rather petty bunch, if you’ll excuse me being so blunt Mr. Odo. No. I think it’s far more likely they’ll stick them somewhere and forget about them or use them for their sick entertainment.”

 

Garak shuddered as he recalled how the Jem’hadar had used many of the prisoners for combat training while being detained in the asteroid Encampment of 371.

 

“I have to agree.” Worf said reluctantly. “The Dominion has no honor. They would not take our people if they did not plan to use them for something to appease their own interests.”

 

“It’s a place to start. I can’t spare my officers to investigate these possibilities. However, I don’t think anyone would object if non-Starfleet personal snooped around.” Benjamin remarked.

 

“Well, isn’t that a novel idea. A non-Starfleet affiliated crew going off on some wild goose chase to Cardassian-Dominion places unknown? Even if we had people willing to do it and we knew where we needed to go you’d absolutely still need a ship to get there. Preferably one that has both fire power and the ability to be less than conspicuous.” Garak rattled.

 

“Well, what about the Defiant? That has both a comprehensive weapon system and cloaking capabilities.” Nog suggested.

 

“That’s no good. There’s no way Starfleet would let the Defiant go like that plus it’s pretty well known now. One whiff of that ship and the Dominion would know exactly who was snooping around.” Miles remarked.

 

“Take one of mine if it comes down to it.” Martok offered. “I have so many wounded among my fleets we hardly have enough crews to go around. Consider it my retribution for the Dominion imprisoning me for those two years on that damn asteroid rock.”

 

“It’s a place to start. Let’s see what we can find on that footage and then we’ll go from there.” Benjamin said.

 

It didn’t take long to isolate the footage of the Founder leaving the station with Weyoun. Imaging analysis had managed to work out what they had been saying to each other, but the meaning was lost on them.

 

Initiate security protocol 21166 B.

 

After the surveillance was analyzed they all reconvened.

 

“What are we thinking?” Benjamin asked the group looking for all theories.

 

“The term Security Protocol is a dead giveaway. They used the term often to reference Internment Camp 371. If I had to wager, I’d say they’re definitely sending them to be held somewhere. But we have no way of knowing how many space bound prison camps are scattered throughout the various quadrants so they could be anywhere.”

 

Nog groaned. “If my father were here, he would figure it out. He was always good at these kind of things.”

 

Jadzia who had been sitting next to Nog reached out and squeezed his hand compassionately.

 

“What if it’s not a compound on some asteroid? What if it’s a planet? It’s possible that those numbers are coordinates of some kind. After all they would have to be able to differentiate them somehow, wouldn’t they?” Julian supplied.

 

“There is some weight to that possibility. When Mr. Worf and I were being detained on that god-forsaken asteroid, Tain told me that he suspected the camp was really just a hold over and he remarked that some of the prisoners would occasionally disappear. Usually, civilians and unimportant persons. I merely assumed those prisoners were being killed but it’s possible they were simply moved. Tain died believing more of his people were alive out there somewhere and I happen to agree with him.” Garak couldn’t resist contributing.

 

 Even with his internal suffering Garak had promised himself and Tain that he would never stop looking for other survivors and the situation at hand was a perfect buoy of potential hope and direction to that end not to mention a tantalizing distraction. Three things he was privately in desperate need of just then.

 

“But where?” Both Kira and Dax inquired in unison.

 

“Oh! Oh! I know! I know! It’s gotta be the Beta quadrant, right? That’s gotta be what the letter stands for. Check. Check if there are any planets fitting that quadrant identifier.” Nog insisted, no one missed how much he sounded like his father just than when Rom had one of his lightening bolt breakthroughs that always seemed almost psychic.

Everyone with a data pad in had hurriedly tried to look up the identifier.

 

Of course, Julian was faster than them all.

 

“He’s right. There is a planet in the Beta Quadrant at that reference.” Julian muttered, his face paling slightly.

 

“Yeah, and there aren’t in any of the others.” Jadzia pointed out.

 

“Which planet?” Benjamin asked slowly.

 

“It’s…Uh. Rura Penthe.” Julian swallowed hard.

 

 

Shock seemed to reverberate through half the room.

 

 

“The alien graveyard.” Benjamin clarified.

 

 

“Why the hell is it called that?” Kira asked ignorantly.

 

 

“More than seventy years ago Rura Penthe was a well-established penal colony for enemies and traitors of the Klingon Empire. Few if any who were housed there lived long. Set up as a dilithium mining installation the planetoid was nothing short of a frozen hellscape. Though run by Klingons, even our people saw the overseeing of the installation as a punishment. The planet was mined out or if not mined out completely than too much of a nuisance to bother with perhaps thirty years ago and the penal colony was abandoned.  I cannot say what became of the prisoners there. In more recent times the Beta Penthe System was lost to the Dominion. A small loss though a loss nevertheless for the Klingon Empire. The whole system is more or less uninhabitable, but it was still ours.”

 

 

“So we have an idea of the where and how to get there.” Benjamin mused.

 

 

“Now we just need a crew.” Dax finished his thought.

 

 

It was unnecessary to remark that whatever crew they scrapped together would have to be non-Starfleet officers. Although, since Julian was a medical officer there was room to make an argument or at least a justification after the fact that medical intervention had been required and that Julian just happened to be the closest doctor available. The Hippocratic Oath was sometimes very useful for these kind of off the cuff, plausible deniability kind of missions.

 

“I suppose that’s my cue to volunteer.” Garak chirped. “I am after all the only one here not in a uniform.”

 

“Count me in too.” Kira muttered. “I want my friends back besides Leeta’s Bajoran. Despite the non-aggression agreement, the Bajoran government will quietly lend their support.”

 

 

“Or at the very least look the other way.” Benjamin mused.  

 

 

“That’s two. You’ll need at least three more.” Nog muttered, sullen that he couldn’t be included in the business.

 

 

At that the conference room door opened and Quark appeared. When the other had briefly scattered trying to uncover more information Quark had reluctantly left to check on the state of his bar. Given his fine Vulcan hearing it was unclear if he’s managed to glean from behind the door what they’d been discussing.

 

“Smells like a party going on in here.” Quark muttered slyly. “Mind if I join in?”

 

 

After Nog hastily caught his uncle up, Quark hemmed. “Well, if anybody thinks I’m just going to sit around here and wait for my family to magically reappear, they’ve got another thing coming.”

 

“I’m sorry Captain but if those two plan to take a barrowed Klingon ship into Cardassian-Dominion territory I would be remise if I didn’t go along to keep an eye on them.” Odo muttered glaring mostly at Quark but exchanging a respectful nod in Garak’s direction as well.

 

 

Benjamin sighed. It would hurt to spar both Kira and Odo but in comparison to the agony of the thought of never seeing his son again, Benjamin was sure he’d find a way to cope with the loss of such competent personnel.

 

 

“I’m afraid I must agree with you.” Martok muttered. “Besides, regardless of who is occupying that sector right now, it was and ever will be part of the Klingon Empire and I intend to get a little of our own back if I can. Captain, if you agree I will spearhead this mission.”

 

“I couldn’t think of a better choice.” Benjamin muttered in a tone that held both a silent plea and well as a thank you.

 

Armed now with a means the group began to discuss their plan. While it was possible that all of this was a wild goose chase, it was the only thing resembling a lead that they had and deep down everyone present couldn’t help but believe they were right about their suspicions.

Notes:

[1] “The Price of Success” is a rewrite of the Episode “Sacrifice of Angels” (DS9/S6/E6). Some aspects were taken directly from the episode and or paraphrased for the purposes of this story.

Chapter 59: The Meaning of Family

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Meaning of Family

 

Gaven remained in his room convalescing without disturbance for three weeks. While his injuries were not remotely grievous, that was exactly the amount of time he needed to process everything that had happened since he’s arrived on Vulcan and to get over the more jagged edges of his confused and mixed feelings about all of it.

 

By the end of that time Gaven had diluted his feelings down into a handful of key admissions and ideas. The rest was, as far as he was concerned, inconsequential.

 

First and foremost, regardless of any deceit involved on any side of things, Gaven felt with complete conviction that he had done the right thing even if others had not. Despite not speaking to anyone since he’d been put back in his bed three weeks ago, Gaven was still in close enough proximity to Jyrrus to sense his happiness and by extension T’Yel’s as well. He could sense them both now. Not as completely as he could Jyrrus if he tried, but enough to get a sense of their general wellbeing as a couple. He could also sense when they were thinking of him.

 

The awareness of this came often and felt strangely comforting. They could have chosen to exclude him entirely after all, just as he could have barred them from his mind and systematically purged everything that he had felt about his experiences with them so far.

 

Gaven didn’t believe in purging his experiences though, even when they were painfully disruptive to him. His feelings around Jyrrus and T’Yel weren’t painful or even resentful by this point. If anything, specifically where Jyrrus was concerned, they were confused.

 

“Jyrrus, I think it is time that you talk to him.” T’Yel said firmly one morning as she set his breakfast plate before him and went back to serving up her own portion of something that resembled porridge with colorful edible flows sprinkled in that tasted sweet and floral when chewed.

 

“Doctor Ore does not want to speak to me. When he is ready, he will tell me so.” Jyrrus replied wearily as he propped one fist under the curve of his ear and throat, it was a boyish position he had held since childhood when eating.

 

“Jyrrus. You are his greatest friend. It is illogical to think that he would not wish to speak to you if given the direct opportunity. You are avoiding him intentionally. It does a disservice to you both. Talk to him today. He needs you to be his friend now more than ever. He has no one else. He…” T’Yel paused. “He is part of our family now. It is your responsibility to help him understand what that means.”

 

Jyrrus sighed. “You are correct as always in these matters, beloved. I will speak to him.”

 

A faint smile of satisfaction hinted at the edges of her mouth. Jyrrus had always deferred to her council in the past. He had always been an awkward uncertain man when it came to expressing his own feelings and thoughts. But when it mattered most, he was also the most delicate and discerning person she knew. It was the reason he was a good ambassador when the Vulcan Government bothered to utilize his skills for diplomacy. The things that made Jyrrus weak and unsuitable in the eyes of his Vulcan peers were the very things that made him so remarkable among outside cultures that required a more emotional perspective to successfully communicate with and understand.

 

“Jyrrus, if a probable opportunity happens to arise perhaps for once you should do more than just talk to him. He is our Consort.” T’Yel reminded him pointedly. Her tone not only suggested permission but also demanded compliance.

 

Jyrrus coughed, briefly choking on the spoonful of porridge he’d been polishing off his plate.

 

Although she had used Gaven’s title what she had really meant to say was that while Gaven was their Consort, more specifically, he was Jyrrus’s T’hy’la. The depth and importance of their general friendship was undeniable and easily blurred into a kind of masculine kind of brotherhood in its dedication. That much was obviously and openly acknowledged between all of them. Gaven and Jyrrus we’re not and had never been lovers, however. A point of fact that had mostly been a justified element of avoidance on both their parts. Jyrrus had T’Yel and Gaven…Well, Gaven had the ghost of his Bondmate Lopel and his now consummated relationship with Doctor Julian Bashir. Never mind that the nature of the doctors dynamic was presently on hiatus now that the war was on.

 

“I will…Take it under consideration.” Was all Jyrrus said to her once he recovered himself.

 

 

~@~

 

Although Gaven did not leave his quarters he did frequently walk down the connected corridor within his rooms to the open air balcony when he need a change of scenery. The balcony was quite high up and offered a deep view of the surrounding canyon, craigs, and rock formations that were a part of the region’s natural topography. The seemingly endless walls of the canyon were soothing to him in their vastness. The balcony also afforded him a way to monitor some of the comings and going of the temple of Kar as one of the smaller access points was within his view. Often in the early mornings Gaven would sit out on the balcony eating his cobbled together meals for the last three weeks he's been sustaining on an assortment of dehydrated fruit of vegetable staples. Most of which he didn't bother to season. It was all nourishing enough. Today he had settled on a bowl of hard biscuits softened in a bowl of Jasmine tea. The combination reminded him of Julian.

 

To his deep frustration Gaven had yet to hear any specific news from the frontlines. However, he knew almost on instinct that the Federation's losses were high and spaced across many of their allies.

 

Mostly though his thoughts were centered specifically on those he had known while on Deep Space Nine. Not just Julian but all his friends. At this stage Gaven felt he had an invested interest in all their lives and it frustrated him to no end to be excluded from the observation of the minutia of their lives.

 

Upon first arriving on Vulcan, Gaven had been determined to go promptly back once his assistance and presence was no longer required. But this had changed now. Although he thought often about his distant friends out on the Frontier, he felt them to be well out of his reach possibly forever. The thought was depressing and had been just one of many reasons Gaven had chosen to keep to his rooms. At least here on Vulcan there was a sense of purpose to grasp onto. Although for the life of him Gaven wasn't entirely certain what that purpose was meant to entail, and he had not had the strength of spirit to seek out any further information than he already had.

 

Finishing his biscuits, Gaven lifted the bowl slowly to his mouth with both hands and drank down its contents in steady sips. The floral flavor of the Jasmine was comforting on his tongue and the still warm temperature of the tea was rejuvenating.

 

Gaven eventually ambled back down the corridor into his rooms proper and set his bowl delicately down on the table. He would wash and put it away later. Usually by this time in the morning he meditated and then sat down to compose another communication inquiry about the status of his various friends. Gaven had been alternating the messages to both Deep Space Nine and to his connections on Earth. Jeremiah had been kind enough to give Gaven his forwarding address for when he arrived back on Earth should he be so inclined to correspond and at this point Earth was a great deal Closer to Vulcan than the Space Station was. So far, his detailed letters to Fisk had not garnered any returns either but he'd only been writing for the last few weeks and there was still a considerable delay even in messages going out to nearby planets. Still, if nothing else his letter to Fisk allowed Gaven the opportunity to relate his feelings and experiences. He wrote extensively about Julian to Fisk as well as a detailed account of what had happened since arriving back on Vulcan. Gaven had to be able to confide in someone. Even if a return on his messages was not forthcoming.

 

Today though something interrupted his usual solitary routine.

 

Just as he was settling down to his meditations a hesitant knock sounded at the old-fashioned entry door to his rooms.

 

Gaven froze a moment and waited for the knock to repeat.  When the knock sounded again it was more insistent and Gaven forced himself to answer.

 

"Please, directly come in. It's not locked." Gaven said loudly as he remained seated upon the open floor. The fabric of his lightweight robe pooling around his crossed legs obscuring a good portion of his body.

 

The door eventually clicked and slid to the side admitting his guest. Unsurprisingly it was Jyrrus.

 

Gaven resisted the temptation to fix his eyes on anything other than the younger Vulcan and looked up at him determined to meet Jyrrus’s eyes without shame or accusation.

 

The two stared at each other for a long moment before Gaven finally broke the deafening silence between them by speaking first.

 

"Jyrrus. Good morning. Are you well?" The question sounded flat and brittle on his tongue as well as unfamiliar since it was the first words Gaven had spoken out loud since he'd shut himself up.

 

"I am well, Doctor. Are you?" Jyrrus asked remaining near the door as he kept the middle table between them.

 

"No." Gaven admitted baldly. Pretense between them was rather pointless at this point.

 

There was an elongated pause between them once more before Jyrrus finally screwed up his nerve to engage further in a dialogue. "My mother is apt to believe that it is never healthy for one to remain too consistently in doors. Perhaps I could persuade you to come walking with me down into the valley for the benefit of the exercise and a change of space?" 

 

Gaven opened his mouth briefly at the request and then just as quickly shut it. "Fine."

 

Their progress out of the temple and down into the arid valley bellow was slow and for the bulk of the journey neither of them spoke.  When they finally reached the lowest point Jyrrus finally began to speak.

 

"You have been unapproachable for a long time now. While I do not fault your desire for privacy, I must tell you that it concerns me that you have chosen to remain in seclusion." Jyrrus saw no reason to start off soft.

 

"I'm sorry. I've needed time to think, and I thought it best to perhaps give you and T'Yel time together. It seems to me that most newlyweds enjoy having a healthy amount of time to themselves. Tell me, is it everything that you both hoped it would be?" Gaven inquired not unkindly.

 

"We are content." Jyrrus conceded.  "Everything is as it should be between us."

 

"I see. Well, it appears our mission has been a great success. I am beyond happy for you both. I..." Whatever else Gaven was planning to politely say was swiftly cut off by Jyrrus.

 

"As I said, everything is as it should be between T'Yel and I. It is what has transpired between you and I that concerns me now." Jyrrus interrupted.

 

"There is nothing between us that I am disquieted about. You are alive and well and that is what matters to me." Gaven said, though his tone was mildly defensive.

 

"While I accept your sentiment Doctor, I cannot claim to feel the same. There is much that has happened between us that is disquieting to me. Please do not demure and allow me to address them." Jyrrus requested firmly.

 

Gaven pressed his lips but did not object and they continued to walk together in parallel with a respectable space between them. Both their hands hidden within the sleeves of their robes.

 

"When I decided to come to Deep Space Nine, it was my true intention to act in my official capacity as an ambassador and help you with the exchange of information regarding your pod and the study of Poly radiation. It was also my intention to put the unorthodox nature of our past connection aside. But I admit now, that before the opportunity arose to engage you again I had frequently thought to seek you out for personal reasons in order to investigate the residual psychic connection between us that seemed to linger long after we had parted. The experience, the initial melding of our minds, was supposed to serve as nothing more than an exchange of information. And yet it became apparent over the many preceding months after that my sense of connection to you did not weaken and began to interfere with my life and personal relationships. I often found himself dwelling on you, on your experiences. The very nature of who and what you were. In all that time I tried to distance myself from you and to remove you from my thoughts entirely. But when I saw that you had included me on the contact roster, I felt...Compelled to see you again. In all this time you have never sufficiently explained to me why it was that you included my name at all." Jyrrus remarked.

 

Gaven shut his eyes as they walked. It was true that he had never really elaborated on his reasoning for creating an avenue for Jyrrus to return to his life. They had never fully discussed it at length outside of a general agreement that they both had personal reasons for embracing the opportunity that had been presented to them to reconnect.

 

"I thought about you too. Often, after we parted. Agreeing to come to Deep Space Nine and collaborate with Starfleet was a difficult decision for me. For a long time, I felt so alone. Almost no one knew who I really was and even if they had, what good could it do me? I was a alien from a world no one knew anything significant about. When Captain Sisko encouraged me to make a list of my contacts on Vulcan the only people I could really think of was Sha'el and you. Deep down I wanted, I hoped to see someone who knew me as I really was and had been." He explained.

 

Jyrrus sighed, exhaling out of his nose.

 

"You needed me." Jyrrus summarized for him.

 

Gaven opened his eyes once more. "I think we needed each other. Even back then I considered you a dear and trusted friend."

 

Jyrrus nodded. "We will always be friends Doctor, although I consider the word is grossly inadequate now. It was greatly disturbing for me to realize how much you still suffered during the length of our estrangement.  It was nearly as great in some respects to when I had first met you and while physically and even mentally you were far more robust by then I could sense you were still uncertain of the value of your life."

 

Gaven scoffed, remembering. Some of their past conversations on the station had been so foolish on his part. But Jyrrus had always listened. He had always known what Gaven needed someone to say to him in order to keep him going. Jyrrus had the privilege of saying things to Gaven that no one else knew to say to him.

 

They walked in silence after that for a long time. Until they approached the point in the valley that butted up to an expansive basin. The mouth of the basin was the most shaded of any other area by the height of the cliffs around them. While there was almost no water in the region to speak of outside of distant and wide rivers that flaked the far-off landscape and that had once helped to form the existing topography of where they were now, there was one exception.

 

In this shaded place was a single body of salt water that curved out of sight for some miles. At its deepest point the lake was approximately seventy feet below sea level and was regularly fed by some deep under water current that was all that remained of the salt water sea that had once encompassed the entire region. Near the edge of the lake was a wide weeping tree. It's sparse canopy wider than the tree was tall. In spite of the sea water that nurtured it the tree seemed to begrudgingly thrive. It's rough leaves a strangled pink tone against an alabaster trunk that almost glittered in the light. It was Jyrrus's favorite place and the same location he had once fought about Gaven with T'Yel.

 

"It's beautiful here." Gaven remarked finally pulling back the hood of his robe to inhale the salt that was wafting on the breeze all around them off the nearby water.

 

"Yes. T'Yel and I have often discussed building a home here. It has always been a special place to us." Jyrrus explained.

 

"I think you should." Gaven encouraged Jyrrus softly.

 

"We've been discussing other things as well more recently. Visions of our future. Of our family." Jyrrus went on. "It is probable that in the distant future T'Yel will assume my mother's place as high priestess of the temple of Kar. But that is likely extremely far off. In the meantime, we would like to carve out a place of our own together here. A place only for our family. For our future children and for you."

 

"For me?" Gaven's face screwed up in mild confusion.

 

"You are a member of our family now. I would of course include you. It is your choice to remain with us here on Vulcan but as with all our family we would, we do want you with us so far as you are willing to remain. If not in body, then in spirit." Jyrrus said quickly.

 

"You both want me here? I thought T'Yel hated me? Feared me, even." Gaven protested more on T’Yel’s behalf than his own.

 

Pulling back his own hood Jyrrus turned to face him. "She feared what she did not understand and know. She does not fear you anymore. She could not and would not accept you before in her ignorance, but she can and does now. You are presently as much a hero to her as you have ever been to me."

 

"Jyrrus I can't stay here with you." Gaven muttered through a frown half turning away and shaking his hand in Jyrrus direction as if he were trying to ward him away. "It would be...Disruptive. As much for me as it would be for you." 

 

"Will you explain to me why?" Jyrrus asked patiently.

 

"You want me to explain it to you? Jyrrus, you know perfectly well why." Gaven was beginning to hyperventilate in his exasperation of the Vulcan. "You...Favor me. It's so much more than just some telepathic bond between us. This entire farce of a mission is rooted in some...Some deeper sentiment that you've allowed yourself to get carried away with and caught up in and... It’s my fault."

 

Jyrrus's eyes narrowed at this familiar rhetoric. "There is no intrinsic fault in loving others, doctor. Why can you not accept the possibility that the regard you speak so abstractly of is genuinely a matter of love?  I do not favor you. I simply love you. Albeit differently than I love others."

 

"Because it isn't real. I... would never know for sure if it was real." Gaven's tone was defeated. "People don't just mind meld or link or whatever parapsychic anomaly you want to use and fall in love. What you interpret as love in that context is just a mind dump of a lifetime of residual feelings that aren't even yours. My memories have tainted your own interpretation of what you know and feel. Familiarity and the deep empathy of psychic bonding should not be mistaken for natural love and admiration. As a Vulcan you should understand that better than most."

 

"You are wrong." Jyrrus insisted. "And even if your theory was initially correct, which it is not, it does not exclude the legitimacy of how I feel and I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped constantly trying to invalidate my feelings for you."

 

"What do you expect of me then?" Gaven fumed.

 

"I expect you to be honest for once about what you actually want and feel. You are so busy trying to deny and invalidate what I feel and know to be true that you manage to seamlessly avoid facing your own truths. Tell me. If I had come to Deep Space Nine unattached and admitted my growing regard for you, would you have considered reciprocating my overtures? Would you have entertained overtures of your own? Gaven, please. Tell me the truth. I will feel it if you lie to me."

 

Gaven pursed his lips. In the back of his mind, he could hear the faint echo of Lopel's voice haunting him from beyond the grave.

 

Is there really no one you will allow into your world? Lopel had asked.

 

His answer had been Jyrrus Cheval the only person of his acquaintance literally able to step into his inner world.

 

Gaven swallowed hard. "I was...Relieved when you came to the station. You were always so patient, so unassuming and understanding. When I couldn't be honest with anyone else, least of all myself you helped me see the truth and gave me the confidence to express it. The Oum bond through our psychic linking process. With another compatible subjects our connection to another is capable of being so much more than merely a biological empathy. I admit that if things had been different...If we'd just been two unattached people thrown together by circumstance and out of a sense of mutual regard... I would have embraced that. I still ache, Jyrrus. All the time. I ache because of the absence of something that has always eluded me. Always. And yes, I can admit that the only time that ache has really ever gone away is when I'm near you.  I can admit that I am capable of love. I admit that with you it would be easier than with most to give myself over to it all. I've loved so many, Jyrrus. And likely been loved equally as much but it always ends the same. Loss and pain. Pain and loss. I...I am tired of hurting all the time."

 

"I cannot remove your suffering. Whatever wounds you harbor within you, real or imagined, are your own. But as long as you are willing to let me in you will never have to face your suffering alone. I am not asking you to consider me now as anything more than your friend, confidant, and available companion when you need one. But I do love you Gaven. My love is tangible. It is physically and emotionally real. So now that you know, now that I have said all I can about it to you I will ask you again something I asked you once before. What is it that you want for yourself?" Jyrrus asked.

 

Gaven stared at Jyrrus wearily, defiantly. "I don't know."

 

The words were untrue and they both knew it.

 

Finally, Jyrrus lost his patience. "Wrong answer, Doctor."

 

Shaking his head as if he were dealing with an obstinate child Jyrrus closed the space between them and without any warning shoved Gaven hard in the chest causing him to stumble a foot or two backward.

 

"Jyrrus what the hell-" Gaven was promptly cut off as Jyrrus came slowly towards him. "Let us try again. What do you want for yourself?"

 

"Jyrrus, I told you I don't know-" Again Jyrrus came at him and again Gaven was unceremoniously shoved backwards.

 

"Come on, Doctor. I am prepared to do this all day until we understand each other." Jyrrus warned him.

 

"Stop it." Gaven muttered crossly.

 

At his continued resistance Jyrrus came at him again but this time Gaven was ready and when Jyrrus tried to lean into his shove Gaven broke the kinetic flow of energy with his own arms pinwheeling defensively in a blocking maneuver.

 

To this Jyrrus simply began to spar with him openly which resulted in Gaven finally getting frustrated enough to pull him into a bear hug which successfully prevented Jyrrus from swiping at him but left Gaven hot footing it around as Jyrrus did his best to trip him up. They struggled for a while in a tangle of arms and legs before Gaven felt sun warmed water begin to beat at his ankles. It appeared that Cheval had been slowly pushing him towards the lake and between the give of the wet sand under his heels and the efforts of Jyrrus to trip him up and gain an advantage it was only a matter of time before Gaven finally lost his balance and sent them both twisting and rolling about in the shallows of the saltwater lake.

 

Even though Gaven was technically stronger and taller than Jyrrus, in water Jyrrus had a clear advantage and now that he had Gaven off balance he began to nudge them deeper into the lake their robes quickly becoming heavy and waterlogged almost to a hazardous degree.

 

"Tell me what you want. Say it, Gaven." Jyrrus demanded in between mouthfuls of water which he spat out as quickly as he could in order to be heard clearly.

 

"Right now, I want to drown you in this damnable lake, you lunatic!" Gaven growled as he was dragged further out.

 

They were now nearly waist deep but with their tousling they were practically neck deep in the water. Realizing he was quickly losing all control of the situation Gaven began ripping at his robe trying to wriggle out of it in the water. If he could get himself free of its encumbrance maybe he could throw Jyrrus off him and end this madness.

 

Jyrrus though was already well ahead of him and already had his own robe nearly all the way off. They scuffled for a good while in the water until Jyrrus finally got Gaven in a body hold he couldn't get out of.

 

"Stop fighting me and just answer my question." Jyrrus demanded close to Gaven’s ear.

 

Breathing heavily Gaven began to stop struggling. "I just want it all to stop being so hard!"

 

Slowly the fight went out of Gaven and though his body began to go limp Jyrrus kept a tight hold on him.

 

"Please let me in, Gaven. You have done so much for me. You have stood by me at every turn. Allow me to do the same for you. That is what families do. Regardless of how either of us feel you are a part of me now. Apart of our life here. You can embrace as much or as little of it as you want but it will always be here for you." Jyrrus said soothingly into Gaven's ear as he held him more supportively now then restrictively.

 

"All I want Jyrrus is a sense of Home. A replacement for a people that can no longer accept me as one of their own. I want a future for myself that I've chosen. " Gaven nearly whispered.

 

Finally feeling him fully let go, Jyrrus nodded against the back of Gaven's neck and slowly began to tug him back in the direction of the shore.

 

As they slowly crawled out of the water. Their robes lost behind them they eventually collapsed practically naked together on the damp shore. Despite himself, Gaven pressed his pounding temple into the cool wetted sand beneath him and nuzzled it. It had been so long since he's been on solid ground. How he had missed the feeling of tangible geosphere against his skin.

 

They laid there in the sandy muck exhausted. Both emotionally and physically pushed to their limits.   

 

"Well that was dramatic." Gaven eventually heaved.

 

"Shut up, Doctor. You have said and done more than enough to appease me for today." Jyrrus muttered onto the sky.

 

"I guess you’re right. Friends?" Gaven offered.

 

"Friends." Jyrrus thudded him lightly in the back with the back of his hand.

 

The stayed that way for a long time. Gaven sprawled on his stomach and Jyrrus sprawled on his back. Their knees and part of their thighs still mostly submerged in the lukewarm water.

 

" I've been meaning to ask you. When we fought during the challenge, did I hurt you badly?" Jyrrus asked. His heartrate still high from the mutual exertion that was now turning into a kind of language between them.

 

"No. Nothing that didn't mend after the first several days or so. You did well during the challenge. I was proud of you after the fact." Gaven admitted.

 

Frowning, Jyrrus rolled gently onto his side. "For what it is worth, Doctor. I am sorry. About everything."

 

"Don't be." Gaven reassured him. "There is nothing that has happened between us that I actually regret. In many ways you have given me almost everything I wanted. Wouldn't you agree?  As your Consort I'm apart of you all now. Practically one of the family."

 

"Yes." Jyrrus agreed.

 

"Can I ask you something I've always wanted to know?" Gaven inquired softly.

 

Cheval nodded his consent.

 

"Most Vulcans I've met only have one name. You have two. Why?"

 

"My father's common name was Cheval. He was a simple Vulcan stone cutter. My parents carried on an affair. They were happy together. I doubt they planned to ever wed. He died a few years after I was born. A small earthquake caused a tunnel he was fleshing out to collapse. I hold the name in his honor and since many cultures beyond Vulcan observe first and last names, I find using both allows me to more easily interact with those cultures." Jyrrus explained.

 

"We don't have family monikers in the Oum culture. Identifiers like father, mother, brother, son. They simply don't exist. I have often thought in more recent times it has been to my people’s detriment to exclude them." Gaven mused.

 

"And now you are many of those things. Brother, son. As Consort you will be acknowledged as a surrogate father figure by my and T'Yel's children. It is as it should be." Jyrrus observed.

 

"Almost anyway." There was a ring of apology in Gaven's tone and something else, a tendril of the old unknown pain. But was it really pain? Or was it some deeper undefinable longing for something his cells craved but the rest of him had never fully achieved before.

 

Friend, brother, lover, Soulmate.

 

Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched.

Gaven worried his left cheekbone deeper into the wet sand beneath him nearly obstructing his ability to breath through his nose. The grit beneath his aggravated the still healing glad along the slits of one side of his abdomen causing a warm burning sensation to gather along his middle even against the cool wet underneath him.

 

Gaven eventually felt a hand grasp at his right shoulder and squeeze slowly as the attached arm stretches across his shoulder blade at an angle across his back.

 

‘Here in this place, you are not alone.’ The gesture seemed to say, ‘Even when we are far apart, I will never leave you and apart of you will always remain here safe with me.’

 

Gaven could feel Jyrrus staring at him likely propped up on one arm hovering over him. Ever patient and undemanding.  

 

Please let me in. Gaven knew without looking that was what he would see in Jyrrus’s too often despondent gaze.

 

And then as Gaven slowly sighed and turned is own face and body carefully over he saw the request for real in Jyrrus’s eyes piercing through him, demanding reasonable response.

 

As always Gaven meet Jyrrus’s eyes directly with his own and after only the briefest of deliberation he reached up with his right hand and smoothed the unruly hairs that had come out of place behind the Vulcan’s right ear then settled is finger along base of his skull. Digging the pads of his finger in just enough for Jyrrus to feel it caught in their locked gaze Gaven’s vision briefly blurred as he opened a two-way link.

 

Jyrrus’s gasped lightly and his left arm sudden came down hard across the expanse od Gaven’s bare chest gripping his bicep tightly. The line of Jyrrus’s mouth almost curled in a pained expression before he let out the breath he was holding and slowly relaxed his full weight into him.

 

Without breaking the link Gaven rug his palm and finger along the side of Jyruss’s Jawline to drag along the sharp rounded peak of his right cheek bone firmly rubbing away the slightly tactile moisture he felt there.

Jyrrus’s eyes were wide and glistening but only one more tear successfully escaped dropping fat and warm down the right side of his face and breaking at the crease along Gaven’s thumb.

 

Gaven felt Jyrrus’s neck muscles relax, and his shoulders go somewhat limp. There was nothing that was going to stop it now and neither of them cared just then and Gaven draw Jyrrus’s lips down and his own rose to meet in the middle in a chaste but excruciatingly tender kiss.

 

It was a kiss that said,

 

 ‘We are friends, we are brothers, we are lovers, we are soulmates.

 

We are a part of each other because we want to be and because we choose to be.”

 

 

Chapter 60: Remarking, The Lying Man with Nothing Left to Lose

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Prologue:  

Chapter Sixty: Remarking, The Lying Man with Nothing Left to Loss

 

The reconnaissance and potential rescue mission to Rura Penthe was a resounding disaster by almost everyone else’s standards except Elim Garak. Granted, while the margin of success or failure was sometime paper thin, any outcome resulting in Garak living another day was certainly desirable over the alternative.

 

More importantly the value of the information he had garnered out of their harrowing experience, although hard gained, had been worth every inconvenience and indignity involved. Against all odds Garak now knew for certain that there were several survivors of the Cardassian Fleet living quite successfully on Rura Penthe. He also knew that the Dominion was keen on letting them remain on the planet undisturbed so long as the Cardassian led Overlords who now ran the place were efficient about retrieving pertinent information from the various prisoners that were dumped there unceremoniously by the Dominion and their minions.

 

On a less interesting note, for him at least, their mission had been able to confirm the presence of any number of other occupants. Bajoran, Klingons, and Humans at the very least but that information had come at one particularly difficult loss. In a side mission to carve out holes in the magnetic shielding that obscured the exact size and details of the former penal colony as well as prevented any messages from going out or in unchecked, Doctor Julian Bashir had gone radio silent and was presumed captured or dead. To his credit he had at least been able to confirm the validity of what had brought them all there to begin with through a last ditch encrypted message he’d managed to get out before everything went dead and the magnetic field went back up in full.

 

The civilians Rom, Leeta, and Jake were on Rura Penthe and they were alive. Or at least they had been up until Martok’s ship had lost contact. At some point their presence had been discovered by Dominion controlled patrols that then made it their business to drive them out of the area like flies being shooed off a most tantalizing poo poo platter.

 

Before they’d been forced to cut and run for their lives, Garak had managed to send of some coded messages in the old Obsidian Order’s style through the traditional receiving routes of the planet’s communications that had garnered some unusual attention. The response he’d received back was something resembling a politely worded invitation to join in on all the fun and subterfuge if he managed to survive and ever found a way to come back to the planet again. However, tt was requested that in order to achieve safe entry onto the deplorable planet once he did return, Garak was expected to bring a housewarming present.

 

The sentiment was an old fashioned Cardassian term specifically among those in the subterfuge and torture business, indicating that if Garak wanted to be invited in he had to bring along a worthwhile specimen ripe for only the most entertaining of dissipations. To most sadistic agents of such discerning fields as Garak was dealing with that meant he needed to provide them with some tantalizing head meat to play with.

 

With so much to gain and so much at stake, well as far as Garak was concerned, the only reasonable thing to do was going to be to go back to Raru Penthe somehow and try, try, again.

 

Garak’s plan began to form almost immediately upon the assurance that he was, in fact, going to narrowly avoid being blown up as the Defiant and several Klingon ships converged on the boarder of the Cardassian-Dominion controlled territory in that region and assisted Martok and his crew in defending themselves long enough to limp the rest of the way back to their side of the chess board.

 

Most of the information Garak had discovered he kept to himself. It was possible that if he could ever break into this new network born out of the ashes of the old Obsidian Order, Garak might get one more chance to strike back at the Dominion where it would most hurt.

 

The trick would now be convincing Captain Sisko to let Garak try again. This time as an inside agent.

 

 The fact that there were possibly countless civilians and soldiers alive and presumably being held captive on the planet, aided Garak in his arguments. Where Starfleet was reluctant to get involved, they now had some much need leverage to convince certain members of the greater Federation to take a personal kind of interest in the planet.

 

In the end Garak’s assertion that Raru Penthe was alive and well as place where people got stuck when others wanted to forget about them, won out. Benjamin was given permission to put a new plan together. This one quietly sanctioned by various interested parties within the upper brass.

 

“I don’t like this, Garak.” Benjamin said pointedly as he conferenced with the spy. “I want my people back as much as anybody else, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t express that this sounds like a suicide mission. Even with Starfleet’s consent our resources are already stretched thin and it’s only by the grace of dumb luck that we got you all out of there the first time.”

 

“Ah yes, about that Captain. I think we are maybe looking at this little endeavor the wrong way. The answer to all our problems in this case isn’t more fire power, it’s less. Last time we went into the system unprepared. But the reality is that the sector is hardly being patrolled. The Dominion is not eager to protect whatever is really going on there and I find myself having to wonder why that is.” Garak pointed out.

 

“But we have evidence that the Dominion deals with them.” Benjamin noted.

 

“Yes. Like a business owner deals with a local mob to purchase protection. The question we have to ask ourselves is protection from who or what? Captain, Tain believed that members of the Cardassian fleet loyal to the former Obsidian Order survived out there somewhere. You should know better than most how hard some Cardassians are to kill.” Garak was almost sure that images of Dukat and Damar sprung up in both their minds. Although Garak had proven time and again to be no push over in his own right when it came to survival.

 

“What exactly are you proposing?” Benjaminsmuttered as he rocked in his chair with a quiet measured expression on his face.

 

“Let me go back. Just me and a tiny little shuttle with cloaking capabilities.” Garak simply requested.

 

“You plan to knock on their front door like this is the three little pigs and you’re the wolf.” Benjamin surmised.

 

“Woof.” Garak quipped.

 

“With what incentive?” Benjamin mused.

 

“What? You don’t think I’m incentive enough? Well, in that case I suppose I better find someone to bring along to help make things a little more interesting, hm?” Garak demurred.

 

Of course he already had someone in mind. Given all the players involved he could only think of one other person available who would have enough invested interest in the situation to help him. Quid pro quo, and all that.

 

~@~

 

The days passed slowly, serenely, even pleasantly on Mount Selenya.

 

Gaven and Cheval exchanged a complex interlude only once to solidify where they stood with each other in the new order of their lives before Gaven receded once more into the background. Preferring to allow Jyrrus and T’Yel to continue with their domestic bliss without his further interference.

 

With little pressing on any of them with the exception of far-off worries over a war they could not influence, Jyrrus began construction of his family home near the Salt Lake and the pink weeping tree of their youth. Gaven hung back in the temple of Kar, content with his usual lodgings. For his part he filled his time with relentless writing.

 

One morning a letter finally arrived from Jeremiah. To Gaven’s relief it was robust in its contents detailing as much information as the aged doctor had on the progress of the war and the overall mood of the greater Federation. Per Gaven’s request he had enclosed contact information for Keiko O’brien and had spent a lengthy page worth of writing both admonishing Julian for his poor tact regarding Gaven as well as offering soothing fatherly advice that largely amounted to encouraging Gaven not to stand for that kind of nonsense.

 

The letter, while heartwarming and hopeful, was not really the letter he was the most eager to see. Of the situation specifically involving Deep Space Nine there was scant information Jeremiah was able to glen for him. He was a retired doctor and professor after all, not an officer or anyone of real weight outside of the confines of the commissions he manned both on Earth and farther afield. His advice to Gaven was to keep trying to get through and to pull what favors he could while he was on Vulcan. The reality was that Jyrrus was far more likely to be able to give him answers by way of what he picked up as an Ambassador than Fisk was.

 

Gaven took all his advice to heart. He was determined to find out what was happening to his other friends.

 

When he wasn’t writing letters, he prayed in the temple proper even though the Oum did not employ any kind of secular or non-secular religion. For Gaven’s part he didn’t care. He would pray to deity and alien alike if there was even the smallest chance anybody was listening and sympathetic to his grievances.

 

Although he preferred to keep to himself, Sha’el regularly invited him to attend her while she performed her ritualistic duties, and he frequently joined her mealtimes. If Jeremiah had ever treated Gaven with a fatherly kind of hand, Sha’el was a motherly mirror to his fatherly influence. They had always gotten on well and Gaven was grateful for her wise and at times mischievous air.

 

Even T’Yel tried to smooth the path between them. It had happened one day in the main kitchen of the temple where T’Yel had been busy hauling large vats of water into the kitchen’s cistern to use for cooking and later washing. After all her original cutting hostility towards him when he’d first arrived with Jyrrus, T’Yel sensed that Gaven was still a little weary of crossing her path. The water vats were heavy though and while she’d spent most of her life hauling them from one part of the temple to the next, lately uncharacteristic fatigue had begun to slower her usual gracious efficiency.

 

Gaven had been reading in Sha’el’s drawing room one mid-morning when T’yel had appeared like a fairy queen in the doorway. “Gaven, I am sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to beg your assistance, please.”

 

When he nearly paled under her intense wide-eyed gaze, she sighed and came more fully into the room to speak with him. “We are going to have to get used to each other eventually. You are practically my big brother now.  I think it illogical that you might still be fearful of me.”

 

“Said the woman who would have been delighted to see her betrothed murder me.” Gaven quipped, without any real malice. “You can be utterly terrifying when you want to be.”

 

“Only to those I distrust and do not like. You are no longer apart of either of those categories. Can we declare peace?” She asked opening her hands as if to suggest it was the most reasonable option to embrace.

 

Gaven grunted in the back of his throat and set his book aside. “Alright. I accept your declaration. Now how may I be of service to you?”

 

Twenty minutes later Gaven had helped T’Yel carry the water vats up from their stores. To her credit she did not just push the task off on him but did it with him. Occasionally giving him pointers as to how best to carry the vats to minimize fatigue and the proper way to pour them out so that none of the precious fresh water was wasted from careless over spills.

 

He found T’Yel to be a single minded worker and communicator who preferred to get directly to the heart of things as quickly as possible. When she wasn’t emotionally and chemically compromised, Gaven also found her to be quite astute and more than capable of taking charge of whatever needed doing. Eventually Gaven went so far as to offer to remain and help her prepare the produce for the week. T’Yel obliged him and set him on a stool to shell pea pods and shuck the cavernous mushrooms that resembled yams and tasted faintly of iron, earth, and lavender. They worked together for a long time in steady silence although every now and then Gaven would pause in his duties to watch her huff about the kitchen doing any number of domestic things.

 

“You encouraged Jyrrus to speak to me before, didn’t you?” Gaven eventually asked.

 

“Yes.” T’Yel confirmed. “I think I actually encouraged him to do something a little bolder than talking.”

 

“Why?” Gaven inquired.

 

“I thought you deserved to know how much you really mean to him.  I did not understand before, but I see now how hard it is for you to accept that you deserve to be happy as much as anybody else. You are both sensitive in the same ways. Your hearts are compassionate with mutual intellects guided more by what is right than what is easy. I see now that you need each other to be happy and that you both are strong in different ways. Jyrrus is a man of great convictions but underdeveloped confidence. You are a man of depthless feeling weighed down by dogmatic principle. Men like you and Jyrrus are expansive people incapable of being satisfied with the status quo. I doubt from my observations that neither of you can fully comprehend how beautiful you are to those you touch. When Jyrrus rescued you, I thought you would take him away from me. But the truth is you have given him the strength to fight for what is most important to him.” She explained at length.

 

“Jyrrus loves you.” Gaven reminded her as a slow endeared smile crept across his face.

 

“No.” T’Yel corrected him as she reached around the side of the table to wipe a wayward speck of pea greens from his cheek. “He loves us both. Come on big brother. Leave that. I have got washing to do.”

 

“Why don’t you let me take care of it today. I know your perfectly capable in in your present condition, but I’d like to start pitching in more around here if anyone will let me.” Gaven idly said as he made a fuss of sliding off the stool he had been sitting on and brushing away some of the plant matter that had escaped the bowl that he’d been dropping the peas into. “You are a part of my family now. Families help each other.”

 

T’Yel’s mouth fell open forming the sweetest little ‘O’. “How did you know about that? It is so early even I am not sure yet.”

 

“Love always finds its way. I don’t know for certainly either. Just a feeling, I guess. If you want to know, I can confirm it for you.” Gaven offered coming to stand beside her.

 

“You can? What…What do I have to do?” She asked nervously.

 

“Nothing, just hold still and relax. I’m just going to place my hand on your abdomen if that’s alright and open a link to check.” Gaven assured her in his most eloquent doctoring tone. “Is that alright with you?”

 

T’Yel nodded eager to see this strange magic of his again.

 

Gaven nodded and placed his hand gently across her taunt abdomen and then he shut his eyes and linked.

 

“Well?” T’Yel asked thirty seconds later as she tapped him gently on the side of his forehead.

 

A delighted chuckle broke out across his face. “Well let’s just say that I can see Jyrrus doesn’t waste any time.”

 

“Really?” T’Yel said on a surprised inhale.

 

“Mmhm. Congratulations. You’re doing just fine.” Gaven confirmed.

 

“Oh.” T’Yel slipped her hands to either side of Gaven’s face and leaned slightly up to peck him square on the mouth. “Thank you, Gaven. Do something for me? No telling Jyrrus. I want to wait until things are farther along.”

 

“Of course. Our secret.” Gaven promised.

 

“Right. Come on, big brother. Laundry.” T’Yel squeezed Gaven’s arm in a second silent thanks.

 

Grinning ear to ear now, Gaven shook his head and followed her.

 

~@~

 

Unlike Gaven and Cheval’s journey to Vulcan which had taken so long because the starships they were on had been making many stops and were not traveling at emergency speeds, Garak was able to travel directly to Vulcan and at a considerably faster clip in the barrowed Klingon Bird of Prey. Garak had been forced to promise on the threat of death to Martok that he would return it in one piece. Overall, the journey had taken Garak a minuscule ten days. Garak hadn’t bothered to send word ahead. He rather enjoyed the idea of dropping in on Gaven entirely unannounced.

 

On the morning before Garak arrived at Mount Selenya, his letter sent some months back had finally reached Gaven’s door.

 

Desperate for news from the front lines, Gaven had nearly ripped the letter in two trying to get it open. To his great disappointment the date on it was dated more than three months ago which was a little less than the full time he had been away. Still, at least the post was finally getting through. His heart went out for Keiko and her children back on Earth fore they had likely had to wait just as long for their own information.

 

The letter was surprisingly from Garak.

 

Gaven would have recognized his elegant handiwork anywhere and when he sniffed the paper the perfumed smell of Garak’s shop wafted triggering fond memories of the effort Garak had gone through to make Gaven his limited if new wardrobe as well as some of the shenanigans they had gotten up to together.

 

The news wasn’t good.

 

At the time of the letter Deep Space Nine had fallen into Cardassian-Dominion hands and the losses on the front lines were devastating. The letter was not particularly long, but it was full of plenty of double entrandres typical of Garak’s style of speech and embellished story telling.

 

There were small little blurbs about everyone and how the team seemed to be under constant threat of being broken up. Benjamin was leading the way for all of them just as Gaven would have expected him too and Garak had left the station in favor or making himself useful with the remaining team on the Defiant. As was to be expected Garak's words were quite flowery in some places and especially regarding his absence and its effect on their teams moral. If Garak had been intending to guilt Gaven for not staying behind, then Gaven had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker. The one person that was the least mentioned beyond a couple of disparaging criticisms of Augments and how they could be such melodramatic bores, was Julian. Gaven felt something inside of him hitch painfully at the thought of the doctor. It didn't sound like Julian was doing very well. He was all hard lines these days and moodiness.

 

Gaven sighed reading the letter several times through.

 

There was just no getting around it. Gaven had to go back out to the Frontier. 

 

He wanted to see for himself what the Federation was really up against and he wanted to perhaps offer something of himself to the cause. Though the idea he already had of the situation sent a cold shiver running down his spine. In the evening Gaven decided that he would broach the subject with Jyrrus and see if he knew of anyone who would be willing to take him wherever the others now where.

 

in the end though and unbeknownst to Gaven there was to be no reason for him to ask for any extra or unorthodox help.  Gaven went to bed that night planning what he was going to say to Sisko when he finally saw him next. There had to be something Gaven could do to help them. Perhaps he would come back into the fold as a spare triage doctor. The next morning, he hurried through his meal preparations. He was impatient that day and mostly out of sorts for having slept badly. The truth was he missed Julian and badly wanted to prove to him that Gaven wasn't the type of man to be ushered to the side when things got difficult.

 

 All these thoughts however were put on hiatus when a ship landing somewhere close had him scrambling to the nearest balcony to see.

 

The ship was a Klingon Bird of Prey. An unlikely sight to appear on the remote mountain of Selenya. Feeling protective of the temple and its occupants Gaven swiftly sought out Sha'el with a look of determination on his face that said he was restless and ready to deal with anything.

 

Sha'el bid him to follow her to the tarmac and as they departed Jyrrus appeared from another direction to join them. 

 

 "Do we know whose come?" Gaven inquired.

 

"Not entirely. All I know is that the ship is definitely one of our allies. If they were coming to speak with me, they would have announced themselves beyond the basic identification codes." Jyrrus remarked.

 

"Were you expecting company?" Sha'el quipped.

 

"No. But a lot has gone on lately that I haven't been able to predict. Why stop now?" Gaven replied.

 

The three of them hurried towards the edge of the tarmac and waited for the ship to finish powering down its thrusters.

 

Slowly as the dust settled in the elongated space around the Bird of Prey a lone figure emerged out of the gusting dust.

 

"Well well, Doctor! I see you've brought me a welcoming party. Perhaps I should have brought a gift." The Cardassian slyly muttered as he instinctively putting his hands in the air making the universal sign of peace.

 

"Garak?" Gaven rushed forward. "Garak!"

 

"It is indeed I, my good man." Garak muttered almost reassuringly as Gaven slammed into him with some power and the two embraced heartily. "Garak, why are you here? Has...Has something happened?"

 

Garak could feel panic swiftly rise in the other man and immediately tightened his hold on him. "Steady, now. Steady."

 

From his tone Gaven wondered for whose benefit Garak was really speaking. Pushing off him so that he could clasp his shoulders at arm’s length and study the Cardassian, Gaven looked him soundly up and down. "Are you alright?"

 

"Right as rain, I assure you." Garak lied. "I come with news. Might we adjourn somewhere not right here?"

 

For the next hour Garak conference with them all in Sha'el's sitting room. The news he had was indeed disturbing.

 

"And then the fleets just disappeared. Blinked out of existence as if they had never been there." Garak was saying as he described the last few moments of the Defiant emerging through the worm hole.

 

"Did the Prophet's actually intervene?" Gaven inquired reading through the lines.

 

"That would appear to be the easiest conclusion." Garak agreed.

 

"What about...Casualties? Has anyone been hurt?" They all knew what Gaven was really asking was if any of his dearest friends were dead.

 

"We...Huh. We've lost Ziyal. She was murdered after she was discovered helping some of our people escape custody during the occupation of the station. She...is greatly missed." While it wasn't a lie, the depth of Garak's lost was carefully masked, not that Gaven wasn't astute enough to guess his feelings on the matter.

 

"I'm sorry, Elim." Gaven said as he nestled closer to the man and touched his hand.

 

Such a small subtle gesture on his part. Garak thought. It conveyed much to him. Tell me what I can do.

 

"In war, doctor. The ones most purely innocent are always the ones who pay the highest price. Ziyal's sacrifice will be avenged one way or another. I do assure you. Which brings me to the reason that I'm here. Perhaps it's better if you sat down."

 

Garak kept to just the facts when he explained what had apparently transpired in the final hours of the Occupation of the station though his emotions slowly got the better of him as he went on to relate the logic of their reconnaissance mission into enemy territory. When he finally got to the part about Julian's disappearance he winced as Gaven finally exploded.

 

"What do you mean Starfleet presumes him to be captured or dead! Isn't anyone going to do something about this? What about Jake Sisko and the others?” Gaven fumed.

 

"Peace Doctor. I'm here because I am planning to do something about it. Or rather I need your help to do something about it. Care for a little adventure, doctor? I can't say it's going to be a picnic, but subterfuge rarely is." Garak baited.

 

Were in the soup again, Doctor. Gaven could see the expectant look in the Cardassian’s sly eyes. You and me together again off to save our dear dear Julian.

 

Gaven glanced pensively around the room, briefly torn.

 

“Go.” Jyrrus said softly. Echoing what the rest of his family was thinking as they all looked at Gaven. “Go save your friends. If you need anything, you know where home is. We will stand with you always.”

Notes:

Well, after four years we come to our first ending. I would like to note that "A Man Apart" is the first Volume of a trilogy meant to cover the events of the remaining seasons of Deep Space 9 as well as the continued adventures of Gaven.

I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read this fan novel, comment on it, and encourage me over the years.

In upcoming weeks I will be posting a Afterward about this story as a supplemental bonus.

Thank you again for your time and loyalty to this fan story. I thank you and Gaven thanks you.

~Alexandria S. Allen

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