The BLTS Archive - All Quiet
fifth in the Greensleeves series
by ScopesMonkey (melanie.crisfield@gmail.com)

---

Author's Note: This is a Greensleeves AU story. If you haven't read Greensleeves
yet, I suggest you do, or this won't make much sense. In terms of the DS9 TV
series, this story is set toward the end of season 3.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space 9, and I am not making any money
off of this. All original characters, settings, and events are my property and
cannot be used without my permission.

---

It would have been easy to believe we were the only two people in the universe,
traveling through the darkness between solar systems in our tiny Starfleet
shuttle, silent and unheeded. The only sounds in the small ship were those of
the computer running through its regular routines and performing analyses we had
set for it. I could hear my own breathing, measured and deep, but the small
sounds of the shuttle masked the sound of Julian's breathing from my ears.

I glanced over at him and a small smile tugged at my lips. He was gazing at the
console in front of him, tapping his fingers soundlessly against it, but even
though his eyes moved over the information being displayed for him, I could tell
that his thoughts were elsewhere. It was like that sometimes with Julian. Most
people assumed he did not have to think deeply, because he could think so
quickly, but I had known him for a long time, and I knew that there were times
when he pondered something thoroughly and slowly. I watched him for a moment
longer, and it was a measure of how far his thoughts were that he didn't notice
my attention.

Then I leaned toward him slightly and whispered:

"Orinoco to Doctor Bashir."

The effect was instantaneous; he returned from where he had been in the blink of
an eye - literally. He glanced over at me, curiously, and I smiled. He grinned
back at me. It was one of the things I loved best about him: whenever he smiled
at me, his face and eyes lit up. There was no holding back, no distractions,
just the joy of the moment.

"You were a million kilometers away," I commented.

"Rather more than that," he said wryly. "Seventy thousand light years,
actually."

"Back on the station?"

He shook his head and I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. I could
tell that something had been on his mind lately, since we had left two days ago,
but I could also tell he wanted some time to mull it over. I had teased him
briefly that he was feeling guilt for the minor injury that Ensign Klixa had
sustained in a training program in one of Quark's holosuites. Of course, Julian
hadn't had anything to do with that, nor had he any way of knowing that Benjamin
would agree to my suggestion to bring him with me on this short cartographic
survey. My one other science officer, Lieutenant Jemmsi, was on leave on Bajor,
and so I had suggested the change to Benjamin, not truly believing he'd accept.
When he had, I'd seized the opportunity and so had Julian. We didn't often have
the chance to go on away missions with only each other. And Klixa was safe in
the care of the station's newest Starfleet addition, a half-human, half-Vulcan
doctor named Simon Tarses.

"A little further than that," Julian replied. "I think I need to get in touch
with the doctors on Aedigeon Prime who did my enhancements."

I was immediately alarmed and Julian responded to my expression, holding up his
hands to assuage me.

"To see how my genes would be passed onto a child!" he reassured me. "Nothing's
wrong with me. I just need to know if whatever was wrong with me when I was born
will be passed on, or if it's been completely eradicated."

I let out a slow, deep breath, taking my time before responding. We hadn't yet
decided if we'd have children, mostly because there were things we had to deal
with, like this. I suspected we'd eventually decide to have children, but Julian
seemed less certain, although perhaps with good reason. I knew he worried about
how his relationship with his parents, deteriorated now to the point of being
destroyed, would affect his relationship with a child. I knew it was a real
concern, but I also thought his awareness of his parents' mistakes with him
would let him be a better parent. He'd pay more attention to what he was doing.

"That's a good idea," I said. "And if you need to go there when we get back,
I'll go with you."

He smiled at me and leaned over, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I know," he replied.

"But you're sure you're all right?" I asked.

"I'm fine, Zia," he assured me. "You know I've been monitoring myself ever since
I found out I had the enhancements, and I've got Simon working on it too, now.
He agrees with me; I am absolutely fine."

I nodded, feeling relieved. It was always a worry for me, in the back of my
mind, but I also knew that Julian had been lucky, in his way. His parents had
actually paid for experts to do his enhancements, and they had been done
properly.

I was also glad that he'd enlisted Simon's help in keeping track of his health.
I was grateful that Starfleet had finally assigned another doctor to Terok Nor,
after two years of having Benjamin on their case about it. The processing center
had its own medical staff, of course, and they certainly helped out when Julian
needed it, but it was getting harder for him to balance his workload well. Since
the discovery of the wormhole and the moving of the station to be at its mouth,
Terok Nor had seen an influx in Starfleet and civilian personnel. I smiled
slightly to myself as I remembered that momentous day - I'd been on the other
side of the galaxy and had arrived back in time to see a small fleet of Bajoran
and Cardassian ships towing an immense space station, which was propelling
itself as best it could with its modest thrusters. Since then, we had been
further from Bajor, but closer to the first stable wormhole known in the galaxy.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," I said and Julian grinned, leaning over to kiss
me, this time on the lips. I kissed him back, then pulled away slightly. "All
right, Doctor, we do have work to do out here."

He kissed me again, quickly, then settled back into his seat. We had long ago
decided that, when working, we were officers, and in our off-duty hours, we were
Jadzia and Julian.

"That's odd," he said suddenly and I glanced over.

"What is it?"

"I'm picking up some sort of energy reading, but the computer can't seem to
localize it. Hang on."

I called up the information on his display and he was right. There was some sort
of intermittent energy source out there. I scanned the system we were
approaching, but I couldn't find a likely source. This system had four gas
giants, one rocky inner planet and a number of moons, but none of them were
suitable for immediate habitation, and if anyone had claim to this system, they
certainly hadn't started any terraforming projects or set up any bases. Like as
not, it was unclaimed, as were many of the other systems we'd mapped over the
past two days. In the nearly three years since the discovery of the wormhole,
the Federation had made first contact with several races, but we had not
encountered another large political organization such as ourselves or the
Klingon Empire. At first, I'd thought this odd, but perhaps it wasn't. After
all, the Federation was only a few hundred years old, and the Bajoran-Cardassian
alliance, which had merged with the UFP almost a hundred years ago, was not much
older. The Klingon Empire predated either of the other two major organizations,
but still, not by that long, considering the age of the universe, or even the
age of most habitable systems.

"Computer, run an analysis on the energy source and compare it to known readings
from cloaked Klingon vessels," Julian said, snapping my attention back to the
present. I suddenly felt, again, how small we were, but in a much different way.
If there were Klingons out here, they could come across us unprepared, and we
would have no chance at defending ourselves. Of course, Klingon ships didn't
tend to prey on Federation vessels anymore - the merger between the Alliance and
the Federation had effectively silenced the threat from the Empire, because of
the sheer size of the Federation. But that wouldn't stop a renegade Klingon
vessel in another quadrant. And then, who would know?

"There is no match between the energy source and any known Klingon vessels," the
computer replied.

"Then what is it?" Julian asked.

"Insufficient data. Please restate question," the computer said, and my husband
muttered "Yeah, yeah" under his breath.

"I'm picking up some sort of satellite," I said. "It looks like -"

I was cut off when a garbled voice filled out tiny cabin. It took the computer a
few moments to process the unfamiliar language, so Julian and I sat in confused
silence until the universal translator began deciphering the words.

"Attention unidentified vessels. You have just crossed into Trisepat space. You
have been scanned, and your vessel configuration does not match any known ships
in our database. Please hold -"

The recording was interrupted suddenly when the shock of a phaser blast shudder
through our ship.

"Shields!" I yelled, but it was too late; a high pitched whine made me spin
around to see three aliens being deposited in the cabin behind our seats. Julian
had grabbed a phaser before they had fully materialized, and had aimed and
fired, but the female who was his target seemed to have been expecting it and
ducked. The alien in the middle, a male, fired back at Julian, and caught him
square in the chest. I let out a cry, more in anger than fear, and started
toward the shooter, but three weapons aimed right at me stopped me up.

The recording came back on, startling me.

"Please hold your position until we can rendezvous with you -"

The woman at whom Julian had shot fired at the console, silencing the message in
a shower of sparks. I felt a sudden impact on my chest and my nerves exploded
with pain before everything went dark. "Zia. Jadzia." A whispered voice, and the
sensation of cool fingertips against my forehead. I groaned, and the world
fluttered as I managed to open my eyes. The first thing I saw was Julian's
concerned gaze, then the relief when I focused on him. I let my eyes dart past
him, but it took a moment for them to adjust to the dim lighting.

"How do you feel?" he whispered.

"I'm all right, I think," I replied in the same low tone. He nodded, but still
looked concerned.

"I need to check the symbiont. Let me know if you feel any pain."

As he did so, I propped myself on my arms and was finally able to get a view of
where we were, but it brought only a sinking feeling of dismay. Someone had put
us into a tiny cell, perhaps four meters square, and there did not seem to be
any doors. The walls were a dark, cool metal, and the source of the dim light
was the join between the ceiling and walls. Aside from the recessed lights, the
room was featureless.

"Any idea where we are?" I asked quietly. Julian shook his head, still
concentrating on the task. It didn't sit well with me that he was as uncertain
as I was. I was relieved beyond words to find him alive and with me. I would
never forget the moment I saw him shot, as hard as I might try. But I knew he
would have regained consciousness before me – not only because he'd woken me up,
but because of his enhancements. It did not bode well that he had no other
information.

"I think you're all right," he said, sitting back on his heels and I nodded. I
felt no disorientation, no loss of memory, and certainly none of the pain I
would associate with an injury to Dax.

"They'll start looking for us this evening," I told him, and he nodded, although
he still looked grim. As an away team, we were required to check in every
twenty-six hours, and thanks to the communications array we'd set up with the
help of the Cardassian Science Ministry, we could communicate with Terok Nor
through the wormhole. But tonight we wouldn't, and Benjamin would have ships
searching for us an hour after we failed to check in.

And then there was this mysterious Trisepat. They had scanned our ship and knew
our location, so perhaps they would be able to find us.

Provided they weren't the ones who had done the capturing.

A section of the wall slid open suddenly, and a brighter light flooded in,
startling both of us. Two people stepped in, both aliens neither of us had ever
seen, but obviously from different races. One of them was somewhat shorter than
me, with skin so pale it looked as if it were covered with talcum powder, and
ears that resembled nothing so much as spiraling sea shells. He had dark, wavy
hair that came down to his shoulders, and eyes the most intense shade of violet
I'd ever seen. He was smiling slightly, as if enjoying a private joke.

The other was obviously reptilian, but I could not tell if it was male or
female. It was shorter than the pale man, with tiny, dark red scales, and
narrowed, piercing green eyes. Both of them held weapons aimed at us, and their
manner suggested we'd get no warnings.

"We're here," the pale man said in a disconcertingly pleasant voice.

"Where?" Julian demanded. He was still sitting in front of me, and had shifted
slightly as if to protect me. I knew it would make no difference, but I also
knew he felt he had to try. The only thing I disliked about being joined is how
physically vulnerable I could be.

"Your new home," the pale man said, in the same pleasant voice. "I do have to
warn you, though, I doubt you will enjoy it much."

He stepped toward Julian, pulling something out of a pocket, and my husband
moved quickly, far faster than most humans could, snagging the man's wrist and
twisting and squeezing until he dropped the hypospray. A moment later, a phaser
blast hit Julian in the chest and I saw him go down a second time. I stood
frozen, knowing that I'd get the same treatment if I moved. The pale man scooped
up the hypospray and stepped toward me. I knew I had no choice; it was either
this, or risk death by taking a phaser blast in the stomach. I tilted my head to
the left and the man injected me quickly. I did not even have time to feel the
medication take hold before I was unconscious.

---

There were times, I had to admit, where I appreciated Dax much more than I
normally did. Waking up that day was one of them. As it was, opening my eyes to
look into a completely alien face made my heart skip a beat and my body tense
with fear until I was able to realize that the alien – a female, I thought –
wasn't touching me, let alone harming me. We stared at each other for a moment,
more shocked than anything else, then I eased myself up onto my forearms, still
watching her. She stood and moved back a few steps and I was able to better see
where I was.

I was lying on a hard, narrow bed covered by several ragged and dirty blankets.
This new room was larger and brighter than the tiny cell in which I'd so
recently been. There were five other beds like the one I was in, all ranged
neatly against the bare grey walls. One of them was Julian, lying on his back,
eyes closed, obviously unconscious. I sat up quickly and the woman held out one
hand to me, speaking rapidly in a language I didn't understand. Instinctively, I
reached for my combadge, which was, of course, gone. That meant that my
universal translator was also gone, and I had no way of understanding her, nor
the others that I had just noticed.

"Help me up, then," I said, extending a hand toward her. She hesitated, and I
doubted she could understand me, either, but after a moment, she took my hand
and helped me to my feet. It was then I realized how tall she was and actually
took the time to really look at her. Even in this desolate setting she seemed
regal and composed. Her skin had a dusty, silvery sheen and her hair was pure
white, tied back off her face, but falling to her waist nonetheless. Her eyes
were bright green, set above high cheek bones. If it hadn't been for the fact
that she obviously hadn't seen a good bath in some time, I would have thought
her an illusion in that dim and grimy place.

She said something to me and I could only nod, crossing the small space on the
hard floor that separated me from my husband. Another alien was seated on the
narrow bunk beside him, examining him carefully with her eyes and frowning. This
one was short, shorter than me, with pale pink skin, violet eyes, and shockingly
yellow hair that was shaggy and came down just below her ears. I wondered how
long they'd been here. She looked up at me and I was startled by the frustrated
expression in her eyes that did not reach her features. She looked up at the
tall woman and spoke sharply. The other replied to her, their words completely
lost on me, then the pink skinned woman stood and sat down on another bunk, her
back against the wall, her eyes closed. The tall woman looked down at me and
shrugged, an expression that surprised me in its universality.

I sat down beside Julian, ignoring the others for a moment. There were two more
aliens, not the same race as the woman, but I didn't have the time to take stock
of that yet. I leaned down and listening to Julian's breathing for a moment,
then touched his chest carefully, checking for injuries. He was breathing slowly
and deeply and his pulse felt strong and steady, which was a good sign.

"Jules," I whispered, brushing my fingers against his face. "Jules, wake up."

He groaned and my heart sped up for a moment.

"Jules," I repeated. "Come on, wake up."

He groaned again and his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, I held my breath
until he focused on me and I knew what he must have felt in that cell.

"Zia," he muttered.

I nodded.

"How do you feel?"

Julian hissed as he shifted and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach, where
the symbiont was. He healed very quickly and the fact that he was in pain didn't
sit well with me.

"Help me sit up," he asked and I shifted so I could shuffle an arm under his
shoulders and helped him into a sitting position. I saw his eyes widen as he
took stock the way I had, and I gave myself another moment to look at our other
two companions. The tall woman had sat down on the bunk beside the meditating
pink skinned woman. The others both appeared to be male. One was about my
height, stockily built, with yellow-gold skin and absolutely no hair. He had
light brown eyes with pupils so large that his irises were almost obscured,
although that might be a function of the low light.

The other startled me, because I'd seen one of his kind on the ship that had
brought us here. He was probably my height, with the same pale skin and
shell-shaped ears of his compatriot. His hair was equally dark, but longer and
shaggier, and his eyes were bright blue. He saw my expression and held up his
hands so that they were almost cupped together, palms facing me, and said
something.

"You must realize we don't understand you," I said levelly despite the
frustration of not being able to communicate. Beside me, Julian shifted fully
into a sitting position, rotating his shoulders and grimacing at what must be
the ache in his chest. I was grateful that I spoke English and Julian spoke
Trill, or else we'd be cut off even from each other.

"Julian," my husband said and I glanced at him, to see he was indicating
himself. Then he gestured to me. "Jadzia." It was probably the most basic form
of communication in the galaxy when there was a language barrier.

The pale skinned man nodded.

"Oleyn," he replied. He nodded at the yellow skinned man. "Aldtranmoriori." I
couldn't tell if it was one name or two, so I repeated it hesitantly and the
yellow skinned shook his head.

"Aldtranmor Iori," he said slowly and I repeated it again. He nodded this time.

Oleyn pointed at the tall woman.

"Reth'Nyr," he said, then "Jhal," for the pink skinned woman. He pointed to
himself again. "Vorta."

"Oleyn Vorta?" Julian asked. Oleyn shook his head. He paused a moment,
apparently thinking, then got up and approached us slowly, obviously not wishing
to startle us. Maybe he'd seen the other man of his race put us in here, or
maybe he knew that one of his captors was one of his people. He pointed to the
markings on the side of my face, then indicated the same area on Julian's face,
which was bare of any spots.

"Vorta," he repeated, touching his ears, gesturing to his eyes.

"Ah," Julian said. He pointed to himself. "Human. Trill," he added, pointing at
me.

"Human. Trill." Oleyn repeated, looking puzzled, glancing at the others.
Aldrtanmor Iori shook his head and Reth'Nyr arched a pale eyebrow. Jhal was
still silent, eyes closed, apparently ignoring all of us. Oleyn gave us a wry
look and sighed. He pointed at Aldtranmor Iori and said: "Hendulu." Then:
"Gri'Thethi and kbsai" for Reth'Nyr and Jhal respectively.

I wondered how much more we could say to each other. It was too easy to forget
the blessing of universal translators. Julian and I were lucky; I spoke fluent
English and he spoke fluent Trill, so we were never unable to communicate with
each other. Julian spoke several languages, actually, as did I, thanks to the
experiences of my hosts. But I doubted he'd be able to pick up much of whatever
language they were speaking without having any real frame of references. Names
of individuals and races wouldn't be enough.

Oleyn said something else, slowly, but it was still meaningless to me. Julian
surprised me – and the others, by their reactions – by sitting up and snapping
his fingers, pointing directly at Oleyn.

"Yes, yes!" he said, nodding. "Trisepat!"

I was amazed he'd picked up the word, but, at the same time, it was really not a
surprise. Julian paused, thinking, then very slowly began to repeat the first
part of the Trisepat message that had played in our shuttle before the computer
had begun translating. I realized I should have known he'd remember it, and then
realized it might have given us a starting point for him learning the language.
After all, the computer had provided us with a brief translation.

The others looked surprised at Julian's hesitant repetition of the first few
sentences of our message. Oleyn nodded slowly, then indicated both of us, saying
something carefully. Julian nodded, repeating it, then turned to me.

"Unidentified vessel," he clarified for me. "At least that way they'll know
we're not from around here. But I don't know if I can explain where we come
from."

I raised an eyebrow.

"It gets us somewhere," I pointed out. Julian flashed me a quick grin; for a
moment, the severity of our situation didn't exist, but only for a moment. We
were still stuck with aliens with whom we could barely communicate, being held
prisoner, and had no idea where we were, or why we were taken. It was not a
promising prospect.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Well enough," Julian replied, and checked himself quickly. He seemed satisfied
enough, but that didn't reassure me as much. Having been married to a doctor, I
knew they made poor patients and were reluctant to admit their own weaknesses.
But then again, it was Julian, and he did heal remarkably quickly.

"Well, now what?" he commented under his breath, partly to himself, partly to
me. I was about to answer when the door swung open, answering for me. There was
a guard there, another lizard person, this one with dark blue scales, and behind
it, a tall, black skinned female with white lines painted on her face. Both were
holding phaser rifles, and the lizard gestured for us to exit the room.

"Speed it up," it snapped and I was somewhat surprised to understand, then
realized it was wearing a communicator of some kind. I cast a quick, side-long
glance at Julian, who nodded imperceptibly; the first chance we got, we would
have to speak to one of our fellow prisoners, but I was not inclined to try this
with a rifle pointed at me. The others filed out with us, and I was surprised at
how unfazed they looked, as if this treatment didn't bother them. Perhaps they
were used to it by now, but I doubted it. I was a joined Trill, and had observed
enough aliens to learn to read new body language quickly; they knew something,
but I had no way of finding out what.

We were herded by the guards through the complex, past other cell rooms, and I
began to suspect this was a forced labour camp. There were other prisoners
moving around, all in the same general direction as we were headed. Most of them
were dirty, although their clothing was well cared for, and no one actually
looked injured or ill, just exhausted. I caught Julian's eye again briefly and
saw a glimmer of acknowledgement there. The labour supply was obviously limited,
so prisoners were cared for, at least enough to keep them as healthy slaves.
That was good in its own way, because it meant our chances of survival were
higher, but it also indicated to me that this place must be difficult to find.
Looking at the other prisoners, I suspected that part of the operations here
involved mining, and this didn't hearten me. I had seen the mines on Bajor from
which the ore processed at Terok Nor was excavated; they were probably the
safest, cleanest, and more secure mines in the Federation. The Cardassians had
paid for mining rights on those mines, and if nothing else, Cardassians were
meticulous when it came to attention to detail. I had no hope that the mines
here would be run as well, because the miners on Bajor were not slaves and their
workin conditions has to be good.

Instead of being put to work as I thought we would be, we were ushered
unceremoniously into a large mess hall, where a line of tired prisoners head of
us were being issued something that may have been called food. Even when I
received my meal, I had no idea what it was, but followed the lead of my tall,
silver-skinned cellmate, claiming a seat a long table with narrow benches on
other side. Julian slipped down beside me.

"Let me try it first," he muttered, so low that I barely caught it, and I nodded
imperceptibly. The rule against speaking was clear enough without anyone saying
it outright, but there was enough noise as people moved around us and as crude
cutlery banged against dented trays to cover the sound of his voice.

He ate a mouthful hesitantly then gave me the slightest of nods.

"Don't worry, they don't poison us," said a quiet voice on my other side. I
resisted the immediate temptation to turn my head toward Reth'Nyr. I could just
see her out of the corner of my eye; her head was bowed, her attention focused
on her meager meal. "They have communicators in here so that the guards can
speak to us. Don't sleep deeply tonight."

I wanted to ask her what she meant by the last remark; in fact, the urge to keep
speaking was so strong that I had to force myself to eat the tasteless sludge in
order to keep myself silent. This was not a good situation for a joined Trill to
be in, particularly one whose last host helped negotiate the merger between the
Alliance and the Federation. I was fascinated by other species; Jadzia always
had been, even before I was joined to Dax. It was one of the reasons I was
married to Julian. And here I was, in a first contact situation with not one but
a handful of alien races in the Gamma Quadrant and I could do nothing but give
Reth'Nyr a small nod, because there was a guard heading for us. There was so
much I wanted to know, not least of which what the Trisepat was, and if they
could get us the hell out of here.

By my estimation, we had less than half an hour to eat, then we were marched
back to our cells again. Movement in the corridors was too supervised for
speech, and back in the tiny cell, there were no communicators, leaving me and
Julian once again isolated from the others. I was glad to have him with me, not
least because there was no language barrier between us.

Aldtranmor Iori took up a position by the door when the guards had closed us in,
looking for all the galaxy like he was relaxing against the wall, his arms
folded loosely over his chest, his weight on his left foot and his right foot
propped against the wall. But his golden eyes were bright and watchful, and he
cocked his head from time to time, as if listening.

So something was happening, something which at least he and Reth'Nyr knew of. It
seemed the other two did as well, because they all spoke quietly to each other,
and cast glances at us, aware that we had no way of understanding them.

The lights went off so suddenly that Julian gave a small gasp and I grabbed his
hand instinctively in the darkness. We were already seated on one of the bunks,
thankfully, or there would have been some stumbling about until we could get
oriented. I wondered if there were enough light for Julian to see, but it seemed
impenetrable to me, even where the door was. If there were lights on in the
corridor, they were not creeping into our cell.

"Let's get a bit of sleep anyway," Julian whispered.

"You think you can sleep now?" I asked, then added: "Nevermind." I felt Julian's
grin somehow; he was able to sleep wherever and whenever he wanted.

"Whatever's going to happen, we should get some rest before it does," he
whispered back to me. I nodded, knowing he'd feel it, and we lay down on the
narrow bunk together. Julian wrapped an arm around my waist and I settled my
hands over his, not bothering to try and get comfortable on the cot. I could
hear the others settling down as well, but my ears told me that Aldrtanmor Iori
hadn't moved from his position by the doorway. I closed my eyes, quelling the
frustration I felt not being able to communicate with these people. Julian
shifted behind me a bit, then settled down. I listened to his breathing slow and
deepen. Whatever happened, he would be prepared for it, because the enhancements
meant he required less sleep than most humans.

I awoke suddenly, aware of a hand covering my mouth. Panic gripped me instantly,
freezing me momentarily, and I heard a hiss in my ear beside me. It took a
second for me to understand that I was being hushed, and that the hand over my
mouth wasn't covering my nose, and I could still breathe. I nodded, hoping that
whoever was holding me would understand the gesture. The hand retreated and I
felt Julian shift beside me, sitting up. I sat up carefully as well, guided by a
pair of hands in the darkness. I could hear Julian getting up as well, and
wondered who was guiding me. A moment later, I felt the wall near the door. I
took a hand laid on my shoulder to mean that I should stay still and wait. I put
my back against the wall, relaxing my body just enough to remain wary without
being tense. In the darkness, I strained my hearing in attempt to catch any
sound from the outside. I wondered if this was because there was nothing to
hear, or if the cells were sound proofed.

The lights came on abruptly, causing me to wince, but I adjusted quickly,
because they had not come on full. I glanced at Julian, who met my eyes, then I
looked at Aldtranmor Iori, who gave me a chilling grin. His canines were
particularly pointed, I noticed, even though they weren't much longer than I was
used to seeing. In the low light, they seemed to glint.

Suddenly, Jhal made a small sound, almost of triumph, and I saw an expression of
smugness pass quickly over Reth'Nyr's face. Then I felt their presences not just
beside me, but inside my mind. It was as if someone had poured cool water over
my brain; it was not a sensation I'd ever experienced and I'd never forget it. I
realized suddenly that I was in the presence of two powerful telepaths that had
been blocked until a moment ago. Through them, for a moment, I felt the entire
base, a jumble of emotions, including a number of individuals who had a very
focused, driven feel to them. Then it eased as the telepaths retreated from my
mind. A glance at Julian's expression told me that he had felt the same thing. I
had only an instant to wonder how it would feel to live like that all the time
before I heard one of them speaking in my mind.

"We've been looking for this place for years," the voice, clearly female, said.
"I think we may have you to thank for it."

I glanced at Reth'Nyr, who was watching me, then at Julian, who'd apparently
heard the same thing. I wanted to ask what she meant by that, but before I could
even open my mouth, the door blocking us into our cell shimmered and shifted and
a moment later, I realized someone had stepped right through it. The figure
remained a glowing, amorphous shape for a moment, then resolved itself – herself
– into a humanoid form. My jaw dropped and I heard Julian gasp quietly; it was
Odo. But not Odo, a female version of Odo, with the same smoothed over features
and neat, molded hair.

"Damn good security they have here," she commented. "Everyone, back of the
room."

The Trisepat prisoners obeyed instantly; this was not a guard, but a rescuer. I
grabbed Julian's arm, because he was still staring at the shapeshifter in shock,
and hauled him to the back of the small cell. The shapeshifter glanced at us
with a knowing look, giving me a faint smile.

"Ah, you must be the Federation people," she commented. "Down, now."

We both ducked, Julian instinctively in front of me. Intuition told me to cover
my ears and I did so, shutting my eyes as well. A moment later, a very directed
but very powerful blast rocked the walls around us. I stayed still until someone
touched my arm then looked up to see the door had been vaporized. The metal
around the frame was still hissing and steaming slightly from the blast. There
was a group of uniformed soldiers standing a semi-circle around the door,
weapons aimed through the gaping hole. They lowered their weapons at the gesture
of a male who looked to be one of Aldtanmor Iori's species. He strode forward,
tossing a weapon at Reth'Nyr, who caught it in a deft, fluid movement. She
checked it with a critical, practiced eye, then hefted it, gesturing for us to
stand up. Then she turned back and spoke to the man who had entered the cell.
Obviously, there were still no translators functioning here, because I couldn't
understand them. Reth'Nyr seemed to realized this and spoke quickly to the
soldier, motioning toward us. He nodded and strode out, gesturing and giving
orders as he went.

"Come," she said inside my mind. "We have not yet secured the entire facility,
but we must get you to safety."

Julian and I rose, the others following us, and we were led from the cell,
immediately surrounded by the soldiers waiting by the door. It felt again as if
we were being trapped, but these guards had an air about them that suggested
that anyone looking to harm us would find themselves seriously inconvenienced.

The noise outside the cell was almost overwhelming. I could hear fire fights
that did not seem too distant from us, and I could hear yelling, some of which
sounded like shouted communication, some of which sounded like conflict. Beyond
that, however, was noise that was not really noise, but an electric sensation at
the back of my consciousness; I thought this must be telepathic communication.
It seemed that this Trisepat had its share of telepathic races, too, and I
wondered how much was being organized without a word being spoken.

"Where are we?" Julian inquired of one of our guards, the one who looked like
Iori.

"Not now," was his reply. "This way."

We followed without much choice, but there was more respect here, and a certain
urgency in the movements of the guards. It seemed to me that some of the
fighting was closing in on us, and the guards wanted to be well away from this
place. We joined up with another force who had apparently released some more
prisoners. I recognized one Gri'Thethi among them, but that was it. The rest
were from races I had not yet encountered. Briefly, I wondered what the
Federation would think of this; Julian and I were making more first contacts in
one day than the entire Federation did in a year. It was unnerving. And
exciting.

"Hold," said our guard and we stopped. The guards set about gathering the
prisoners, instructing them on where to stand while taking names and fielding
questions.

"Everyone calm down," another soldier said, holding up her hands. She was
reptilian, I thought of the same species as one of our abductors, but she had
blue scales which shimmered gently as she moved, and dark grey eyes. "We'll
answer everything once we're off."

The group of freed prisoners began to settle down and one of the soldiers began
communicating with a ship. It appeared that our rescue was a top priority,
because the unseen respondent on the ship sounded relieved, although still very
composed, to hear that we had been recovered. The reptilian soldier told us to
prepare for transport; no sooner than she had spoken did the world began to
dissolve into a pale green, the distant sounds of phaser fire and yelling
retreating as a low frequency hum touched my ears.

When we rematerialized in what could only be a transporter room, I had enough
time to be thankful that it was me and Julian who were experiencing this rather
than anyone else I knew. I had eight lifetimes of experience behind me, and
Julian had his enhancements. Between us, we were able to absorb a lot, and to
adjust much more quickly.

The room was hexagonal and the individual transport pads that stood apart from
one another were triangular. There was an alien I had not yet encountered
standing by a console attached the wall, two Gri'Tethi guards and several people
who had to be medical personnel, because they came forward immediately, honing
in on the injured members of our transported group. But the man who caught my
attention was a Vorta, waiting with his hands clasped behind his back and a
small smile playing on his lips, as if he were alone aware of some subtle joke.
He had the bluest eyes I have ever seen, and was dressed in very fine,
well-tailored clothing. The deep purple of his silk shirt served to enhance the
bright colour of his eyes, and the delicate silver stitching that decorated his
clothing shimmered gently in the artificial light. His perfectly fitted pants
were black with the faintest suggestion of midnight blue. He wore no jewelry,
but had a look about him that suggested aristocracy nonetheless. Part of me was
intrigued, another part suspicious, by this display of easy, knowing confidence.

"Lieutenant Jadzia Dax and Doctor Julian Bashir," he said smoothly, stepping
forward fluidly to greet us. He opened his arms somewhat, palms facing us, in a
gesture of welcome, the knowing smile growing into a greeting. "Welcome to the
Injfelis and to the Trisepat. I am Legislator Weyoun."

---

"I'm sorry your initial reception in our space was less than hospitable," Weyoun
continued. "The people who captured you are not associated with the Trisepat
government in any way."

"I gathered," I said. After I had thought about it, it seemed unlikely that our
captors had been Trisepat, since they had shot the communications console in the
shuttle. Then, of course, we had been rescued from wherever we were being held,
and it seemed to have been a concerted effort to take over the whole base, not
just to find us.

"I'm sure you have many questions for me," Weyoun said. "Let the medical staff
examine you, and then I will meet with you and tell you everything you want to
know." He gave us another of his knowing smiles. "I believe we have much in
common."

He gave us a nod of his head and left. I glanced at Julian, who gave me a small
shrug. It seemed that, for the time being at least, we were under the authority
of the ship's medical personnel. We were given a cursory examination by one of
the medics in the transporter room, then moved to the sickbay along with the
rest of our group of rescued prisoners.

Weyoun met with us after we had been given clean bills of health and had been
assigned guest quarters. The doctors had been very interested in my symbiont,
and I suspected it was only because they knew that the legislator was waiting
for us that we were let go as soon as we were. I was used to fielding questions
by now, but not by people who had never seen a Trill before, let alone a joined
Trill.

Our guest quarters were small but well appointed, with all the comforts we had
on Terok Nor. This came as something of a relief after having been imprisoned,
even if it had only been for a day. Weyoun had joined us in the sitting room of
our quarters. He gave the impression of someone who would be at ease in any
situation, composed, confident and calm. The knowing glint in his eyes reminded
me of some Cardassians that Curzon had dealt with, particularly during the
negotiations between the Alliance and the Federation.

"How did you manage to find us?" Julian asked after we had greeted the
legislator. I hid a smile; that was Julian, when he wanted something, he went
for it. Although he could easily be subtle, I suspected his patience was running
low. I wanted some answers, too.

"Your shuttle, of course," Weyoun said smoothly. "As soon as you crossed into
our space, our border satellites had registered your position, your warp drive
signature and a basic scan of your ship." He held up a hand, forestalling Julian
who was about to speak. "This is standard practice in the Trisepat. Most of the
ships that cross our borders are our own, of course, but it hasn't always been
this safe. I've familiarized myself with the history of your United Federation
of Planets. We have a similar enemy, the Borg."

I nodded, understanding somewhat. There was more of the story, of course, a
whole history which I did not know.

"With the information we'd gathered on your ship, we were able to track it
easily enough. And for that, we owe you a debt of thanks. We have been looking
for that labour camp for a few years now. Although some of the pirates who run
it our from species inside the Trisepat, that place lies beyond our space and
beyond our laws."

"Some of our cellmates seemed to be expecting you," Julian said.

Weyoun nodded, giving a small smile as if he were pleased that Julian had caught
that.

"Yes, of course. You have your Starfleet Intelligent, we have our Intelligence
Net. We sent some Net agents to be captured a few months ago, hoping to track
them, but we lost contact when they were captured. But you were able to repeat
part of the recording from the border satellites. Once they realized you'd been
contacted, they were able to deduce we would be fast on your trail. As it was,
we were close to catching them, but your capture sped up matters considerably."

"I'm glad we could help," Julian said dryly.

Weyoun raised his eyebrows.

"I am grateful to free our people from that place, but I must admit, it is not
the most idea initial contact situation we have ever been in. Far from the
worst, however," he mused. "You must find yourselves at a disadvantage. I have
had time to study your Federation history, although not in as much detail as I'd
prefer. I can give you some background to the Trisepat if you'd like."

Julian nodded, but I spoke up.

"First, where are we going? Are we headed back toward the wormhole?"

Weyoun flashed a grin.

"Ah, the wormhole, yes. A fantastic discovery. But no, we are heading into
Trisepat space. Before you get upset, we have already made contact with the
commander of your space station and, through him, Federation and Starfleet
officials. They are coming through the wormhole to meet us, and we have sent a
ship through, bearing two other legislators, as a gesture of good intent."

Julian frowned.

"How long will it take to get there?" he asked.

"A little under two of our standard days. Let me show you."

He leaned forward and activated a small switch. A three-dimensional holographic
display jumped to life from a small metallic ring sunk into the center of the
table between us. It showed the entire galaxy, somewhat transparent and
glittering.

"Isolate Trisepat space," Weyoun said, and the view zoomed in to what my mind
categorized as the Gamma Quadrant, and a small part of the Delta Quadrant, all
far beyond the reach of Federation space. My eyes widened and I glanced sharply
at Julian, who drew in a silent, astonished breath. He met my eyes, my own
shocked mirrored there.

"You have over a thousand systems," I said, glancing back at the hologram, then
at Weyoun.

He nodded, and smiled his brilliant smile.

"And over two hundred member races," he added.

"That's – unbelievable," Julian managed, obviously at a loss for words. I could
only nod, thinking about the size of the Trisepat compared to the size of the
Federation. We had always seemed so big, especially when the Federation and the
Alliance had merged, but we were dwarfed by the Trisepat. After the merger with
the Alliance, the Federation extended over an area of about 10,000 light years,
but the Trisepat must have been over 15,000. I couldn't begin to imagine the
administrative challenges that would accompany governing such a large area.

"We're much older than your Federation," Weyoun said, as if reading my mind.
"And we incorporated another large political entity, the Dominion, over seven
hundred years ago. I will talk more about that later. Highlight our current
position and the Trisepat core," he said to the holographic display.

A small system near the edge of Trisepat space lit up and I recognized it as
being close to our last coordinates in our shuttle. From there, I could probably
have traced a path back to the wormhole if the rest of the Gamma Quadrant had
been included in the display. At the center of the image, four star systems lit
up brightly, their closely neighbouring suns twinkling a vibrant yellow.

"That can't possibly take us only two days," Julian said and I nodded in
agreement, looking into the legislator's blue eyes. "A trip like that would take
almost five days at high warp." He probably could have given us the duration
down to the second, but Julian had long ago grown accustomed to rounding out his
estimate. I was often curious about how close his exact calculations were, but I
think I was also often the only one.

"In normal space, that would be correct," Weyoun agreed. "Highlight all publicly
accessible tunnels," he said, nodding at the display. A network of snaking blue
lines appeared everywhere suddenly, crisscrossing each other, meeting up and
splitting, but ultimately heading toward the Trisepat core.

"All roads lead to Rome," Julian muttered beside me.

"Pardon me?" Weyoun asked. Julian shook his head.

"An old saying from my home planet," he explained.

"I take it this Rome was a large center?"

Julian nodded.

"At one point, the center for one of the largest political organizations on
Earth."

Weyoun smiled again.

"Then perhaps your analogy is apt," he said. "These are subspace tunnels. We're
traveling in one right now, here," he pointed, and one of the tunnels glowed a
brighter blue. "In normal subspace, we would have to adjust for crossing solar
systems and any other natural phenomenon, not to mention tracking the locations
of other ships, but in the tunnels, we avoid any of these problems. It decreases
our travel time drastically."

I was staring at the display, my mouth firmly shut because I had just enough
control at the moment to keep it so, but I could not keep the shock from my
face, and from my voice when I spoke.

"We've been studying subspace tunnel technology for years," I managed. "We've
never been able to get passed the theory stage. In practice, they never remain
stable."

Weyoun nodded.

"Our technology is only about two hundred years old," he said.

"Two hundred years!" I exclaimed. Two hundred years ago, there had barely been a
Federation, let alone the idea that a subspace tunnel could exist.

"We measure our years somewhat differently than you," Weyoun pointed out. "It is
perhaps close to one hundred and fifty of your years."

"All the same," I muttered, shaking my head. No wonder they had so many systems
encompassed in their borders. It would take so much less time to get anywhere. A
ship from the core could easily reach the most far flung borders within four
days, making supply and personnel transport simple. I thought of the week it
would take to travel between Terok Nor and Earth, and how technology like this
could decrease that to just under three days.

"I don't pretend to understand how it works," Weyoun admitted. "But I'm certain
our engineers will be discussing it with yours when they meet. But this is how
we're traveling to our core."

"I don't suppose you have transwarp tunnels?" Julian asked.

Weyoun laughed.

"Sadly, no," he said. "We have been working on it whenever we capture Borg
technology, but it is not a simple concept, in theory or practice. At least,
that's what our engineers tell me."

"They tell us the same thing," I confirmed dryly, although I suspected the
Trisepat had captured more Borg technology than the Federation ever had, simply
by dint of being so much closer to Borg space than we were.

"When we arrive at the core, then what?" Julian asked. I glanced at him
side-long, suppressing a smile. He had always been innately curious, and being
genetically enhanced just made it easier for him to satisfy one curiosity and
move onto the next. But I wanted to know, as well.

"Your Federation delegation will be just over a day behind us," Weyoun said. He
gave a brief smile, wryness and amusement intertwined. "I imagine from then on
it will be quite a lot of negotiation and diplomacy. But the rest of the
legislators and the premier will want to meet you. Our first Federation
ambassadors. We take first contacts very seriously, especially when they have
the potential for good future relations."

"So do we," I assured him. Weyoun nodded, his bright eyes twinkling. I was
reminded of Enebran Tain, who so often seemed to be laughing at some unknown
joke, his confidence radiating from him like heat.

"I know," he said. "That comes through quite clearly when reading your
Federation history." He paused, steepling his fingers together, the tips
touching. "I feel you are at somewhat of a disadvantage here," he continued.
"I've had two days to familiarize myself as much as possible with the Federation
and Starfleet, but you know next to nothing about us. Allow me to give you a
brief history."

I leaned forward, resting my arms on my knees. I saw Julian's eyes light up;
this is what we had been waiting for. There were so many things I wanted to
know, it was hard to bite down on questions, but it would be easier to listen
than to gather information piece-meal. And, to be frank, I did not want to be
uninformed when the Federation diplomats arrived in the Trisepat core. Although
I was no longer a diplomat, Curzon's work had taught me a lot, and had trained
me for this type of situation – not that I ever particularly expected I would
have an opportunity like this. I glanced again at Julian; it was strange how
many opportunities life could afford you. And amazing.

The Trisepat had been founded almost two thousand years ago, Weyoun told us, a
tiny alliance compared to their current size. As he spoke, three of the central
systems lit up on the display, glowing brightly, their tiny stars twinkling a
holographic light. Only three member races formed the original Trisepat: the
Gri'Thethi, the Hendulu and the shifters. At that point, I had to interrupt,
asking about the shifters, if the rescuer who had come through our door had been
one.

"No, she's a Changeling," Weyoun replied. "Why?"

"We have one on Terok Nor," I said.

I suspected that very little took Weyoun by surprise, but this did. His eyebrows
shot up and his blue eyes flashed astonishment.

"Really? What is her name?"

"He," I said. "Odo."

"I didn't come across any mention of him while reviewing your records."

I shook my head.

"He's not a Starfleet officer, he's a Bajoran citizen and he's one of the
directors of the ore refining facility on Terok Nor."

"How long has he been in the Bajoran system?"

"About twenty years," Julian replied. Trust him to remember that detail.

Weyoun nodded slowly.

"Our Changeling population will be very interested in meeting him, particularly
Legislator Avne. I will send her a message, but in the meantime, discussing the
Changelings leads nicely into more of the Trisepat history. Allow me to
explain."

The Trisepat had expanded to include a fourth member race, the kbsai, and had
ballooned from there, gathering momentum as new space travel technologies were
invented and new systems were colonized. They developed a rule not unlike our
Prime Directive that prohibited them from interfering in the development of
worlds that were not space faring, but they considered space faring to be any
civilization that attempted to make contact. They pushed their borders outward
and began policing them by establishing the same type of probe stations we had
encountered when we had crossed into their space. Mostly, it was their own ships
crossing back and forth from Trisepat space into unclaimed territories, although
occasionally a ship from a previously unknown system would appear, and the
Trisepat would begin negotiations that usually ended with the inclusion of a new
member race. I could see why – a democratic organization with the kind of power
and influence would be an appealing alliance. It was why races joined the
Federation, and why the Federation and the Alliance had merged.

Then, seven hundred years ago, a ship had crossed the Trisepat perimeter and
refused to answer all hails or maintain its position. A scouting ship was sent
out to investigate and encountered a Dominion ship crewed by a small army of a
species called Jem'Hadar. The Trisepat scout ship attempted communications but
was ignored. It would have ended badly for the Trisepat vessel, Weyoun
commented, but for the fact that it was crewed by a large number of Gri'Thethi
and kbsai – all telepaths. The Jem'Hadar were annihilated without a single shot
being fired and the ship was confiscated to be studied.

Weyoun noted Julian's shocked expression and cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't make the mistake of assuming that we will not protect our borders," he
said. "The Jem'Hadar were a greater threat than the Trisepat had ever faced, and
it took very little time for the Gri'Thethi and the kbsai to realize that. That
is one gift of telepathy – if they had not seen this immediately, our citizens
would have been slaughtered, and perhaps not just those on the ship."

He paused, tapping the tips of his fingers together.

"The Dominion was never particularly interested in negotiation, but simply in
expansion. The Trisepat downloaded whatever information they could from the
ship's main computer, confiscated two of the Jem'Hadar bodies and sent the rest
back in the ship with a warning not to invade their space again.

"The Dominion was a militaristic organization run by a race who called
themselves the Founders. They were reclusive and believed by many of the
Dominion members to be nothing more than a fiction but they did, in fact, exist.
They maintained their control through their army of Jem'Hadar, a race of
warriors whom the Founders had genetically engineered and through another race
of managers, who controlled the Jem'Hadar and reported directly to the Founders.
The Founders were none other than the Changelings and their subordinate, manager
race was the Vorta."

Julian and I looked at each other, and I saw the shock glinting from his hazel
eyes.

"Odo is a Founder?" Julian asked, turning back to Weyoun. The legislator shook
his head.

"No, it is somewhat complicated, so allow me to explain. The Changelings do not
always exist as individual beings as you know them, although this is not by any
means standard for shape shifters. The shifters, one of the original Trisepat
members, always exist as individuals, but Changelings can revert to a liquid
state and become one consciousness. This was once called the Great Link. Unlike
the shifters, who developed a trusting relationship with the Gri'Thethi and the
Hendulu, the Changelings had a history of being reviled and feared. This drove
them into hiding, fanning the eventual rumours that the Founders were nothing
more than a myth that the Vorta had created."

Weyoun paused, giving a wry smile.

"Ironic, then, that the Founders are actually responsible for creating both the
Jem'Hadar and the Vorta. But I am getting ahead of myself. How well do you know
this Odo?"

"Very well," Julian replied.

"Then you've noticed an innate tendency for order, I assume?"

We both nodded; that sounded exactly like Odo. Under his direction, the ore
processing center was the peak of efficiency and safety.

"It is a racial trait among the Changelings, this need for order. Being driven
into hiding did not diminish this desire, so the Founders took it upon
themselves to impose order on what they perceived as a chaotic galaxy. In order
to do this, they needed representatives who would be feared and obeyed. The
Vorta they took under their control and changed us, making us more intelligent,
but removing our ability to breed. Instead we did – and still do – carry on our
species via cloning. I am the fifth Weyoun. The Jem'Hadar they created from
scratch, building themselves an army of highly trained, highly organized
warriors who were genetically designed to be dependent on a chemical substance
that could only be provided by the Founders via the Vorta. This made the
Jem'Hadar slaves both mentally and physically to the Founders, and the problem
of having the Jem'Hadar breed new Jem'Hadar that were not addicts was solved by
simply making them all male.

"This method of control worked very well, of course, because there were no other
organizations that could match the Dominion for power. How is one supposed to
devise a way to destroy armies of genetically bred soldiers? I suspect the
Dominion never considered, however, running into telepaths who could do so
without so much as blinking. Nor, I think, did they expect that any telepaths
could have such a capacity for violence in order to preserve themselves. It was
their last mistake."

"But you said that there are Changelings in the Trisepat," Julian interjected.

"Patience, doctor, I will get to that. The Founders did not react kindly to
their ship being sent back with all of their soldiers dead. They dispatched
three more warships to evaluate the threat, none of which were ever returned to
the Dominion. After this, perhaps the Founders realized what they were dealing
with, and sent a diplomatic delegation, ostensibly to negotiate a peace
settlement, but in reality, to make overtures of the shifters based on what the
Founders perceived as common ground. Unlike the Founders, however, the shifters
had never experienced the kind of mistrust and suspicion the Founders had.
Rather than being persecuted and hunted, they stood at the head of a powerful
political organization that they had helped mould from nothing.

"The shifters, of course, reported this to their Trisepat compatriots and the
telepaths had already learned that the Dominion had no intentions of leaving the
Trisepat untouched. That would have meant abandoning the possibility of
acquiring hundreds of star systems, new technologies, resources, and imposing
more order on the galaxy.

"Unfortunately for them, the Gri'Thethi and the kbsai made quick work of
learning where the facilities for breeding Jem'Hadar and synthesizing their
addictive compound were, and where the Founders were. A genetically enhanced
army, as it turns out, is no match for an army equipped with telepaths and
telekinetics – the Hendulu. In less than a year, the Trisepat had wiped out the
Jem'Hadar altogether, had decimated the Founders, and had precipitated the
demise of the Dominion. Without threat from the Jem'Hadar, star systems were
jumping airlock, abandoning an overarching organization altogether or scrambling
for membership in the Trisepat. Almost every applicant was accepted and the
Founders were forced to concede. Many of them had been killed, and many of the
Vorta as well."

I was taken by how matter-of-fact Weyoun sounded about this, as if it did not
bother him that so many of his kind had died. As if reading my thoughts, he gave
me a quirk of a smile and shook his head.

"The Changelings who were left fell largely into two groups: those who had
survived the destruction of their Dominion, because they were those who had
initially resisted the attempts to subjugate the Trisepat, and those who were
classified as The Hundred. These were Changelings who had been sent out as
infants, as we would recognize the life stage, into the galaxy to learn about
other races. Most of them had no idea who they really were and were not present
during the war, coming back only decades or centuries later, taking time to find
their way home.

"I am not a Changeling so I do not presume to speak for them, but those who were
left evidently saw that the path they had taken was misguided, or perhaps they
realized that shape shifters need not be feared, or perhaps they were simply
resigned after seeing their Dominion reduced to nothing, but they abandoned
their Great Link and washed their hands of their control of the Vorta and the
Jem'Hadar and left their home, emigrating to the Trisepat. Only those who were
willing to become part of the galaxy again were allowed into this New Link, as a
consequence, we have much more social Changelings."

Here, he paused and smiled.

"What about the Vorta?" I asked.

Weyoun nodded.

"Yes, the Vorta were relieved of their enslavement to the Founders, and the
genetic programming that made us mentally subservient to them was abolished.
Many of the traits that the Founders had instilled in us, however, our ability
to manage, to liaise, to be diplomatic, to organize, those were kept and the
Trisepat members are nothing if not cunning. They saw this could be used to
their advantage and welcomed the free Vorta into the Trisepat. At the time, many
people worried that the Vorta would revert to obeying only the Changelings, but
to the newly freed Vorta, this idea was repugnant. For the first time in
centuries, we were able to master our own destinies, and the Trisepat gave us
leave to propagate our species by cloning, even though this is illegal for any
other Trisepat race. We had almost completely lost the biological ability to
reproduce by then, but we had developed the technology to pass on the knowledge
and experiences from one clone to the next. I am the sum of my experiences, and
those of each Weyoun who came before me."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. That certainly when far beyond any Federation
cloning technology. It was illegal to clone individuals; cloning was reserved
for such things as organ transplantation or endangered species regeneration. We
had never progressed so far as to be able to transplant memories from one clone
to the next.

"That was seven hundred years ago," Weyoun continued. "Since then, our only true
threat has been the Borg."

I noted that he said "we". Of course, it was likely this Weyoun wasn't seven
hundred years old, and that he had never known anything but the Trisepat, and it
seemed those old Dominion races had integrated fully.

I also noted the sudden darkening of his bright eyes, the shadows that burned
through them, thunder clouds masking the sun. He must have noticed some hint of
expression on my face because he fixed those vibrant eyes on me.

"The third Weyoun was assimilated by the Borg. He may well be alive still,
somewhere. But no longer as an individual."

It was heart wrenching, even though this man was alien to me in every sense of
the word. I thought of all those who had lost loved ones to the Borg, including
Benjamin. There was a hollow pain that opened up, sucking that person away, but
not their memories. But to lose someone to assimilation – how much worse was
that? Somewhere, this man's predecessor was now half machine, and wholly under
the control of the Collective. In that moment, I was glad Jennifer had died and
had not been assimilated. I could not imagine what it would have done to
Benjamin if she'd been taken.

Weyoun smiled wanly.

"Despite their best efforts, we resist. Despite their remonstrations that it is
futile. Again, having two telepathic races has more than its share of benefits.
It seems we have that resistance in common."

"That among other things," Julian commented and I glanced at my husband. There
was an amused glint in his eyes, and I could see him calculating all the
similarities between us and the Trisepat. At least the ones we had learned so
far.

"Indeed," Weyoun agreed, smiling again. "Now, I do not wish to make you endure
any more history lessons. I suspect you have not had a good meal since you were
captured. If you would come with me to this ship's lounge, there are many people
whom I'm sure would like to meet you. And perhaps we may even introduce your
tastes to Trisepat cuisine."

---

The impact woke me. I snapped my eyes open and lay still in the darkness for a
long moment until I remembered to breathe out. The thudding in my ears began to
subside, and other sounds crept back into my consciousness. Beside me, Julian
was fast asleep, his breathing deep, soft, and regular, a sound that helped
replace the terror of the dream. I listened to it for a few moments, synching my
breath with his as I began to calm down. Then I turned my head to look at him, a
silhouette in the darkness of our guest quarters. He was sleeping on his back,
one hand on his stomach, the other buried under his pillow, his face turned
slightly away from me. He didn't stir, because over the years that we'd been
together, I had learned to wake and not wake him as well. Julian didn't require
as much sleep as most humans, and when he slept, he normally slept deeply, but
he was easily awakened by any disturbance. I suspected he had made himself
overcome that, too, because sleeping in a bed next to someone meant that another
body shifting, moving, making noise.

Expertly, I slipped out of the bed and checked the time on the small display
that had mercifully been set for us to Bajoran standard time. It was what we
used on Terok Nor, and what we were used to. Based on the time we'd gone to bed,
I'd slept over six and a half hours, which was good enough. I probably wasn't
going back to sleep anyway.

I rubbed my hands over my face, dispelling the remnants of the dream. It was the
same one I'd been having a for a few years now, and all that happened was that I
witnessed a shuttle crash. When I first had it, I thought it was a memory from
Torias Dax's shuttle crash, but the details were all wrong. It wasn't Torias in
the dream, it was me, Jadzia, and I was watching the crash from the outside, not
from the pilot's seat. And it just felt different, as if this were something
happening to someone else, not to me. I have often wondered, in this life and
previous ones, if a host could catch memories of future hosts. Of course, it's
never happened, but I've never been able to shake the feeling that this shuttle
crash was something that was going to happen, but not to me. It felt like it
involved me, but in a way I didn't understand.

I had told Julian about the dream, of course, and he believed that it wasn't a
memory from Torias. In his very medical way, he told me we didn't know much
about the way our brains conjure our dreams and that it might simply mean
nothing. I understood that, but I didn't believe him. I stopped telling him that
I kept having the dream, not because I thought he didn't care or I didn't want
him to know, but because it became routine enough for me to stop being bothered
by it except for in the few minutes after I awoke.

I moved silently from the bedroom and into the living room, led by the glow of
the replicator. Like Federation replicators, these were wall mounted, but
smaller than I was used to, probably because this was a living quarters. I
ordered a tea, speaking quietly, and the machine provided one to me soundlessly.
It was strange to see a replicator operate in total silence; even Julian said he
could not hear the hum of running machinery on this ship.

I went to stand by one of the windows and watch the blackness outside. It was
strange, being in a subspace tunnel, because the stars weren't visible. I
wondered if anyone in the Trisepat was bothered by that, or if they had all so
long ago grown accustomed to this type of travel that they didn't notice. I
certainly missed the familiar pinpoints of light, even though, rationally, I
knew they were not at all the same stars I normally saw.

Sipping the tea, I let my mind wander – which can be a dangerous occupation for
a joined Trill, I might add. Julian and I had met more species than I could keep
track of yesterday, although my husband did his normal wonderful job of
cataloguing all of them in his mind. We had also gone through more Trisepat
history, reading from the computer records in the evening in our quarters. I was
still stunned by how much we had in common with the Trisepat, and how lucky we
were that we found them in our forays through the wormhole, and not the Dominion
that Weyoun had told us about. The history of the Trisepat was, of course, much
more detailed and varied than the summary given to us by the legislator, and we
had still so much to learn, but there was no way to do so in one day. Or even
two, I mused, a smile quirking my lips. We'd be in the Trisepat core the
following day, inundated with even more new species and new people.

I let myself feel a glow of pride at what I'd accomplished since arriving on
Terok Nor. Benjamin and I were the ones who discovered the wormhole, the first
stable wormhole known to the Federation, and now Julian and I were the first to
make contact with a democratic political organization like the Federation.
Considering that the Federation had made contact with several hostile
organization, like the Klingons and the Borg, it was nice to meet another
political entity that was interested in the same things we were. It took my mind
back to the merger between the Alliance and the Federation and even further back
to the initial contact, which had proven much more succesful that contact with
the Klingon Empire.

A soft noise distracted me from my thoughts and I turned to see Julian standing
in the doorway of the bedroom, arms crossed loosely and smiling at me.

"You were a million kilometers away," he commented.

I smiled back at him and thought of the hundreds upon hundreds of billions of
people in this universe and how we had still somehow managed to meet each other.

"Guilty as charged," I replied.

He slipped up beside me and wrapped an arm warmly about my waist.

"All quiet on the western front?" he asked.

I gave him a puzzled look and he chuckled.

"What?" I asked.

"It's an old expression from Earth. It means that nothing's happening."

I smiled, leaning over to give him a kiss.

"There's no military action, anyway," I agreed. Julian nodded, eyes twinkling.

"Hopefully there won't be," he said.

I cocked an eyebrow.

"Are you worried about that?" I asked.

"I bow to your expert opinion on the subject of diplomacy," he told me. "It's
more the Klingons I worry about, and their reaction."

I nodded slowly.

"Good point," I sighed.

Julian pulled me into a one-armed hug and kissed my cheek.

"But not our problem," he said. "That's what we have diplomats for."

I winked at him.

"I used to be a diplomat."

Julian grinned.

"I know. And the captain may still call you an old man, but I certainly know
better than that."

I kissed him again.

"Have I ever mentioned that I love you?"

"I can recall one or two occasions where you may have expressed that opinion,"
he replied. I chuckled, tweaking his ear, and he yelped. "Why are you up so
early anyway?"

"Woke up from a dream and wanted some tea," I said.

"And then you were contemplating the universe?"

"Just this part of it."

Julian smiled again.

"The illustrious Trisepat. It's amazing what one day in a penal colony will do
to a person."

I gave him a surprised look. He shook his head.

"No, I want to know if you're all right. I'm fine," he assured me.

"You're not just – what do the psychologists call it?"

"Compartmentalizing. And no, I'm not."

"I'm all right," I told him. "It was frightening, but all told, we weren't
harmed and I have eight lifetimes of experience to help me deal with just about
anything."

"Good," said Julian. "Want some breakfast?"

"I do," I replied. He headed to the replicator and ordered something Trisepat
for us. I smiled, sinking down onto one of the plush chairs that surrounded the
low tables that were used for eating. In this situation, another distinct
advantage to being joined was the ability to easily appreciate new cuisines.

Julian handed me a square plate and sat down in the chair beside mine. In truth,
I was more glad that I could say that he was there with me. When I looked back
over the past day, I knew I could have survived it without much trouble, but
there was something more solid about the experience knowing Julian had shared it
with me. I had noticed that when I first met him. Back then, I had not been
joined, had not had the same self-confidence I gained after becoming Jadzia Dax.
Julian overflowed with confidence, and still did. And I knew that he now drew
from mine as well.

I used to wonder if we would have stayed together had I not been joined, but I
had stopped eventually, knowing that it didn't matter. I had been joined, and we
had stayed together, and I could no longer fathom a past without Julian, nor
really imagine a future. There would be a Dax, eventually, who had no Julian,
but it was not this Dax, and not at this time.

"This isn't half bad," Julian commented, gesturing at his food with a fork,
which we had painstakingly programmed into the replicator the day before.
"Tangier than I'm used to."

"I could use a raktajino," I replied and Julian laughed.

"The trappings of home," he said.

"Of the Klingon Empire," I corrected.

"If they are going to supply us with trappings, we could do worse than their
coffee. I wonder what addictive substances the Trisepat will supply to us."

"Diplomacy first, Jules, then trade."

"That's not how Quark would have it."

"And we are not the Ferengi Empire. Thankfully."

Julian laughed again and finished up his breakfast. He waited until I had done
the same, then returned our plates to the replicator. As he did so, the door
buzzer sounded, an alien sound that made my ears tingle. I got up and crossed
the small room to admit our visitor. On the other side of the threshold stood a
small kbsai woman, her skin tinged a faint green, her eyes the same colour, but
a vibrant, darker shade, and her hair a shocking black with purple hints.

"Good morning," she said, turning her head slightly to the right, then inclining
it, first to me, then to Julian. "I am Navord, Legislator Weyoun's Companion.
One of our agents, Ava, would like to meet with you. She is a Changeling, and
the legislator has told her that you have Changelings on your space station."

I glanced back at Julian and he gave me a questioning glance. I was, of course,
the superior officer, and I had much more diplomatic experience than he did. I
nodded, turning back to Navord.

"Of course."

"Excellent. You may accompany me."

Julian joined me and we fell into step behind the woman. There was no guessing
at her age, because she was the second kbsai we'd met and I had read the night
before that they lived up to ages of nearly two hundred Federation years.

"What is it that a companion does?" Julian asked as we followed her down the
well-lit corridor. She glanced over her shoulder at him, smiling, and I resisted
the urge to smack him lightly on the shoulder.

"Perhaps it doesn't translate well," Navord agreed. "Because it is not of a
personal nature. I act at Legislator Weyoun's telepathic aid. All non-telepathic
politicians have them. It is disadvantageous in the Trisepat to be a
non-telepath, yet we are a democracy, so we try and eliminate this inequality.
Because there are several telepathic races, very little can be kept secret for
long, but it is in Legislator Weyoun's best interests to be kept abreast of any
new information by someone who works directly for him."

Julian nodded and I had to agree that it made sense. There were a total of four
fully telepathic races in the Trisepat. The Gri'Thethi were among the three
founders of the Trisepat, and the kbsai had been the fourth race to join,
marking the beginnings of the expansion of Trisepat space.

The Trisepat ships were far more colourful than Starfleet vessels, and I found
myself enjoying the differences as we passed them by. Some of the windows,
although not all, were decorated with intricately painted symbols, the meanings
of which I could not even guess. When I stopped to admire on in closer detail,
Navord told me that they were all hand-painted. There were also small nooks in
many of the corridors into which were nestled chairs, small tables, and various
art objects. I wondered if some of the long-term assignment Starfleet ships
would benefit from similar set up; after all, they were meant to be cities of a
sort. The Enterprise had some of the same luxuries, but very few other
exploratory ships did.

Navord eventually stopped at a set of doors like our own and requested entry.
She left us there when the door opened, admitting us to a very similar set of
quarters, and I wondered in passing how many guest quarters there were on this
ship.

Ava, the Changeling, was waiting for us, and I noticed her quarters were smaller
than ours. Perhaps because we were diplomatic guests, or perhaps because she was
a Changeling and did not require as much space as we did. On the station, Odo
had quarters the same size as all other personnel, but there wasn't much choice
on Terok Nor.

Ava looked somewhat different from Odo: her features were more defined, and she
seemed more at ease in her environment. Odo always seemed to hold a part himself
back, whereas I did not get the same sense from Ava. She beckoned us in with a
smooth gesture, stepping back and extending an arm. I wondered if this was a
universal gesture, or if she had somehow instinctively understood the gestures
Julian and I were used to.

"Thank you for coming," she said as we took seats on the low, comfortable couch.
Her voice was low and melodious, matching the dim, warm lighting of the room.
Odo kept his quarters much like this – at least, he had the few times I had been
inside of them – and I wondered if this was a preference his race shared, or
just the coincidence of personal preference.

"It's our pleasure," I replied smoothly, falling back into the comfortable
rhythms of diplomacy I'd inherited and learned from Curzon. "It's a privilege
for us to meet another Changeling."

"Yes, I understand that the one you call Odo has been on your station for some
time," she commented, perching lightly and comfortably onto the arm of a chair.

I nodded.

"Yes, although the station was technically under the jurisdiction of the Bajoran
and Cardassian Alliance when he first began living there. It has only more
recently come under Federation administration. Odo is legally a Bajoran citizen
and has lived in Bajoran space as far back as he can remember."

Ava nodded.

"Centuries ago, we sent out one hundred newly formed Changelings – infants, to
you – to explore the universe. Since the fall of the Dominion, we've been trying
to find them and bring them home, but it can be difficult, as you may be able to
imagine. It's a big galaxy."

"Isn't it just?" Julian replied.

"I know you must have many questions for me," Ava said, leaning forward
slightly, and I saw a glint in her eyes that told me she wanted something from
us. "But please, can you start by telling me everything you can about Odo?"

We left sometime later, and my brain felt like it was packed to its limits with
information. Ruefully I wondered if I could take over the memory space that
former hosts were taking up for this new knowledge. We had so many answers, but
with each one came dozens of new questions. The mere hours we'd been with the
Trisepat were nowhere near enough for us to learn everything we wanted to know,
and compounding that was that they wanted to know everything about us. I had
never experienced such a collision of cultures before. Even Curzon, when
negotiating between the Federation and the Alliance, had a long history of
contact between both sides. This felt like running full tilt, eyes closed, into
a bright unknown. I could tell Julian was equally as overwhelmed, because he
altered between excited outbursts and impatient, barely restrained pacing when
we were on own our, his eyes bright, his mind obviously whirling. I didn't even
want to contemplate what that must be like for his genetically engineered brain.

The days until we arrived in the Trisepat core were filled with meetings, both
on the ship and via subspace with diplomats and politicians on the core planets.
When we weren't having official meetings, we were the subject of social
engagements on the ship. Everyone wanted a glimpse of us, and it would have been
exhausting had we not felt the same way – and had I not had some exposure to it
thanks to Curzon's experiences. It was obvious fairly quickly that the Vorta
were one of the most social races we would encounter, because Weyoun was always
in the public eye, and obviously very good at his job as Legislator, smoothing
our way during meetings when necessary and keeping an eye on us during social
events to make sure we weren't overwhelmed. Despite the vast interstellar
distances that separated the Trisepat from the Federation, politicians were
politicians everywhere.

On the last day of our voyage, Weyoun and Ada escorted us to the ship's large
observation lounge. There were crew members there relaxing and chatting,
obviously happy to be back in the core, but nowhere near as apprehensive and
excited as we were. Julian laced his fingers through mine as Weyoun led us to
the floor to ceiling viewports. There was nothing to see for a moment until we
dropped out from the subspace tunnel and normal space reasserted itself. A
single bright star in the near distance obscured every thing else for a moment,
and I could tell immediately that we were inside of a star system. A moment
later, we sailed silently past a planet which had three moons in various orbits,
and some local traffic. Another moment and we were passed by a smaller ship that
was inbound as we were.

"I promise you a view unlike anything else you'll see in the Trisepat," Weyoun
said. "The fourth planet is Elte, the homeworld of the Gri'Thethi and the seat
of government for the Trisepat."

Julian squeezed my hand and shot him a quick smile and a glance out of the
corner of my eye as we negotiated a small asteroid field and approached an
obviously M-class planet. The system traffic had picked up considerably as we
headed toward the star, and our ship was slowing noticeably. People were
drifting over slowly, taking up places near the view ports, all of them giving
off an air of muted interest. A few of them were talking, but most were just
watching.

Another ship slipped into a path below us and then we were pulling into orbit
above Elte, a satellite drifting slowly past, its green and blue lights winking.

Then I saw it and gasped, hearing Julian mirror my unrestrained sentiment. My
hand flew to my mouth as I stared at the mass of lights spiraling out below us.
It was night over this half of Elte, and our arrival had probably been timed
just for this.

Below us was a vast city, its curves of light exactly mirroring the spread of
the Milky Way galaxy. Here and there were brighter lights corresponding to stars
that I recognized. Instinctively, I oriented myself and was able to pick out the
arm in which Trill and the Federation were located.

"My God," Julian whispered, taking half a step forward, his eyes fixed
unerringly on the wonder below. I tore my gaze away, looking up at Weyoun, and
found his eyes twinkling and his smile bright.

"Welcome to the Trisepat, Commander, Doctor," he said graciously. "There are
many, many people down there waiting to meet you. Won't you come with me?"

---

It was almost two nearly sleepless days before the bulk of the Starfleet
diplomatic corps arrived in the Trisepat core, during which time Julian and I
had met more people than even his genetically enhanced memory could keep track
of. It had been a whirlwind unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Even the
merger negotiations between the Federation and the Alliance that Curzon had led
had been so much more sedate – but then, both sides had been long familiar with
each other, and there was no real novelty of meeting. Here, everything was new,
everything was exotic, and that's no small praise coming from an eight-times
joined Trill. There were so many new races, so much new technology, new foods,
new drinks, new plants, new sights. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined
anything like this, nor do I think I would have been able to. Even when Benjamin
and I had discovered the wormhole, I had not conceived of this possibility. I
was certain there was something out there, but the sheer scale of the Trisepat
and the variety of its members was dizzying. When I had a moment to think on it,
it seemed like a dream, but then the demands would catch up with us again, and
reality would reassert itself.

In all of the chaos and excitement, my favourite memory is of Julian, during a
brief respite, when Legislator Weyoun had managed to get us a Trisepat hour to
ourselves, in a small terrarium in a zoo in the capital. It was the middle of
the night, neither of us were the least interested in sleeping, and the exotic
plants and their heady smells would have been enough to entrance me, but the
gardens were populated by small creatures, not unlike Earth butterflies,
somewhat smaller, and bioluminescent. In the midst of this tiny oasis, one of
them had landed on Julian's left hand. I watched him gaze at it, almost
hypnotized, moving his hand slowly, the insect leaving faint blue streaks in the
air, and it is a memory that Dax will retain for its entire life, passed on
after Jadzia to all of my future hosts. It was such a rare moment of
transcendence and tranquillity, in which Julian was focused solely on this one
small thing, his whole genetically engineered brain absorbed by the experience.
Most people want my most cherished memory to have something to do with the
diplomacy, but I wasn't present for most of it. I am not Curzon, and it comforts
me to know that, in the middle of all the exhilaration, I retained the most
important thing to me.

When the diplomatic corps arrived, they were accompanied by the Quicksilver and
Benjamin Sisko. We were both there to greet him, in the mess of Trisepat
politicians, diplomats, dignitaries and security personnel. Benjamin had no mind
for the politicians and diplomats; he was there for us, not for them. I could
tell he was still processing the vast array of new people we'd encountered, but
when he saw us, he focused solely on us, striding over with Michael Eddington in
tow, at a respectful distance.

"Old man," he said, and I heard the relief in his voice. How hard, I thought, to
have lost what he lost, to see all potential separations as the last and
permanent. I embraced him warmly in return.

"It's good to see you, Benjamin," I said.

He grinned at me, assured, and shook Julian's hand.

"You're both all right?" he demanded, eyeing us each up and down, a frown on his
face.

"Fine, Benjamin. They've more than taken good care of us."

"You can't seem to stay away from the excitement, eh?" he asked then, dark eyes
twinkling, but before I could reply, I spotted a volley of Starfleet admirals
and their staff bearing down on us. Julian had seen them, too, and he got that
hard glint in his eye that he always had when faced with Starfleet brass. He
smoothed it over almost immediately; I doubted Benjamin had seen it, but I had.
He had too many sour memories of the trial that had almost gotten him expelled
from Starfleet Academy when he was a cadet, shortly before I'd met him.

"Commander Dax, Doctor Bashir," the lead admiral greeted us. She was an older
Vulcan woman, her black hair highlighted with grey, and her cool, calm eyes
touched by faint wrinkles. I couldn't remember her name, but trust Julian to
come up with it.

"Admiral Parven," he greeted.

"I am gratified to find you well," she said, which was as close to an
exclamation of joy as I had ever heard from a Vulcan. "I must say, Starfleet
owes you a great debt of thanks, but I suspect this will go unattended over the
next several weeks."

"Establishing ties between the Federation and the Trisepat should come first," I
agreed.

Parven inclined her head.

"I respect your knowledge of diplomatic proceedings, Commander. I am inclined to
ask for your assistance during the negotiations."

I hesitated a moment, then shook my head.

"Thank you, sir, but I feel I should decline. I am not Curzon Dax, although I
hold his memories, and I am a science officer, no longer a diplomat. There are
more than enough qualified people here to negotiate with the Trisepat."

"But none of them is responsible for initiating contact," Parven replied with
equanimity.

"No, sir," I agreed, smiling slightly. "But I have done my job as a scientist in
the discovery. I would gracefully bow out now."

Parven inclined her head to me again.

"As you wish," she said, then turned her level, dark-eyed gaze to Julian.
"Doctor?"

"To be frank, Admiral, I am much more interested in learning than negotiating."

"Very well, then," Parven said, and I was more than a little surprised when none
of the other admirals behind her pressed the point, because there had been some
displeased expressions when Julian and I had answered, and some muttering to one
another or to aids. When Parven bid us good-bye and turned to leave, heading for
the press of Starfleet and Trisepat personnel, I fully expected at least one of
the other admirals to approach us. A few of them shot us meaningful looks, and
one of them frowned pointedly at us, but they all followed Parven, with varying
degrees of reluctance.

Once they were out of earshot, Benjamin gave a low whistle, then a chuckle.
Julian raised an eyebrow at our CO.

"All right, I'll bite," I said. "Who is she?"

"Admiral Vantek's right hand," Benjamin replied, referring to the chief of the
Starfleet diplomatic corps, who was of course present, but already immersed in
discussions. We had not even caught a glimpse of the Andorian woman when the
fleet had arrived. "Give her five years, and she'll be running the corps.
Vantek's set to retire soon, and this will be the last and biggest
accomplishment of her career."

Julian echoed Benjamin's whistle from a moment ago.

"What a way to retire," he said, gazing into the throng of people.

"Or to start a career," Benjamin said, giving me a pointed look.

"Not interested," I replied easily and truthfully. I was more than a little
interested in the Trisepat itself, but the scientist in me hungered for
knowledge rather than debates. Let the accord be hammered out by others; Dax had
already done enough of that for many life times. There was so much here to know,
technology, natural history, astronomy, everything my heart could desire. And I
had no doubt that I'd be given my choice of assignments to study Trisepat
science if I wanted. Nor would Julian be denied any access to medical
investigations, at least not by Starfleet. I suspected our new-found neighbours
would not be adverse to it, either.

"You two look as if you haven't slept in awhile," Benjamin commented. "And
there's a ship full of people waiting to see you again."

The thought of our friends from Terok Nor who had crewed the Quicksilver turned
my thoughts away from the press of people around us. I smiled at Julian, who
looked a little relieved at the thought of getting some peace and quiet, and
fell in step with Benjamin, heading for the ship.

The negotiations would go on for several months, because something of that
magnitude could not be accomplished in a short time, although we were by no
means required, or encouraged, to stay beyond the initial celebrations. After
nine days, the Federation diplomats had to settle down the nitty gritty of real
negotiation, and not just fanfare and public displays of cooperation. For all
that camaraderie looked certain, real work had to be done.

But before that, the Trisepat showed the Federation that it knew how to receive
new guests in style. There was no hint here of the Trisepat's reaction to the
Dominion that we had learned of on our voyage to the core. Like us, they seemed
capable of both great acts of friendship, and great acts of self-preservation.
When I thought about it, the idea of decimating two entire populations was
unnerving, but then I compared our reaction to the Borg, and what we would do to
such a danger as the Dominion had clearly posed, especially if our space was
routinely violated and our attempts at diplomacy undercut. Perhaps we would not
have responded with so much ferocity, but it is impossible to say. It had not
been us.

Despite Parven's predictions, we were the guests of honour at more than one
celebration, and Starfleet admirals fell all over themselves to lavish praise on
us. I had the same wry thoughts as Julian: we were only doing routine work in
the Gamma Quadrant, and had the misfortune to be captured, and then the good
chance to be rescued by the Trisepat, who were already looking for their own
captured spies. It was not as if we had intended this, but then, no one could
have intended this without first knowing of the Trisepat's existence. By the
time the accolades were through, at least for the moment, I was happy with the
idea of heading home, and of the prospect of learning more about our new allies
in time. We would have enough of it – I was certain that we wouldn't learn
everything the Trisepat had to share in my lifetime. Nor they from us, either.

The rewards weren't spare, though. I was promoted to full Commander, and Julian
to Lieutenant Commander, at the first opportunity. The honour should have fallen
to some Starfleet Admiral, but Admiral Parven, with resources the depths of
which I could barely fathom, arranged it so that Benjamin was the one issuing
our promotions. He did so in front of an immense gathering of most of the
Federation and Starfleet personnel, and no small number of Trisepat dignitaries,
either. This included a smiling Legislator Weyoun, and Ava, who watched the
proceedings with an air of anthropological interest. I suspect that a great
number of the Trisepat people weren't really bothered by our promotions, but
were there to say they'd been there, and had seen the two Federation people who
had first made contact be honoured by their own government.

There were other accolades as well, toasts, speeches, greetings from notables
such as the President of the Federation and the heads of Starfleet Command, as
well. I drew on Curzon's experience to stay collected and pleasant throughout,
and I think Julian drew from me. Legislator Weyoun was more than happy to spend
his time with us, and I judged that this was not just for political gain, but
that he sincerely appreciated our company. In a sea of so many new aliens, most
of them strangers, I was thankful to have a high-placed companion whom I could
consider a true friend. His own Companion, Navord, was helpful in deciphering
cultural nuances that would have gone unnoticed by either of us, and in fielding
inquires to meet us. I hoped Weyoun never underappreciated her; in the short
time I'd known her, I could see how immensely valuable she would be to him,
aside from interpreting telepathic communication to which he was deaf.

Finally, after a week and a half of having been instant political celebrities,
Julian and I, and the rest of the Quicksilver crew, were cleared to return home.
We would be travelling by subspace tunnel, accompanied by a Trisepat diplomatic
ship, to the wormhole. I suspected there were Trisepat citizens on Terok Nor
already, and that Quark was already scheming to concoct questionable business
ventures with them. I mentioned this to Julian late one night, our first night
of travel on the ship, and the first we had had together without a press of
interested people wanting to meet us, in nearly two weeks. He chuckled when I
said this and I could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest, against which I
was resting my cheek.

"You're probably right," he admitted. "But at least it will distract him for
awhile from chasing after you."

I raised my head to look at him; in our tiny quarters, the lights were off, but
the glow from the replicator and the muted emergency lights that marked the door
let me see the outline of his face. I grinned and kissed him; Quark's attentions
were flattering, but that was all.

"Can I ask you something?" Julian said after we'd pulled apart. I nodded,
knowing he could see me. "They offered you a command."

It wasn't a question, but I'd been expecting it.

"I'm happy where I am, Jules," I replied, kissing him again lightly. "I don't
want a command of my own; I want to be a scientist. And right now, the most
exciting place to be for a scientist is Terok Nor. We're at the mouth of the
wormhole, Jules. We're the closest contact in the Alpha Quadrant to the
Trisepat."

He nodded, letting a strand of my hair slip of his fingers.

"What else, Zia?" he asked. I raised an eyebrow in the darkness, but I wasn't
all that surprised he'd caught on to the fact that there was more.

"I don't think I'd be good at it," I replied.

Julian sat up quickly in surprise, propping himself on one forearm, looking
through the near darkness at me.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. "You'd be perfect. If it's the specific
ship you're worried about, Starfleet would give you anything you wanted right
now."

I looked back at him, at the shadows and lines created by his face in the
darkness.

"It's not the Shenzai that bothers me," I said. "It's not the command they
offered me. And I'm not worried about the duties, Jules. I could do them; you're
right. At least, up to a point."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

I gave him a smile and he touched my cheek lightly.

"Jules, I saw what happened to Benjamin when he lost Jennifer at Wolf 359. I
can't imagine being faced with anything like that. I know a lot of Starfleet
officers have to choose, and choose to be alone, or confront giving up their
partners to distance to keep them safe. I could handle command, until the point
where I had to choose between it and you. Because I know the choice I'd make.
It's the choice I'd always make, and I can't change that, not for the best
command Starfleet could offer. I don't want to."

He stared at me through the darkness. Julian would be forever barred from
command, as a consequence of his genetic engineering. A Starfleet tribunal had
decided years ago to deny him the possibility, based on the actions of Khan
Singh, for fear that if given power, Julian would abuse it. I knew that wasn't
the case, and so did he, but he had no desire to be in command, only to be a
doctor.

"Did you think otherwise?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," he replied honestly. I smiled again, and leaned down to kiss
him. "Jules, my life is full enough of new things. The wormhole, the Trisepat,
all of it. It's more than I imagined when I started at the Academy, when I got
to Terok Nor. I love it, and I wouldn't change it. But I'd never want to do it
alone. Let there be one thing that is constant in my life. I don't want to lose
that."

He was quiet for a moment longer, then relaxed a little, weaving a hand into my
hair against the back of my head.

"I think," he said, pausing to kiss me again, "That I can live with that."

---

continued in the sixth story in the Greensleeves series 'Incursion'