The BLTS Archive - A Shadow of My Life second in the Greensleeves series by Scopes Monkey (melanie.crisfield@gmail.com) --- Published: 04-30-06 Author's Note: This is set immediately after Chapter 8 of Greensleeves. Read Greensleeves first if you haven't, or else this won't make sense. And it will spoil things. Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek and I am not making any money off of this. --- The cargo bay looks exactly like the one I just left: empty except for me, filled with deep shadows cast by dim patches of light. I have no idea if I've actually gone anywhere, or if I'm back where I started from. I look down at myself. I am still dressed in the black, grey and teal uniform. I wonder if my combadge will work here, if here is in fact home. I wonder how I will determine if I've arrived back in my universe yet. My memories are jumbled; there are things I can no longer recall now that I knew just moments ago, and memories pushing to the surface that seem long buried. Perhaps there is a way to know for sure. "Computer, locate Doctor Simon Tarses." "Doctor Simon Tarses is on deck fourteen, section seven-alpha." The relief is so strong that I allow myself to sink to my knees. It washes over me like a wave of warm water. I am home. Simon is right outside the cargo bay. I can still feel the anomaly behind me, pulling gently at me, and I realize the other Julian must be in the cargo bay on his side, on Deep Space Nine. I am on Terok Nor. This station never had to change names. As memories from the other side begin to fade, I start to recall my own life. My mind centers on Jadzia, which doesn't surprise me. I feel a sudden, sharp and very deep longing for her. I am sure she is on the other side of the door, but I know I can't leave until they tell me that it's safe to do so. I remember the very first time I met Jadzia, when I was twenty-three. Shan introduced us, at a party. Even back then, before we knew about her genetic anomaly, Shan had great instincts and intuition. I remember being so fascinated by Jadzia; I'd never met a Trill before, even though there were a fair number of them at Starfleet Academy. And she was so beautiful. I wonder now if I seemed tongue tied back then. But she had taken to me and I to her. The rest was history. My history. I remember our wedding, which was small and simple. A Starfleet affair, although her parents and two sisters had been there. My parents, of course, had not. They were in prison for my illegal genetic enhancement, too. That's a cold memory. The other Julian, the one from Deep Space Nine, found out earlier, and it had been a private matter until recently. He had a relationship with his parents. I found out when everyone else did, when I was twenty-two, by mistake. I was never supposed to know. No one was. I nearly lost my position at the academy and in medical school. It was only thanks to the supreme effort of my teachers, who believed I would be a superb doctor no matter what my genetic background was, that I was allowed to stay in the program. I have been denied the right ever to be in command; Starfleet feels people of my abilities can be dangerously ambitious. How strange it is that I have no ambition for command. Their caution is for naught. The memory of Renzia's birth flits into my mind and I am taken from a negative experience to one of the most positive, most defining moments of my life. Jadzia and I had taken a long time in deciding to have a child, and there had been the uncertainty leading up to it. After all, she is a Trill and I am a human. She had required ovarian resequencing, a tricky procedure in anyone, especially in a joined Trill. But she had responded very well to it, and human-Trill pregnancies were less problematic than other Trill-alien combinations. How strange it had been to think of myself as an alien. The station had welcome Renzia as its own. I never knew how supportive and dedicated my crew mates and superiors could be until the moment she was born. I remember handing her to Jadzia the first time, a person who had been both a mother and a father, and seeing the utter joy and relief on her face. I remember Sisko holding Renzi for the first time, and how delighted he had been. I remember how tiny she'd been when I had delivered her into this galaxy, how holding her small, slimy body had been so shocking, so numbing. So miraculous. I wonder if the other Jadzia Dax will have children with that Klingon husband of hers. How disconcerting it was here, now, on Terok Nor, to think of a Klingon marrying a Trill, a Klingon serving in Starfleet. I wonder if there is a Worf, son of Mohg, here, somewhere, in this galaxy. I wonder if it would ever occur to my Jadzia to find a Klingon man attractive. I do not understand why she did over there, on Deep Space Nine. Perhaps the Julian there will find the nerve to set tell her how he feels, to set things right by him. Perhaps not. It is not my decision to make. I made my choice long ago, and have never once regretted it. Even after Jadzia had been newly joined and neither of us knew what to expect, what would happen. I had been terrified we would separate, and it seemed we might. The first two weeks were the hardest, but I remember when she looked at me and I knew she was still my Jadzia. I was still her Jules. The com broke through my thoughts. "Sisko to Bashir." So good to hear my captain's voice again, even though it sounds the same as the other Sisko. I swallow and clear my throat. "Bashir here, Captain." "Have we got you back, Julian?" I rise to my feet. "Yes," I said with a solid certainty. I can feel my own relief as if it were theirs. "We're going to initiate an anti-graviton pulse to drive the anomaly back to Bajor's Kuiper Belt. We're going to beam you out a moment before we start. Stand by." "Yes, sir," I reply. The minutes slip by, and, as they do, I feel the other universe retreating more and more from my mind. Would there come a time when I would remember nothing? Already, I cannot remember with whom the other Federation was at war, nor do I remember how or when or why the Klingon Empire allied itself with the Federation. I can remember that the Cardassians and the Bajorans over there are bitter enemies, and that those Cardassians occupied that Bajor. But I no longer remember why that happened. It seems so strange to think of those Cardassians in light of the ones I know here. I can remember they were highly xenophobic, unlike here. The two clash in my mind, and the temperament of the alternate Cardassians begins to fade. "We're transporting you now, Julian," Sisko says just before the world vanishes into a tingling orange hum. Then I'm no longer in the cargo bay but in the corridor right outside. Simon is in front of me instantly, moving with his Vulcan assurance, scanning me with a medical tricorder. Behind him, I can see Sisko evaluating me, noting my strange uniform. "He's the right Julian," Simon says, looking back at Sisko. "No trace of varicella-zoster virus." "Chicken pox?" I ask. "Long story," Sisko replies. Simon steps back and I see Jadzia and Renzia for the first time. For a moment, Jadzia and I just stare at each other. What a strange sight I must be to her. To me, she is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. I have never seen her looking quite so magnificent, nor have I ever been so glad to see her in my entire life. "Jules," she says softly and her voice is like some long forgotten song, some soothing balm. I break into a smile; I cannot help myself. "Zia," I reply. I step toward her and she toward me and I bundle her and our daughter in my arms. She wraps her free arm around my neck, pulling me tightly toward her and I understand now with all my heart and soul what I have been trying to understand since I stepped through the anomaly in the empty, echoing cargo bay. It is real. I am home. --- continued in the third story in the Greensleeves series 'One Fine Day'