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From: Brenda Antrim <bantrim@u.washington.edu>
To: jfy@cis.ksu.edu
Subject: DSN Story:_Flashback_ (revised)
Date: Fri, 22 Apr 1994 10:47:05 -0700 (PDT)

Hello!  Here is an expanded version of my Deep Space Nine story 
_Flashback_.  Angela gave me this address again to have it put into the 
archives.  (Thanx!)  I hope you enjoy it!



Flashback by Brenda S. Antrim copyright 1994 all rights reserved.
Characters copyright Paramount pictures, all rights reserved.  This is
strictly nonprofessional, fan fiction. Any resemblance to persons living
or dead is devoutly wished.  If any material is replicated give the author
full credit or she'll come after you.  Comments are sincerely solicited. 
Enjoy. 


	Julian awoke with a start.  The nightmare had been coming more
often, sometimes two or three times a week.  He was getting weary,
straining his self-control to the breaking point to keep from screaming. 
The nights were affecting his days.  He didn't know how much longer he
could maintain the fiction.  Kira, O'Brien, even Dax, all of them had
believed his carefully constructed facade.  They would be shocked to learn
the truth and he was nearly desperate to keep it from them.  He had worked
so hard, for so long, to present an image to the others.  Gradually he had
gained their respect, if not their friendship.  He knew, in his soul, if
they discovered his past he would lose even their respect.
	Each dream was the same.  He was back on the streets, an orphan
again.  The sun burned his skin, his body clothed in ragged teal linen,
his eyes narrowed against the glare from the sands, his lips cracked.  The
slave band clamped his upper arm and the copper bells surrounded his left
ankle.  Their chimes announced his every step, so his stable owner would
always find him.  He was seventeen again, selling his body to survive,
cutting off his natural telempathic powers to keep his soul from
shriveling away.
	The stable was his home, its prisoners his family.  He was known
as Ishmir the Healer.  When one of the other slaves became ill from the
demands of the streets, he was there with herbs and empathy.  When he was
in danger, Aliera the Warrior would protect him.  But that day Ali wasn't
there.
	Footsteps cracked the sand behind him.  Damn.  He hadn't caught
his breath from the last one.  Muscles ached and his senses felt dull. 
Suppressing his mental gifts left him vulnerable since he couldn't read
potential violence from clients and avoid it.  But if he didn't serve them
his owner would beat him again, and he'd barely recovered from the last
session.  With a soft desert curse, he swept his long curls away from his
face.  The gold in his ear caught the sun.  The flash caught the attention
of his potential client and he checked.  Then the stranger walked swiftly
toward him.
	Hands reached out to him.  Hard strength surrounded him, bending
him back, covering him.  Once more he could not move.  Sensations flooded
through him.  Pain, reluctant pleasure, random flashes of telepathic
contact swirling between him and his tormentor.  Again he was powerless. 
Some deep part of his soul was suffocating and he knew he had to escape to
survive.  Now he could awaken before it finished.  Then he had not been so
blessed.  Always there was a scream just behind his teeth.
	The insistent beeping from his wall communicator interrupted the
waking nightmare.  Shaken, he tried to pull himself together to answer the
call.
	"Bashir."  Shaky, but hopefully not noticeably so.
	"Julian?  Is everything all right?"  Jadzia Dax's gentle voice was
laced with concern.  So much for his hopes.
	He was silent for a moment, fiercely ordering his thoughts.  When
he felt he had sufficient control to speak without having his voice shake,
he sat up and squared his shoulders.
	"I'm sorry, Jadzia, I was -- distracted.  What can I do for you?"
	"We had planned to meet at Quark's this evening."
	Julian winced.  How could he have forgotten?  It wasn't precisely
a date with the lovely Trill, but it was as close as he'd come in almost
two years.  His weary mind had been too distracted by the surfacing of
long buried memories.
	"Are we still on for that?"  Dax's voice broke into his reverie.
	"Of course!  Quark has been bragging on his exotic chanteuse.  Mmm. 
Give me a few moments to change.  Shall I meet you at your quarters?" 
This last was asked hopefully.  Beneath his long infatuation with Jadzia
was a new, darker compulsion to bury old pain with brighter pleasures.
	"No," she replied dryly, "I'm already on the Promenade.  I'll see
you at Quark's."
	"Save me a seat."
	The comm link broke off, and Julian pulled himself from the
tumbled bedcovers to shower and change.  Perhaps music and the company of
others who knew nothing of his real past would keep the darkness at bay. 
At least for a while. 


	
********************************************************************



	The promenade was crawling with station denizens pursuing their
usual business.  Customers and vendors bickered, friends greeted one
another, deals were made.  The bustle should have reassured Julian, but it
only increased his tension.  The pressure behind his temples was building
again, and he was conscious of a vague feeling of dread.
	In his preoccupation, he didn't see Major Kira until he bumped
into her, causing her to wheel on him with instinctive grace.
	"What the--"  Her dark eyes narrowed and a faint expression of
irritation flashed across her strong features.  "What's the rush, Doctor? 
Got a medical emergency on the promenade?"  Heavy sarcasm laced the
question.
	Bashir focused with difficulty on the Bajoran woman blocking his
path.  "No, I'm late to meet Dax."  A thought struck him.  "Why don't you
come along?  Quark's been promoting this new singer.  She's supposed to be
quite something."
	"Come along?"  A twinkle showed briefly in her eyes at the idea of
showing up with the doctor - at his invitation - for his date with Dax. 
Maybe he was getting cold feet at the prospect of actually getting what
he'd been so actively pursuing for so long.  "Are you sure she won't
mind?"
	"Why would she?"  He looked confused.
	"Oh, no reason."
	He gave her a preoccupied glance, then turned toward Quark's. 
Kira allowed her grin to bloom for a moment, but quickly sobered.  This
was unlike the young doctor.  *I wonder what's up?* With a decisive little
nod of her head, she decided to keep an eye on Bashir.  At least until she
found out what had him distracted enough to invite a third wheel to his
long-awaited date.
	The pressure in Julian's head increased as they came closer to the
bar.  He had taken a painkiller before leaving sickbay, but he was afraid
to take anything very strong.  His control had been eroding since the
nightmares began, and his hold on his telempathic shields was tenuous at
best.  It felt like a rising tide of pain held by a crumbling levy, and if
the barrier broke even the most mind blind Tellarite on the station would
be caught in the backlash.
	Before they crossed the threshold, the rush of pressure crested,
and a crystal clear moment of stillness held him.  He heard the liquid
tones before he could make out the words.  They wrapped him in bonds of
shimmering copper laced with flashes of gold, and he couldn't move.
	
		Brother, sister, friend, lover
		Keeping truth held deep in dreams
		Beating wings of nightmares hover
		Lips kept tight to still the screams

	Sweat broke out along his hairline, tiny beads tracing along his
cheeks.  His feet were frozen in place, his body trembled as if with
fever.  And the nightmare took shape before his eyes.
	The scream didn't make it past his clenched jaw.  The man's strong
hands pulled him into the darkness behind the stall.  His mind shrieked at
him to feel the shadows, concentrate on anything but the sensations
flooding his body.  But he was so tired.  The sand bit into his back,
inflaming half-healed stripes crossing the skin.  His arms came up, not to
push away as his soul demanded, but to pull him forward.  Get it *over*. 
Then he'll *leave*.  As his body bent under the attack, his thoughts
slipped completely away and he lost several moments in a disconnected
haze.  The sharp jolt of pain when the man bit his neck brought him back
to himself, and he knew it was too late.  His endurance had been pushed to
the limits and he no longer had the strength to keep his soul intact under
the constant assault.
	Kira just managed to avoid plowing into Bashir's back as he
stopped cold in the middle of the entryway.  She rolled her eyes at his
apparent bewitchment and stepped around him to enter the bar.  Glancing
over her shoulder to tease Bashir about the singer's effect on his motor
functions, the words died in her throat.  Bashir stood completely still,
except for a fine tremor chasing up and down his frame.  His expression
was blank, and his normally warm caramel skin had a blue white tinge to
it.  His jaw was tightly clenched and a white line was traced around his
full lips.  But the most startling sight was his eyes.  They were huge,
unfocused, with a fine sheen of tears.  And the expression they held was
one of pure terror.
	She caught her breath.  She knew that look, had seen it on others,
on herself, too many times.  He had the look of a disaster survivor who
had come too close to the flames.  Without thinking, she moved closer to
him, putting her body between him and whatever it was in the bar that had
provoked this reaction.
	"Doctor?"  She looked hard into his eyes, willing him to look at
her, not at whatever scene was paralyzing him.
	He didn't respond.
	"Doctor Bashir?  What's wrong?" 

		Turn your head, close your eyes
		Dry hot sky and burning sands

	Julian heard Kira's voice from a distance, but Ishmir was foremost
in his mind. 

		Make your dreams sing with sighs
		Take your life out of my hands

	Kira was becoming concerned.  She reached up and gently touched
his jaw, where a single muscle fluttered, the only movement in his face. 
Gradually, his gaze pulled away from the inner vision and he recalled
himself to reality.  Kira's hand was touching his face, the station deck
was hard under his feet, and that voice continued to pour from the bar. 

		A new life, a new time, another chance
		Tell your lies, change your name and dance.  Dance.

	Aliera.  Julian closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.
	Applause came through the open door, drowning out the final notes. 
Bashir's eyes snapped open and he stepped away from the major.  Her hand
fell from his cheek and she was relieved to see the shadows in his eyes
were gone.
	"Sorry, Major."  Eyes dry again, he had regained control of his
emotions.  Now he was prepared to face his past.  He had no choice.
	"I know this is Dax's line, but -- do you want to talk about it?"
	"No."  Bloody hell, too abrupt.  "No, it's just...I'm a
little...I've a bit of a headache."  That was better.  Softer.
	"If you say so."  She wasn't buying it, but she pried only if she
thought it affected the station.  This looked like a private hell, and she
knew from experience that some private hells were not for others to see. 
She thought fleetingly of Bareil, then turned back to the bar.
	Julian drew a fortifying breath and followed the smaller figure of
the major into the bar.  What he saw didn't surprise him, but it still
dismayed him.  Dax had saved seats -- evidently she had been expecting
Kira too, or perhaps Commander Sisko.  And the seats were front row center
of the stage.  Kira wasn't hesitating, but made straight for the table. 
Dax looked over from her seat and smiled at them both.
	"Kira!  Oh, good, I was hoping you'd show.  For once, the
entertainment is as good as the gambling.  Hello, Julian, it didn't take
you long."  She broke off to stare hard at the young man.  Her tone
changed abruptly, filling with concern.  "Julian.  What happened?"
	His attention was divided between greeting Dax and looking around
for Aliera.  He turned to the Trill when a quick scan didn't reveal the
singer.
	"Hello, Jadzia.  Nothing happened, I'm just a bit tired tonight. 
You look lovely, as usual."
	Dax exchanged glances with Kira, and Kira gave her friend a tiny
shrug.  *I don't know, he's not talking* echoed in the back of Julian's
mind, and he stiffened.
	"Ishmir."
	Julian swiveled to face the sound of her whisper.  She was more
beautiful than ever, slanting emerald eyes over high cheekbones.  Her deep
red hair was smoothed back from her face to cascade down her back.  The
style suited her, highlighting the flyaway brows and delicately pointed
ears.  The glittering bronze gown caught the light, flattering her strong
curves and complimenting the soft mint of her skin.  Aliera combined the
best features of her unknown parents, the strength and intelligence of the
Romulan with the cunning and sensuality of the Human.  She had commanded a
high price for their owner as such an unusual commodity.
	Now she smiled at him.  Viciously.
	"Ishmir?" queried Dax.
	The singer tilted her head to one side.  She was the same height
as Julian and could see his friends over his shoulder.  Dax she dismissed
as unimportant, but she recognized a fellow warrior in Kira -- who was
watching her intently.  She softened her smile and addressed the still
silent doctor.
	"Hello again, Healer."
	Julian now knew the source of his nightmares.  Her presence was a
catalyst for long buried memories.  Forcing a smile on stiff lips, he
turned to the seated women.
	"I'm sorry, ladies.  Aliera is an old friend of mine.  I wasn't
aware she was Quark's new sensation.  It's been quite a long while and
we've quite a lot to catch up on."  He was aware that he was babbling, but
he was driven by an overwhelming need to separate past from present.  He
had to get Aliera away from them.  Turning back to Aliera he quickly
asked, "Do you have a break between sets?"  He took her arm before she
could answer and began to pull her from the floor.  "I'll join you for the
second set," he tossed over his shoulder to his colleagues.  Dax was
looking perplexed and somewhat amused, but Kira just watched
expressionlessly.  He prayed it was indifference, not something more
dangerous to his carefully constructed persona.
	Aliera let him nearly drag her to a secluded corner of the bar. 
Then she started to laugh softly.  Julian looked at her guardedly.
	"Such finesse."  She snorted delicately.  "Been practicing to be a
bouncer, Healer?"
	"I didn't expect you to be here."  Shuttered hazel eyes met
brilliant green ones.
	"Here?  Now?  Or ever?  No, don't answer that."  She put up an
elegant hand to forestall his reply.  "I only fight when I choose now.  I
sing for my keep.  And no one owns me."  She swept an assessing glance
from the top of his shiny curls to the tips of his polished boots. 
"You've changed, though, love.  All your long pretty locks gone.  Such a
nice, neat, dull uniform."
	"Why are you here?"  His hand burned where it touched the flesh of
her upper arm and he pulled it away.  She smiled and moved closer to him
in the shadow of the stairs.  Running one hand along his chest to his
shoulder and cupping the short hair at the nape of his neck with the
other, she leaned forward until their chests touched.  Close as lovers.
	*Because you are here* tendrils of her voice caressed his mind. 

	
And you know why I had to find you.*


	He tried to pull away, but her strength was greater than his. 
Finally, she slid her hands from his body and allowed him to retreat.  A
soft smile played on her lips.  He stared at her, trying to regulate his
breathing.  Hers was not completely steady either, he noted with some
satisfaction.  They had always been able to do this to each other -- wrest
control from one another when no one else could.
	*Why?* he asked silently.
	*To remember why I love you* her eyes went cold, *or kill you.*
	He instinctively backed up a step.
	*Revenge.  You'd be surprised how strong the pull can be.* Her eyes
flared into his and memories swamped both of them.
	"Is this a private stare-off, or can anyone join in?"  Quark's
sarcastic comment broke into their exchange.  Julian started.  Aliera
slewed her gaze toward the Ferengi, who automatically jumped back and
began to assume an apologetic cringe.  Then he remembered that she was his
employee and stopped himself.  Still, he was a little unsure about her, so
he turned to Julian.
	"Doctor Bashir, it's time for the young lady to resume entertaining
my paying customers."
	The doctor brushed past Quark before his mouth closed over the
words, heading for the door.  Quark looked after him quizzically for a
moment, then shrugged.  Humans.
	"The second set will begin in five minutes."  At the sound of her
voice his head snapped up and he found himself nodding agreement.  Before
he realized what he was doing and stopped himself, she swept around him
and headed for the bar.  Quark sniffed, not too loudly, and returned to
the tables to oversee his dealers.
	Dax and Kira observed the strange actions of Bashir and the
Romulan woman from their table.
	"How odd."  Dax wrinkled her nose at Kira.  "I wonder why she
called him Ishmir?  And why he left without even saying anything to us?"
	And why he's so determined we don't hear them talk together,
thought Kira, but she didn't say it aloud.  "Well, he's been acting kind
of strange all day.  Says he's got a headache.  Maybe he just wanted to
give her his room combination and go someplace quieter."  Kira turned an
amused look toward Dax, who joined her in a laugh.  Privately, Kira
wondered about the silent but intensely charged meeting.  The scarcely
concealed hostility of the singer piqued her interest.
	Dax was concerned about the young doctor, and decided to watch him
for a while.  If his distraction didn't clear up soon she would try to get
him to talk to her about whatever was bothering him.  And why was the
Romulan calling him Ishmir?  One thing she had learned in three hundred
years -- she hated a mystery. 


	
********************************************************************



	He had left the lights on in his quarters but even that hadn't
helped.  Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he slipped back into the
nightmare.
	This assault tasted different.  His defenses were down and he felt
a new sensation, unfamiliar and unpleasant.  Gods, no, please...he
recognized what was happening with terror.  Pushing harder to keep the
presence from his soul, he realized that this was more than an attack on
his body.  This was mind rape.  The client was feeding on his pain and
fear, then forcing them back into the stream of his emotions to heighten
the sensations.  His tormentor was an empath himself, and took his
pleasure in the pain of others.
	Julian/Ishmir knew he was nothing to this other being but a whore
to be used until he was satiated then left behind.  Each time the surge of
energy washed over his mind he cringed.  Fire bathed his nerve endings and
mingled with the unwilling pleasure he experienced from the sex itself. 
He was pushed beyond his breaking point, caught up in an accelerating
cycle of pain/pleasure/pressure, his mind and body at the mercy of a
monster.
	His screams awoke him.


	
********************************************************************



	The staff in sickbay moved carefully around Doctor Bashir the next
day.  His usual sunny temper was absent.  Nurse T'Laak had never seen the
young Human so quiet.  She studied his haggard face and noted the fine
tremor in his hands as he handled the lab instruments.  She was not
surprised when the woman entered the lab asking for him, although her keen
eyes took note of the visitor.  Romulans, even part-breed, didn't come to
Deep Space Nine very often.  She quietly pointed the way to the inner
office and looked at the doctor for confirmation.  He nodded and dismissed
her with his eyes before concentrating on the woman.  She left them to
their privacy.  Vulcans were so much more logical about these things.
	Julian looked at Aliera as the door to his office snicked shut,
cutting off the sounds of the sickbay outside.  He rose and walked toward
his visitor.
	"Have you made up your mind?"  His voice was ragged with fatigue
and painful memories.
	"Kiss you or kill you?"  She actually sounded amused.  "You must
feel confident, to allow yourself to be alone with me."  She glanced
around the office.  "Crude, but private."  She closed the slight distance
between them until they were face to face, only a breath between them.  A
smile curved her lips.  After a leisurely assessment of his lean body, her
eyes settled on his.
	He felt the connection, frissons of sensation skittering along
paths too long left unused.  For a moment all of his defenses were down,
and he felt the thoughts and emotions of the hundreds of beings on the
station.  Colors, tastes, textures swirled around him.  Images washed over
him.  Then his mind filtered out all of the other voices to center on the
essence of the woman standing in front of him.
	Aliera smoothed her palms over the contours of his chest.  His
breathing deepened, matching her own arousal.  Passion flared behind his
eyes and burst into her mind with the force of a bomb blast, leaving her
shaken.  Of their own volition his arms curved around her, drawing her
body to his, chest to chest, hip to hip.  Their mouths met, tongues
delving deeply, and their hands smoothed restlessly over one another.  The
long curve of his back, the sweet hollow at the base of her throat, the
strong thigh pressed firmly between hers, the soft brush of breasts
against a solid chest.  Over and through the physical touch was the mental
caress, the tender mingling of minds.  By the Elements, she had missed
this!
	Julian was submerged in her sensuality, caught up in her touch,
enclosed by her.  Then his heart began to race with panic, not arousal. 
The horrors of the previous night returned to him full force and he broke
away from her roughly.
	Stunned by his sudden withdrawal, Aliera took a moment to collect
her scattered wits.  Their mind bond was still strong, and she saw what he
did -- blood, and a brutal stranger lying in the dirt.  Her passion
hardened into anger, dispelling the last of her sensual haze.  Clear-eyed,
she remembered all the reasons she had to hate him.
	Bashir lifted shaking hands to refasten his uniform.  Looking up
from the task, he saw her standing still, looking calmly at him.  Her hair
was tangled around her shoulders and her blouse gaped open where his eager
hands had touched her, but she seemed unconcerned.
	*Ishmir.* The word was coldly enunciated in his mind.  *It appears
that you decided for me long ago.* Her expression didn't soften, but he
felt a trace of sadness behind her gaze.
	*I'm sorry.* He made no move to go to her.  He didn't trust himself
to touch her.  *So very sorry.*
	She looked at him a moment longer and he felt shadow lips press
one more time to his.  Then she turned and, pulling her clothing together,
left the office.
	Exhausted, he slumped against the side of the desk.  Concentrated
on the effort of pulling his telempathic shields back into place.  And
wondered what her next move would be. 


	
********************************************************************



	Kira studied the small altar facing the wormhole and let her mind
wander.  She felt somewhat secure in her quarters, but she never
completely relaxed.  Too many years of vigilance, she thought wryly. 
Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.
	She stretched the kinks out of her back from holding the
meditation position for so long, then let her body relax.  She and Doctor
Bashir were headed to the central monastery on Bajor the next day to
report to the monks on the medical condition of the war orphans.  Even
after accompanying Bashir on these mercy missions for several months, they
still left her feeling vaguely uncomfortable.  The expressions on the faces 
of the Cardassian orphans reminded her too much of her own as a child.
	Then there was the problem of Vedek Bareil.  She still felt guilty
for lying to him about the vision she had seen in the Orb.  But what else
could she do?  He was a holy man.  Perhaps even more important to her
personally, he was a kind and good man.  Such a man deserved a lover who
was whole, who could give all of herself without reservations.  Kira knew
she would never be whole again, but a small part of her wished otherwise. 
She'd never known lovemaking, only the rough physical release of one
soldier to another in the fields and swamps, and even that not often.  The
horrors of the Cardassian camps, and the guard who had so brutally raped
her, were her secrets.  She couldn't see ever sharing those terrifying,
shameful memories with anyone.  Although when she looked at Bareil,
sometimes her heart would ache with an almost overwhelming desire to just
hold him.  Something inside her was drawn to his gentleness, but she'd
known little gentleness in her life.  She feared it.
	To distract herself from such fruitless -- and unsettling --
thoughts, she concentrated on Bashir.  He had looked like Cardie-meat that
afternoon, and had been in such a rush to leave Quark's last night she
hadn't had a chance to remind him of their mission.  More as an excuse to
get away from the altar, with its connotations of Bareil, than any real
desire to see the doctor, she left hers quarters and headed to the west
sector of the habitat ring.  Might as well see if he's still up. 


	
********************************************************************



	Julian's head was down and his shoulders slumped as he wearily
made his way to his quarters.  The pressure was back in his head and he
knew something would happen soon.  Ali had never been the type to wait for
long once she'd decided on a course of action.  Perhaps she wanted him to
wait.  Wait and wonder, and fear the inevitable.
	As he rounded the last corner toward his quarters, he felt it.  A
lightening swift brush of adrenaline and rage gave him just enough warning
to twist aside, and the hunting knife slid off his shoulder to impact the
wall.  Blood burned a path down his arm as he followed the motion with a
quick sideways kick at his attacker.  His right hand clenched around her
wrist, beating it into the wall to force her to drop the knife.  Her knee
swept up into his groin in a vicious kick that he barely deflected. 
Doubled over in pain, he felt her left arm come down over his face and up
against his throat, intent on crushing his windpipe.
	*NO!* Another's voice.  Kira?
	He felt the impact as the Bajoran threw herself at Aliera.  But
the mental shout had warned Ali as well, and she twisted free of Kira's
hold to disappear in the shadows further down the corridor.  Dimly, Julian
thought that he had to warn Kira of the dangers of mental war cries when
dealing with a telepath, but the thought died swiftly.
	"Intruder alert!" Kira barked into her commbadge as she knelt
beside Bashir to assess his condition.  "Last sighted heading toward
Sector B4, habitat ring."
	"Security team responding."  Odo's businesslike reply came through. 
"Was anyone hurt?"
	"Doctor Bashir was slightly injured."
	Julian grinned inwardly.  He supposed if Aliera had actually
managed to gut him, the major might have been concerned.  Then again,
maybe not.  The grin disappeared.
	"I recognized the intruder, Odo.  It was Aliera, Quark's latest
find."  Kira's voice cut through his preoccupation.  As she finished the
sentence, Odo came into the corridor.  They could hear the sounds of the
security team fanning out into the darkness of the corridor beyond them.
	With Kira's support, Bashir pulled himself to his feet.  He had to
stop this.  He was on the alert now, and he could handle Aliera himself. 
He had to.  If they caught her, everyone on the station would learn the
truth about his past.  He had to keep that from happening at all costs. 
As a multi-species specialist, he knew that there were races in the
universe who would not allow someone who had been a slave and a prostitute
to touch them.  He would be considered an untouchable and be unable to
function as a physician.  The real reason he had asked to be posted to
Deep Space Nine -- to get as far from Earth as possible -- would become
painfully obvious.  Most importantly, he couldn't stand to see the
friendship and dawning respect in his crewmates' eyes turn to disgust.  He
couldn't take the risk of them finding out the truth.
	All of this passed through his mind in a flash, and by the time he
was upright he had his story straight.  It would make him appear a fool,
but better a fool than the alternative.
	Straightening against the wall and steeling himself against the
pain flaring through his shoulder and stomach, he pulled away from Kira's
hands.  Refusing to look at her, or at the knife glittering on the deck,
he concentrated on Odo.
	"Thank you Kira.  Constable, please call off the security team." 
Both Kira and Odo looked at him in disbelief.  "It was a ...
misunderstanding.  I invited Aliera up to my quarters for a nightcap and
... misread her response.  She interpreted my overtures as an attack and
... defended herself.  The fault is entirely mine."
	Kira's expression made it clear she couldn't believe what she was
hearing.  Odo gave him a hard look, then walked away with a short shake of
his head.  As he left they heard him recalling his security team,
muttering something under his breath about the stupidity of -- certain --
Humans.
	The major looked at Bashir for a long time, but he refused to meet
her eyes.  Finally she pushed off from her position at the wall and nodded
curtly.
	"Don't forget, Airlock 3, 0600.  Try not to bleed all over the
monastery."
	As she stomped off, she thought she heard a quiet "Thank you." 


	
********************************************************************



	Kira inhaled the fragrance of the garden deep into her lungs.  The
doctor's report had gone well, and the monks were appreciative of the
joint Federation/Bajoran efforts to help the orphans.  There were so many
people who needed help, and so few resources to go around.  She turned at
the sound of a footfall on the path behind her.
	"Good morning, Nerys."  Bareil's velvet dark eyes sparkled at her. 
Damn, why did he have to be so beautiful?  It just made it harder to
resist him.  She smiled back at him and wished again that she could
somehow be better, be worthy of his affection.  His eyes suddenly sobered,
and he said softly, "But you are."
	Startled, her eyes flew to his.  Before she could frame a reply --
how on Bajor had he known what she'd been thinking? -- the sound of
fighting nearby caught her attention.  Turning, they raced as one around
the garden wall. 


	
********************************************************************



	His report had gone better than he'd expected.  At least here
there was understanding, if not acceptance, of the problems the Cardassian
orphans faced.  He stepped into the sunlight outside the garden and
stretched cautiously.  The dermal regenerator had taken care of the
shallow furrow left by Aliera's blade, but he was still bruised and stiff.
	*Face me.* He whirled to see Aliera, dressed in desert camouflage,
knife in her right hand.  *Fight me.  I deserve this.  You owe it to me.*
Her hatred was palpable, buffeting him in waves.  Any love she might still
feel for him was buried by the need for revenge.  Acknowledging her right,
he dropped into a classic street fighter's crouch.  Silently, viciously,
they began to fight.  She cut him several times during the grim dance, and
he retaliated with violent stabs of pure empathic power, turning and
twisting her emotions in a terrible reflection of the physical battle
their bodies fought. 


	
********************************************************************



	Kira and Bareil skidded around the edge of the wall and jerked to
a stop in disbelief.  The station doctor and the Romulan half-breed were
circling one another, the only sounds the grunt when a blow connected, or
the scuffling of their feet on the grass.  It occurred to Kira that the
sounds of combat that had drawn her here must have been subliminal,
because both fighters were eerily silent.
	Her momentary paralysis at the strange sight broke when she saw
Dr. Bashir go down under a sideswipe of the knife.  With no wasted motion
she leapt like a panther on the alien woman.  Bareil ran to Bashir's side
and pulled him from harm as the two warriors fought.  But the doctor
seemed unaware of his surroundings.  His eyes were fixed on something far
away, his body was stiff and cold.
	Ishmir/Julian had to stop it.  If he let it run its course he
would be destroyed, left a husk with no mind or emotions.  Intent on his
pleasure, the empath pushed harder, feeding on the rising crest of fear,
arousal and pain in the emotional loop.  As the intensity reached its
climax, he lost himself in his pleasure, and never felt the younger man
pull the knife from the sheath at the small of his back.  Ishmir had
plucked the location of the knife from the empath's mind without his
knowledge.  The empath was a creature purely of emotion, with no
telepathic ability at all.
	With the last of his strength, Ishmir drove the knife deep into
his attacker's back.  Pain flooded the empathic loop they shared, mixing
with and finally overcoming the ecstatic pleasure.  Ishmir read
astonishment and disbelief as the empath's life drained away, and he felt
himself being sucked helplessly into the vortex.
	"Ishmir!"  The scream cut through the darkness.  Ali pulled him
away from the corpse on the ground, channeling strength to him through
their mental bond.  But something in Ishmir had broken.  He looked at Ali
with uncomprehending eyes, then pulled free of her hands and ran.  As hard
as he could.  He didn't care where, he just ran with the instincts of a
wounded animal.
	He didn't look behind to see what happened to Ali, but their mind
link had not broken.  Years later, when he finally remembered the details
of that time, he knew what had happened to her.  And he knew she would
find him. 


	
********************************************************************



	It had been some time since Kira had fought such a skillful street
fighter.  The woman was vicious and determined.  Finally, Kira saw her
opening and went after her.  Too late, she saw the trap, but she couldn't
stop her forward momentum in time.  The Romulan curved her foot around
Kira's thigh and slammed her into the wall, and Kira blacked out.
	Bareil looked up in time to see Kira lose the fight.  A wave of
rage swept over him and he started toward the alien woman.  As if she had
felt his advance, she halted and threw up a hand.  He stopped abruptly,
feeling as if he, not Kira, had gone headfirst into the wall.  When he had
shaken the pain from his head and the ringing from his ears, the woman had
disappeared.  Kira was rolling over and sitting up, and he went to her. 


	
********************************************************************



	Julian had come to himself to see Kira, dazed, with blood
streaming down her face, being supported by Vedek Bareil.  The Vedek
looked grim-faced, and his eyes showed lingering traces of pain.  The
doctor mentally probed the Vedek, gently, to determine if Aliera had done
any permanent damage with the psychic bolt she had thrown at him.  He
found none, just the remnants of a nasty headache.  Bareil would be all
right.  Judging by the care with which he held Kira, so would she.
	They returned to the monastery, Bareil telling the guards about
the fight as they went.  Kira hadn't had time to call for help, and Bashir
had been incapacitated by his flashback.  He knew they wouldn't find her. 
Aliera was long gone by now, and it would be some time before she
returned.  But their mind link had been reopened and strengthened.  Next
time he would be prepared. 


	
********************************************************************



	The doctor took Kira to sickbay as soon as they docked at the
station.  She was irritated with herself for letting the other woman
escape, but submitted to his ministrations.  They were silent as he
worked, and she waited to see what he would say.
	"Well, aside from a slight concussion it looks like you'll be just
fine."
	"I have a hard head."
	There was a short silence as he straightened his equipment. 
Finally his movements stilled and he met her eyes.
	"Thank you."
	"Are you going to tell me about it?"
	"I ... can't.  Not quite yet."  Not quite *ever*.  His eyes dropped
to the scanner in his hand.
	"Is she a threat to this station?"
	His head came up at the question.  He thought for a moment, his
mind reaching out for Aliera.  He felt distance, and it was growing.  "No,
not now."
	"Then it's your story, not mine.  But if she comes back -"
	"I'll tell you immediately," he broke in.
	"Good."  She slid from the table and looked at him for a moment. 
Then she turned and left sickbay.
	He looked after her for a moment then pulled off his shirt to
repair the cuts Aliera had given him.  None were too severe, just some new
scars to add to the thin white lines crossing his torso and back.  He had
barely had time to replace his clothing when the door opened to admit
Commander Sisko.  His face was grave, but concern showed in his deep brown
eyes.
	"I heard you and Major Kira had a close call down on Bajor.  What
happened?"  It was a command, not a question, and Bashir unconsciously
straightened his spine.  Meeting his superior's gaze, he told the older
man as much as he could.
	"Aliera knew me from ... a long time ago.  I hadn't had any contact
with her for some time ... but there is bad blood between us.  I didn't
expect she would actually try to hurt me, but thanks to Major Kira she
didn't do much damage."
	"What about the incident last night outside your quarters?  Odo
told me you had described it as a seduction that went wrong.  The woman
came after you with a knife."  Sisko's eyes drilled into the doctor. 
"Care to revise your story?"
	"No, sir.  I misread her motives.  She was planning on attacking me-"
	"Why?"
	"-even then... I ... involved her in something a long time ago and
she hasn't forgiven me."
	"She must have a long memory.  And a taste for revenge."
	Julian's eyes dropped to the regenerator he still held.  Carefully
he lined it up precisely with the tricorder on the shelf.  "Romulans do,
sir."
	Sisko leaned against the examination table.  Crossing his arms
over his chest, he studied his chief medical officer.
	"Two questions," he finally said.  "First, have you alerted Odo to
the danger she poses to the station?"  He paused for Bashir's response.
	"Yes, sir."  He'd done that on the runabout returning to the
station.  When the Bajoran monastery guards had made their report, he had
appended a personal report to the constable.  Without going into details
of his past, he had warned Odo that Aliera was dangerous and might return
to Deep Space Nine.  Inwardly, he knew she wouldn't.  Not right away. 
Maybe not ever.  Having failed twice, she would know that the security
forces were on alert.  More importantly she would know that his mind link
with her was strong again.  Having been warned, she would not be able to
take him by surprise.
	"Secondly," Sisko's voice broke into his thoughts, "does this have
anything to do with your sealed personnel records?"
	Julian stared at Sisko for a moment.
	"Yes, sir."  Quietly.  The commander nodded once, then straightened
away from the table.
	"If, in my judgment, the safety of this station is compromised, I
will petition Admiral Sanderson to open your records, Doctor."  Julian
went very still.  "As of now, that doesn't appear to be necessary."  He
relaxed fractionally.  "Next time your past comes back to bite you, talk
to me.  Or I will do it."
	Looking at his somber expression, Bashir had no doubt that he
would.  "I'll tell you, sir.  I won't try to handle it on my own, not if
it puts someone else in danger."
	Sisko's face softened somewhat.  In a friendlier tone he replied,"
You don't have to be alone in this, Julian.  That's what your friends are
here for."
	Julian nodded, but he couldn't speak.  Sisko gave him a half
smile, then left the lab.  As his footsteps faded down the corridor, the
words Julian couldn't squeeze past his tight throat echoed in his mind.
	*But my friends don't know -- or they wouldn't remain friends.*


	
********************************************************************



	Kira was drawn into Quark's by the unmistakable sound of an
enraged Ferengi.
	"-has disappeared!  I have a *contract* with her!!  How could she
just-"
	"Quark!"  Odo's voice cut across the tirade.  Kira slipped
unnoticed to the side of the bar to watch the fun.  If she was lucky maybe
she'd learn something.
	"What!!"  Quark shot back at Odo.
	"Your entertainer has quite a history.  She has outstanding
warrants for murder and larceny on at least five planets, from Earth to
Rigel IV.  Do you ever do background checks?"
	Quark glared at Odo, then adopted a more conciliatory posture. 
"Her voice is magnificent.  And my customers really liked her."
	"Right."  Odo looked down his slightly unfinished nose at Quark. 
"When she's not trying to kill them."
	As Quark began to argue with the shape shifter again, Kira slipped
back out of the room.  Walking along the Promenade, she spotted Julian
sitting at a table in the replimat.  A steaming cup sat in front of him,
but he seemed unaware of it.  Kira paused, then walked determinedly toward
him.
	She stood in front of him for a few moments before he became aware
of her presence.  Looking up, he waved a hand to indicate the chair across
from him.
	"Join me?"
	"Yes."  Settling firmly into the chair, she clasped her hands
together and looked at him over her intertwined knuckles.  He returned her
gaze thoughtfully.
	"I suppose you'd like some answers."
	"I'm not asking."  One brow went up, then he narrowed his eyes at
her.  "Your past is your business.  It only becomes my problem when it
affects this station or Bajor.  Vedek Bareil could have been hurt this
morning."
	Julian flushed at her harsh tone.  She was justified in her anger,
but he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth.  Finally he found his
voice.  "There are...things about my past that... could hurt my friends. 
I'll make sure that doesn't happen.  I swear.  But I can't talk about it." 
His face pleaded for her understanding, and he was surprised to find it in
her eyes.
	"Because you think we'll lose respect for you?"
	"Because you'll hate me."
	The bald statement didn't shock her.  Obviously Bashir had darker
secrets than she'd ever expected, and he was desperate to keep them.  He'd
even faced a murderer alone to keep his past hidden.  "You have little
faith in your friends, Julian."  His head came up and he watched her face
intently.  "A person's past is his own.  You do whatever you have to do in
order to survive.  No one can blame you for it.  Your friends judge you by
who you are now.  If they don't, they're not friends, and you're better
off without them.  But don't underestimate friendship, Julian.  It's
stronger than you think."
	When he didn't reply, she reached across the table and pushed the
cup closer to his hands.  Then she gently patted his clenched fists and
said, "Think about it."
	Rising, she felt the doctor staring after her as she left the
replimat.  Her mind replayed their conversation, and the truth of her
words crystallized in her heart.  She thought back to Bareil.  Through the
haze of pain that morning she had seen him rush to her defense.  Perhaps
she had been underestimating the strength of his friendship as well.  Deep
in thought, she continued on to her quarters.  She would see Bareil the
next day, check up on him after his adventure with Aliera.  They had a lot
to talk about, and the Orb was only part of it. 


	
********************************************************************



	Dax hesitated outside the door to Julian's quarters.  This would
be a difficult discussion, but she wanted to help him if she could.  Her
feelings for the young Human were deeper than she had expected.  Julian
was getting close to breaking under the strain of his secrets, and she was
hoping he would confide in her before that happened.  She hoped he trusted
her that far.  Reaching up, she pressed the chime.
	"Enter."
	The door slid open.  The interior of his quarters was in shadow,
and the soft sound of an ancient Earth instrument floated on the air. 
Stepping inside, the door shutting behind her, she recognized the haunting
sound as a tenor saxophone.  Julian was standing by the window, staring
out at the spread of stars over the second docking bay.  He didn't turn to
face her, but she knew that he was aware of her presence.  "Hello, Julian. 
I need to talk to you."
	With a slight sigh, he shifted his stance to face her.  Her face
was open and sympathetic.  He read comfort, deep caring and understanding
coming from her, with no censure or disapproval.  Without quite realizing
it, something cold deep in the center of his emotions began to thaw.
	"I did something that may make you angry.  I was worried about you
and I didn't trust Aliera."  She moved a few steps closer and he caught a
whisper of thought.  *Please don't shut me out.  I care about you.*
	He stiffened and addressed her directly.  "I won't be angry.  What
did you do?"
	She nodded once, then crossed the room to stand beside him at the
window.  Now she was the one who stared out at the wash of stars.  Not
looking at him might make this easier to say.
	"I ran my own background check on Aliera.  She is wanted for a
murder committed ten years ago on Earth, as well as four other killings
and a numbers of thefts on several worlds.  She works as a freelance
assassin and thief, and she's good at her work.  But I couldn't figure out
why she would want to kill you."  She felt him stir beside her, but he
remained silent.
	"So, I went back a little further.  Aliera was a slave in a small
autonomous oasis in the Saharan desert.  She worked as a prostitute there
until her eighteenth year, when she murdered one of her customers and
somehow managed to escape off planet."  She pause again to give him an
opportunity to respond, but he stayed silent.  "Another slave disappeared
about the same time.  Authorities figured they might have escaped
together, since they were very close to one another.  He was also a
marketplace prostitute.  His name was Ishmir."
	A shudder went through his body.  She was close enough to feel it
rip through his frame, her arm brushing his.  But he didn't pull away. 
"Please, Julian.  Talk to me.  I'm a good listener.  I'm your friend.  And
I'm good at keeping private stories secret."
	Silence followed her plea.  It felt like hours but could have been
measured in heartbeats.  Finally, Julian's left hand turned and blindly
sought Jadzia's right hand.  Her fingers curled around his and he drew
strength from her grip.  Still staring at the stars, he began to talk.
	"Aliera didn't murder that empath.  I did."  Dax's grip tightened
in reassurance at the pain in his voice.  "I ran.  Left her there.  She
had always protected me.  Always.  And she did then."  His voice was
scratchy, as if he hadn't spoken for a long time.  As he continued, it
grew softer, and the words flowed like water breaching a broken dam.  "I
ran as far and as fast as I could.  Ali and I shared a mind link, so I
knew what happened to her.  But I was in shock and couldn't help her.  I
had been with a customer earlier that day, an ambassador visiting friends
in the area.  She hadn't left her camp yet, and I ran to her.  She didn't
ask any questions, just took me with her when they broke camp."  His voice
faltered for a moment, then regained strength.
	"She took me to San Francisco and left me in the care of a friend
of hers.  Admiral Sanderson kept me for a year, then sponsored me to
Starfleet Medical Academy.  I'd had extensive experience with field
medicine from my ... early life, and I had an aptitude for medicine.  He
sealed my early records.  Meriel Bashir legally adopted me, and I changed
my name to Julian Bashir."  Dax had moved closer to Julian throughout his
narrative.  As he continued, a silvery trail of tears began to trace the
contours of his face.
	"Aliera has a right to hate me.  She took the blame for my crime,
and she has been running ever since.  I set her on the path she follows." 
He finally turned his face toward hers.  Searching her eyes, he found no
sign of the disgust he had feared.  Acceptance and comfort, not rejection,
shone in her clear blue eyes.
	"She follows her own path, Julian," Dax softly replied.  "You
followed yours.  She did have a choice, in the end.  She didn't have to
become an assassin.  She found an affinity for death."  Jadzia unclasped
their hands and drew him to her in a fierce hug.  "Your past is part of
you, Julian, but it's not who you are," she whispered in his ear.  "You
are a healer, an officer, a caring, sensitive man, and my dear friend." 
Pulling away slightly, she brought her mouth to his in a gentle kiss.
	One edge of his mouth quirked as she drew back.  Reaching out, she
brushed the tears from his face.  There was need in his eyes, need to make
contact with another being with love and mutual caring, to banish the
darkness.  Dropping his empathic shields, he felt her deep warmth.  And
underneath the friendship, the promise of more.
	Silently, he reached for her and pulled her close to him.  Their
lips met, hands working to loosen clothing and rid themselves of the
barriers between them.  Her arms came around him and he let himself be
drawn into the warmth of her embrace.  As he lowered her to the thick
carpet beneath the window of stars, he felt himself surrounded by her.
	"Jadzia," he murmured.  He tangled his hands in her hair and
brought her face to his again.  She traced the line of his throat with her
fingertips, responding joyfully to him.
	"It's all right, Julian.  It will be all right."
	Surrendering to the force of her emotions and his, he believed
her. 


	
***********************************************************************



	By all the Elements and their attendant Spirits, she *hated*
swamps.  One more unpleasant experience to lay at Ishmir's door.  Aliera's
breath was coming in harsh gasps, and she made a concerted effort to quiet
them.  Not that there was anything humanoid around to hear her, but she
was catching stray thoughts of small swamp predators flitting through the
steamy darkness around her.  The Bajoran woman had been as fierce an
opponent as she had expected, and Ishmir -- no, she should try to think of
him by his new name, since he had worked so hard to hide from her --
Julian, then.  Julian still knew how to fight dirty.  She'd had more
practice recently, of course, but adrenaline and desperation did wonders
for his fighting abilities.
	Ali stopped at a fallen stump, broken and seared by some
unidentified weapon during the Cardassian occupation.  Even here, deep in
the swamps, there were signs of violence.  Checking for poisonous
inhabitants with a jaundiced eye, she decided the rest was worth the risk
and dropped down onto its mossy top.  Closing her eyes and drawing a deep
breath, she cast her thoughts out into the immediate vicinity, alert to
danger.  Feeling none, she relaxed a fraction and took an internal
inventory of her wounds.  Luck had been with her as well as skill.  She
had bruises, bumps, and some nasty cuts, and her telepathic shields ached
from the beating Ish --, Julian, had given them, but there were no broken
bones and the cuts didn't go too deep.  The scrapes were a distraction and
she'd have to be careful of infection, but overall she was in surprisingly
good shape.  Her worst weakness was in her reserve telepathic
capabilities.  Between the vicious fight with her old stablemate and the
final psi bolt she'd had to throw against the priest, she was drained. 
She couldn't keep going without a rest and she couldn't afford to give
away her position.  She knew Julian would be reaching out, searching for
her.  Burrowing deeper into the soft hollow of the log, she damped down
her flickering projective powers so she couldn't be easily traced. 
Keeping her skinning knife firmly clasped in her hand, she closed her eyes
and slept. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Waves of sensation broke over Julian.  He was surrounded by the
essence of Jadzia, her touch, her scent, the whispers of emotions weaving
themselves along his nerve endings, just under his skin.  He felt more
alive than he had in years, and suddenly more vulnerable.  The rational
voice in his mind insisted that she was no empath, that Dax was not
deliberately overwhelming him, that the force of her emotions was carrying
her along with him.  But something deep in his mind shrieked and twisted,
trying to escape her touch.  It didn't recognize the comfort in her
presence, only the power of her closeness.  And no one had been this close
in a very long time.  Persa had been his love, at least until her father
had discovered his past, and given him the choice of leaving her or having
her learn the truth and losing her anyway.  But Jadzia already knew.  And
that knowledge added to the depth of a touch he was simply not ready to
face.  With a gasp he tore away from her, and she started.
	"Julian?  What is it?  What happened?"  Clear blue eyes, concerned
and gentle, met his in the wash of starlight.  He looked at her and the
exquisite irony struck him.  Pulling back, he ran his gaze over her fully
clad figure, hair slightly disarranged from their kisses, but otherwise
unruffled.  He looked down at himself, not a fastening undone, and laughed
softly.  Bitterly.  All in their minds.  What a joke.
	Jadzia lifted a hand to his cheek.  Lightly caressing his skin,
she tilted his head until his eyes met hers.  "Talk to me.  Please.  I
didn't mean to just drop all of this on you but I needed to let you know
what I had found out."
	"How --" his voice was strained.  How could she be so composed,
considering the thoughts she had so recently been having?  He caught her
hand in his own and lowered it from his face.  Obviously she didn't
realize that he'd been eavesdropping on her emotions.  Hopefully he could
keep it that way.  Changing his original question, he continued.  "How did
you find out so much?  I thought those records were sealed."
	"Yours are.  And there was no direct tie between you and the Ishmir
records, Julian."  Her expression was grave.  The Trill markings along her
temples were very dark against the pale oval of her face in the dimly lit
room.  "But given Aliera's attacks on you, and the fact that she called
you Ishmir, someone else might make the same logical connection."  She
gripped his hands as an involuntary shudder went through him.  "You've
done a good job of creating a new personal history.  If you continue with
it, I think you'll be all right.  Kira and I will back you up."  She
paused and weighed her words carefully.  "So would Commander Sisko."
	"No."  His response was immediate, sharp and hard.  Sisko had made
it clear that he would only delve deeper into the truth if the station was
in danger.  Bashir intended to make sure that it wouldn't be.
	"Don't underestimate Benjamin.  He has a greater capacity for
understanding than you know."
	Julian brought their joined hands to his lips for a gentle kiss. 
The softness of her skin belied the strength of her grip.  For a brief
instant he saw those ivory hands against the darker caramel of his skin,
and his body responded.  Glancing from her hand to her eyes, he saw
awareness growing.  Her pupils dilated and a slight flush spread across
her cheeks.  He felt a faint line of perspiration begin along his upper
lip.  The slightly heavy sensation of arousal and heat centered in his
groin made it difficult to concentrate.
	"I'd rather not involve the commander if I can help it."  He moved
toward her slowly, curving his free hand around her neck, burying his
fingers in the heavy fall of dark hair at her nape.  She ran her hand up
his chest, feeling the warm muscles slide under her palm, allowing her
fingertips to rest at the pulse beating at the base of his throat.
	"What happened earlier, Julian?  You broke away from me as if I had
burned you."  She was almost whispering, her eyes locked on his, trying to
read the secrets behind the gold-flecked brown.  The color was almost
translucent, and perfect for hiding his thoughts, because it pulled her in
until she forgot everything but how beautiful he was.  As the question
penetrated the haze of arousal between them, his eyes went opaque, as if a
filter had slipped over them.  His face set in hard lanes, and she almost
cried out at the lost intimacy.  For a long moment they were frozen in
place, then he gently disengaged their hands and stepped back.
	"I'm sorry, Jadzia.  I really can't talk about it all just yet." 
She shook her head as if coming out of a trance and he smiled sweetly at
her.  "Thank you for coming here tonight.  It means a great deal to me
that you should know the truth and still choose to be my friend."
	She looked at him like he'd lost his mind.  "Of course I'm still
your friend, Julian.  Surely you don't think that I'd condemn you for
doing whatever you had to do in order to survive?"  His silence answered
her.  Wryly she continued, "I've lived too long for those kinds of
judgments."  Reaching out to him again, she caught him up in a fierce hug. 
After a moment his arms came up around her and he held her tightly.  "It's
okay," she whispered in his ear.  With a final squeeze, she released him. 
"Will you be all right?"
	"Yes."  He gave her a quick, lopsided grin.  "takes more than a
mad, murderous specter from the past to get to me."  His comment surprised
a little gurgle of laughter from Dax.  With a nod, she turned to leave. 
At the door, she paused.  Looking back at him over her shoulder she opened
her mouth to speak, but his words were faster.  "I'll talk to you if I
need to talk to anyone, Jadzia."
	She grinned at his comeback.  "Good!"  Turning back to the door
she left his quarters.  After the doors met behind her he allowed his grin
to fade.  "Thanks, love," he softly said.  Lifting his face back to the
field of stars outside the window, he withdrew into his thoughts. 


	
***********************************************************************



	The night had been one of the longest Kira had ever experienced. 
She was always happier when she could be in motion.  She'd learned how to
be patient when she was running underground terrorist operations against
the Cardies, but it had never been her strength.  Now that morning had
finally arrived she was anxious to get back down to Bajor and check on her
Vedek.  The thought made her pause -- when had she begun to consider him
to be hers?  A soft smile curved her usually stern lips, and Kira's
cinnamon eyes unfocused, but only for a moment.  With a decisive snap to
her step she gathered her thoughts and made her way up to Ops.  Sisko
shouldn't have any problems with a short day trip to the monastery.  After
all, he was cultivating Bareil's friendship and would be concerned about
the Vedek's well being after the previous day's adventures.  The major was
completely unaware of the little smile playing around the corners of her
mouth as the lift took her to see the commander. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Unfortunately for the doctor the infirmary was very quiet.  Only
two routine examinations, one sprained wrist and a slight electrical burn. 
Not that he could have handled much more today.  Haunted eyes looked back
from a drawn face in the reflection from the shiny instrument panel in
front of Bashir.  With the reawakening of his telempathic powers, he was
having to deal with more than just nightmares.  Random thoughts, little
flashes of emotion, kept jolting him.  He could shut out most of the
sensations, but the stronger impulses kept seeping through.  The effort
was exhausting, not just to minimize the contact but to pretend that
nothing was wrong, to suppress his reaction whenever someone came too
close, whenever he was buffeted by another wave of feeling or another
stray thought.  *My communications equipment is shorting out* he mused
with a faint smile, uncomfortably aware of how close that smile was to a
grimace.
	"Doctor Bashir?  Do you have a headache?"
	*A corker of one!* He smiled up at the young nurse leaning over his
left shoulder, deliberately suppressing his awareness of her pleased
reaction.  Why couldn't T'Laak be on duty today?  Humans were no good at
control, and this one -- what was her name? -- was a mass of emotion. 
"No, nurse, I'm just ... concentrating.  Thank you."
	She smiled tentatively at him.  "All right, sir.  Is there
anything I can get for you?"
	*Shielding?  Stun gun?  Romulan ale -- straight?!* "Have you
finished scanning the last of the biopsies from the -- "  He broke off
sharply as he felt it.  Faintly, niggling at the back of his mind, making
his nerve endings tingle.  Aliera?
	"Sir?"
	Julian looked back at the now quite concerned nurse.  Sorell, that
was her name.  Gods, his concentration was completely shot.  He had to get
some sleep and recover from the beating his mind and body had been taking. 
But first things first.  "I'm very sorry, Nurse Sorell.  Please continue
with the scans.  We've no more appointments for this afternoon and I have
... some matters I must attend to.  You and Krella have everything under
control?"  Receiving her confirming nod with relief, he quickly keyed in
the final sequence on the organ typing he'd been trying to finish.  "I'll
take off then.  Call me if you need me."  *And I certainly hope you
don't.*
	She stepped back as he rose from the console and watched him walk
from the infirmary.  *Poor Doctor Bashir.  He looks awfully tired.  I hope
he's not getting sick.* With a little shake of her head, she stepped back
to her work station.
	As Julian slowly wandered toward the habitat ring, he concentrated
on the faint trace of Aliera he thought he had sensed.  Part of him was
frightened by the thought that she might not have left the area.  She
represented a serious threat to all that he had built here, to him
personally and to his crewmates, not to mention innocent bystanders who
happened to get in the way.  But a stronger, deeper part of him was
fiercely happy that she might be near.  Whatever they were now, at one
time they had been closer than family.  There were still things they
needed to say to one another, and there were still issues to resolve
between them.  And regardless of how she might hate him now, she had loved
him once.  Loved him when all anyone else saw was a convenience, not a
person.  Loved him when he had only had contempt for himself.  And for
that gift, he felt he had to see her one more time.  If thanking her for
saving his life then should cost him his life now ... it might just be
worth it. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Sisko looked up from the parts inventory he was studying when the
chimes sounded.  *Anything beats this stuff.  What did the Cardassians use
for building material?  Foil?* His relief at seeing Dax walking in was
obvious on his face.  "Old man!  Come to rescue me from all this
paperwork?"
	"The bane of a bureaucratic existence, Benjamin."  With a smile she
seated herself on the corner of his desk.  "Anything I can help you with
there?"
	"No."  With an impatient sweep of his hand, Sisko shoved the
datachips into his drawer.  "It will wait."  He tilted his head to one side
and looked up at his old friend.  "You look serious, old man.  The
question should be, how can I help you?"
	Jadzia held his gaze for a long moment.  "Benjamin, you haven't
been talking to me."
	"What?  About what?"
	"I don't know if it's because you haven't had a lover for a while
now-" Dax ignored the small choked noise Sisko made and continued to hold
his gaze, "-or if it's because I'm female now.  And I really need you to
clarify the situation for me."  Dax paused and gave him time to respond
but he was momentarily speechless.  She softened her tone.  "Because, you
see, I really need to talk to you.  And I can't if you look at me and only
see Jadzia, not Dax."
	Sisko gathered his thoughts before he answered her.  He had been
ambivalent about sharing confidences with Jadzia, where he hadn't been
with Curzon.  But, damnit, he hadn't been attracted to Curzon!  And
Jadzia, for all her experience, was still,... well, a woman.  Looking hard
at his old friend, he saw past the beautiful face and read the need there. 
Dax really did need to talk to him.  With the number of times that Dax had
been there for him, he certainly wouldn't let her down now.  Soberly, he
nodded.  "It's because there really hasn't been anyone to talk *about*,
Dax.  I'll admit I'm still adjusting to your new form, and still getting
to know Jadzia-"  She smiled at him and he relaxed a little.  "But you're
my friend, Dax.  If you need to talk I'm perfectly willing to listen.  And
if I need to talk, you're who I will be looking for."  He stopped, knowing
it had been phrased awkwardly, but unsure of how to say it more
eloquently.  It seemed to be enough for the Trill, though.  After a final
searching glance at him, she hopped off the corner of the desk and began
to pace.
	"I have a problem, Benjamin.  There's a man I've become close to,
and I'd like to take the relationship to a deeper level.."  Jadzia's hands
sketched pictures in the air as she talked.  Sisko was amused as she
began, but his amusement was swiftly replaced by concern as his old friend
continued.
	"He's bright, attractive, and much more experienced than I had
expected.  That's the problem.  His experiences have not been pleasant. 
At least, some have been very unpleasant.  The more recent ones may not
have been bad, but the early ones can't have been-"
	""Dax?" he broke in.
	"Hmph?"  She finally stopped pacing and looked at him.  Such
agitation in the normally composed Trill would usually be funny, but this
wasn't a "usual" situation.  She was trying to be detached and objective,
but she was really shaken.
	"What is the crux of the problem?  You always told me to go to the
heart of the matter."  His soft voice calmed her.  Making up her mind, she
faced him squarely and took a deep breath.
	"He's a rape survivor."  Startled brown eyes met pained blue ones. 
She nodded once and he gave a slow whistle.  "That's not the worst of it. 
The abuse took place over a number of years, beginning in his childhood. 
And the circumstances are such that he has never sought psychological help
to deal with it."
	That really did surprise Sisko.  "He's trying to deal with this
all on his own?  Why?"
	"Circumstances were ... are such that he can't go public with the
abuse.  I'm sorry, Benjamin," she raised a hand to forestall his next
question, "the story is his to tell or not.  I need your advice on how to
approach him."
	"How long have you known him?"
	"Several months.  We have a strong friendship, but he -- I need to
be closer to him."
	Sisko fixed Dax with a penetrating look.  "Are you in love with
him?  Or do you want to mother him?"
	"You know me too well, young man."  She smiled at him, but her eyes
remained serious.  "Comfort is part of it, of course.  He has been through
hell.  And I want to help him heal.  But I do find him very attractive. 
I've been holding off having an intimate relationship with him because ...
well, I thought I was more than he could handle."  Dax ignored Sisko's
quick indrawn breath.  He could hold his tongue, even if he guessed the
truth.  Or she never would have brought it up with him.  "As it turns out,
I may have all I can do to handle *him*.  I just have to figure out a way
to approach him that won't look like pity.  He would turn away from me, if
he didn't think I was sincere.  Do you have any suggestions?"
	Commander Sisko was far from stupid.  He was also very discrete. 
Given the recent events at the station, he had a good idea just who his
science officer was targeting.  And he wasn't sure he quite believed it. 
It was more than a little incredible.  But Dax was so certain.  Putting
aside his speculations about the man's identity, he concentrated on trying
to help his friend.  If anything more came of the situation, he would hear
about it and act accordingly.  If not, well, everyone had something in
their life that was too painful for general knowledge.  He leaned back in
his chair and looked at Jadzia over steepled fingers.
	"How long was he ... abused?"
	"Almost ten years."  Softly, a world of pain in her voice.  He
narrowed his eyes in sympathy.
	"And how long has it been since it stopped?  How deeply is this
buried?"
	"Nearly eleven years.  He's been having nightmares recently.  I
think he is very deeply scarred by what was done to him, but he is in
denial."
	"Probably the least painful way to deal with it.  Dax, you may not
like what I have to say."
	"I asked, Benjamin."  She leaned toward him in silent entreaty. 
"This is new for me.  Dax wants to wrap him up in cotton so nothing else
will hurt him.  Jadzia wants to take him to bed and keep him there until
all the shadows are gone.  I'm ... conflicted."
	"Wait."  He met her inquiring look steadily.  "It took a long time
for the abuse, and he's been hiding it even longer.  It will take a long
time to heal from it, if ever.  Go slowly.  Be patient with him.  Convince
him by word and action that you really do care for him, that it is
affection, not pity, that you're offering him.  I can't believe I'm having
to say this to you, old man.  But, be patient."
	Dax sat back in her chair, studying him.  After a moment she
smiled at him with a great deal of sweetness.  "Courtship."
	"Yes," he smiled back at her.  "A good, old-fashioned courtship."
	"Thank you, Benjamin.  Talking with you always helps me clarify
things in my mind."
	As she rose to leave he added a final comment.  "While he is
young, Doctor Bashir is the closest we have to a psychiatrist on the
station.  And in medical matters he can be objective and confidential." 
It wasn't the look on Dax's face as much as the complete lack of
expression that caused Sisko to break off.  With a sinking feeling, he
knew why Dax's friend wouldn't be going to the station doctor for therapy. 
Without another word Dax left the office.  Sisko stared at the closed
doors for several long moments.  A sad story but unfortunately not an
uncommon one.  As a father, the thought of someone hurting an innocent
child in such an awful way enraged him, and he wondered what kind of
family Julian had grown up in.  The full truth was hidden behind Admiral
Sanderson's seal.  And as long as Julian chose to keep it that way, there
it would remain. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Odo turned away from the view screen with an impatient shrug. 

	
Just what I need.  As if it isn't enough to try and maintain order on


this zoo, now we have bounty hunters.* Reflexively his glance swept over
the array of surveillance screens behind his desk.  He didn't know what
the Saraian tracker expected to find on the station.  The murderous
Romulan was off on Bajor or smuggled away on some freighter by now,
undoubtedly with the assistance of her erstwhile employer.  For a moment,
the fantasy of arresting Quark on an aiding and abetting charge put a
gleam in the Constable's eye, but with a sigh he decided it was unlikely. 
He'd had all incoming ships on the tightest security watch.  If the singer
had come back to Deep Space Nine then she was a shapeshifter too.  Because
if she had returned wearing her own form he would have had her in a cell
by now.  The door chime interrupted his train of thought and he swiveled
forward with a curt, "Enter."
	The woman striding to a halt in front of his desk was a new
experience for Odo.  He had grown used to a variety of different species
in the two years since the Federation had begun operations on the station. 
But he'd never before met a Saraian.  Her skin was the softest violet he
had ever seen, and the bright peridot eyes boring into his own were a
startling contrast.  They were as hard as the gems they resembled.  He took
in the twin shocks of ebony hair growing in crests down to her shoulders. 
Her plain khaki worksuit did nothing to hide the strength in her body, and
her feet in worn jungle boots were planted firmly apart.  Her whole
demeanor fairly shouted professionalism.  *I could dislike this person
very easily* he thought with some surprise.  Odo stiffened to meet the
perceived threat to his authority.  He was not prepared for the disarming
humor in her expression when he finished his quick survey.
	"My name is Chatir.  Thank you for cooperating with me on this
hunt."  Odo briskly shook her extended hand.  "I appreciate that you may
see my mission here as an imposition, and I'll cooperate as completely as
possible to stay out of your way and track my prey."
	The constable was taken aback at her forthright speech.  Well, two
could play this game.  "Welcome to Deep Space Nine.  I will cooperate to
the best of my ability, but my first priority is the safety and security
of the station.  If Aliera comes back here, she will be within my
jurisdiction and I will detain her.  My security forces will handle her."
	*Stiffrump.  Jealous of his authority, and more rigid than he
should be.  I wonder if he's even aware of the pain under the formality? 
A much more sensitive being than his crewmates credit.  I can use that.*
None of her thoughts showed on her face.  The empath's quick probe told
her how to handle the situation.  She was careful to keep her expression
neutral.  "I will not hinder your efforts.  My primary concern is to
capture the thief assassin.  I appreciate your help."  With a crisp
movement she handed him a small case.  "My documents, license to carry
specified defensive weaponry, warrants for the Romulan, tracker
credentials.  I will be staying in guest quarters, comm link on the first
page,"  Odo glanced down to confirm this but Chatir didn't pause.  "I will
begin my search tomorrow morning on Bajor, in the environs of the attack
yesterday."  He glanced at her sharply.  She almost smiled.  *Yes, that
surprised you.  I do have some sources -- I never go into any job cold.*
"She's a dangerous woman, Mr. Odo.  I do my background work."
	He caught himself before he snorted.  One question he had not yet
asked, and he wasn't quite sure how to phrase it.  Good thing he wasn't
known for tact.  Besides, he didn't think bluntness would offend this one. 
"I am unfamiliar with Saraians.  What is the extent of your telepathic
capability?"
	"None," she answered readily.  "I am purely empathic.  So you don't
have to guard your thoughts around me, Mr. Odo.  I couldn't read them if I
wanted to."
	"Good."  He looked hard at his visitor.  "That will make it easier
for me to work with you."
	She nodded.  If he only knew.  Emotions were much easier to
utilize than thoughts, and she was an expert.  "Mr. Odo, I have the bare
outline of the attack at the monastery, but I need more details in order
to track the criminal.  Would you allow me access to those reports?"  Odo
was completely unaware of the subtle shift in her voice, as she nudged his
love of justice high enough to overcome any misgivings he had about
allowing an outsider to access his files.  Slightly damping his natural
caution and emphasizing his strong sense of right and wrong, she
manipulated the constable into giving her every bit of information she
wanted, even the classified portions ... much more than he realized.  *So
easy.  They never even know what hit them.* Odo bent to retrieve the
security files and missed her satisfied smile. 


	
***********************************************************************



	*Damn, damn, damn.* The litany of self reproach kept perfect time
with the clatter of Kira's bootheels as she left Ops.  Commander Sisko had
been interested in her report, but there wasn't much to say.  Even less
than he knew.  Vedek Bareil was doing well, except for a slight residual
headache.  He was fine.  Great.  Wonderful.  The picnic had been
incredible.  Every time she looked at him she wanted to throw herself into
his arms and it was an effort to hold a halfway intelligent conversation. 
But she still hadn't been able to do it.  *I never thought you were a
coward, Kira Nerys.* She still couldn't tell him about the Orb, or about
her past.
	Finally arriving at her quarters, she stared at the altar for a
very long time.  Her heart, body and soul all knew where they belonged. 
Now if only her mind, and her memories, would stop sabotaging her.  She
tried to compose herself for meditation, but it was a wasted effort.  His
face was superimposed on the darkness behind her eyelids.  Eventually she
gave up trying to pray.  Sinking into a comfortable position on the floor,
eyes fixed on the wormhole beyond the window, she let her thoughts wander
freely to Bareil.  As her muscles gradually relaxed she heard his voice in
her ears, "May the Prophets guide your dreams."  She was afraid They just
might. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Chatir practically sniffed the air outside the busy bar.  The
Ferengi owner had been a nasty little brew of anger, lust, desire for
revenge and greed.  Easy enough to get the recent background on the
Romulan from him.  He had burst like an overripe pod, full of indignation,
frustration and information.  *Fertile hunting* she grinned as she stepped
over the threshold and into a crush of emotions.  With practiced ease she
sorted and screened until she had complete control.  Then she headed for
the bar.
	Looking up from the Tirelian Timebomb he was mixing, Quark's face
gleamed as the Saraian came his way.  He'd always had a taste for the
exotics.  Slapping the drink at a nearly somnolent Morn, he hurried to
greet his new customer.  "Hello, hello!  Any luck with our, um, dear
security chief?  How about a drink?  Hey, you wouldn't happen to sing,
would you?"  Her incredulous look momentarily halted his stream of words,
but he quickly regrouped.  "No, of course not, forget I asked.  All
settled into your quarters?  Feel the need for some company?"
	Chatir nearly laughed aloud at the transparency of the little
bartender.  Clear lust mixed with greed.  Not exactly complex.  She gave
him a stern look and growled, "Andorian ale."  Quark noticeably wilted,
then darted away to fetch her drink.  Satisfied that his pretensions were
suitably depressed (at least temporarily) she turned her attention back to
the crowd.
	Sisko straightened his spine and stepped into Quark's bar,
fighting back instinctive distaste.  His eyes searched the dimly lit room
for Odo.  The constable had asked him to meet him here, because he wanted
the commander to talk to a bounty hunter.  The tracker was here chasing
after the woman who had attacked Doctor Bashir.  He gave a concerned
thought to the doctor, then concentrated on finding Odo.  He had little
enough time to spend with Jake as it was, and now he was going to be late. 
Again.
	"Good.  You made it."  Odo detached himself from his observation
post next to the dabo tables and joined the commander.  "This shouldn't
take long.  Chatir is right over here."  She was facing them as they moved
across the floor in her direction.  With a slight inclination of her head,
she raised her glass to salute the shapeshifter, then took a sip.
	"Seems to like you, Odo," Benjamin commented with a glimmer of a smile.
	"Hmph.  As long as I can be useful, I suppose."
	"She's beautiful."  A sidelong glance at Odo showed a trace of
humor.  He seldom got a chance to tease his security chief.  Apparently
this wasn't going to be one of those times.
	"If you like that type."  Increasing his pace, Odo terminated the
conversation by the simple expedient of refusing to talk.  Sisko shrugged
and followed in his wake as he cut a path through the crowd toward the
bar.
	"Commander Sisko, Chatir.  Chatir, this is Commander Sisko. 
Chatir, as I mentioned to you earlier, is tracking the fugitive that Quark
recently employed here as ...  an entertainer."  An indignant squawk from
behind the bar was silenced by two sets of stern eyes.  Under Odo and
Sisko's combined glares, Quark withdrew to the other end of the bar,
muttering about injustice and injured innocence under his breath.  The
trio ignored him and continued their conversation.
	"Hello, commander.  Constable Odo has been very helpful.  Thank you
for the information, Constable.  I have been reviewing it this afternoon."
	"Chatir will be going down to Bajor tomorrow to interview The
guards and Vedek Bareil at the monastery."
	"Yes, I heard Major Kira making the arrangements."  Turning to the
tracker, Sisko continued.  "The victims of the attack included Major Kira,
my second-in-command, and my chief medical officer Doctor Bashir.  Perhaps
you would like to talk with them before going to Bajor."
	*Interesting.  He doesn't want me to talk to them at all.  What are
you hiding?* "Thank you, but I must go to Bajor as soon as possible.  If I
am unable to locate the fugitive, I will need to speak with them.  But I
must hunt while the trail is fresh."  *Complex.  This one is hard to read
-- too much control, and too many scars.  But there is definite
reluctance.  Now, about which one?*
	"I've often found interviews yield clues, Chatir."
	"Yes, Mr. Odo, they do.  But I track somewhat differently than you
do.  Speed is imperative, while her guard is down.  And I must determine
why she chose Bajor-"  *Whew!  What was that?* She continued her
conversation with the two men on a surface level, but all of her empathic
attention was captured by the tall, slender Human coming into the bar.  He
was beautiful, all long clean lines and warm creamy skin, with huge dark
eyes.  But it was his emotional state that completely distracted her.  He
was an incredibly strong mixture of pain, desire, exhaustion, caring,
sensitivity and darkness -- with flashes of deep empathic shields broken
to pieces and glinting like shattered glass.  He was affecting her like
the gravity pull from a black hole on a shuttlecraft.  And, blessed
Spirits, he was coming over to join them.
	"Doctor.  How are you this evening?  Still sore?"  Sisko's voice
greeting the newcomer drew her back into the scene.
	"Good evening, sir, Odo.  I'm fine, thank you."  His eyes met hers
and she drew a breath.  Incredible.  Every nerve ending went on alert, and
she instinctively probed him.  To her complete shock he physically
recoiled.  She immediately withdrew and watched him closely.
	"Doctor Bashir?"  Odo's sharp question broke the connection between
them, and the young man turned to him.  "What's wrong?"  Odo's suspicious
eyes flicked back and forth between the doctor and the tracker.
	"Nothing, Odo."  He had recovered quickly.  His now-steady gaze met
Chatir's.  "Hello.  I'm Doctor Julian Bashir."
	She smiled and lightly clasped his outstretched hand.  "My name is
Chatir."
	"Welcome to Deep Space Nine, Chatir.  What brings you all this way? 
Saraia is not exactly a near neighbor to Bajor."
	"She's a tracker, doctor."  Odo's voice held no trace of warmth.  A
sudden increase of noise from the vicinity of the dabo tables distracted
him.  With a muffled "Excuse me,"  Odo hurried away to quell the miniriot
that was brewing.  Sisko took the moment to study his chief medical
officer for a moment.  Bashir appeared to be recovered from the previous
day's adventure, if still a little tired.  He still hadn't released
Chatir's hand.  *Dax might have a run for her money* he smiled to himself. 
Meanwhile, he felt like a third wheel, and Jake was waiting.  Neither
Bashir nor the Saraian seemed perturbed when he made his excuses, so he
left them to one another.
	Julian was barely aware that Sisko had left them.  Chatir's hand
was warm and strong in his, but it was more than that.  He could sense her
delicately tracing the edges of his emotions, skirting the outlines of
feelings he struggled to contain, skittering along his nerve endings like
trickles of ice water running down the center of his back.  He caught his
breath at the gentle, ephemeral touch.  Sending out his own delicate
probe, he was unprepared for the depths of her fascination with him.  He
knew Saraians were empathic, but the only other being who had ever touched
him this tenderly had been Aliera.  And that had been a long time ago. 
Battered and tired from his recent experiences, he was unable to hold
himself apart from her soft exploration.  Helplessly he moved closer to
her.
	The empath gently pulled Julian closer to her, holding his hand
tightly and settling him next to her against the corner of the bar.  *I'd
better watch this one.  More depth of power here than I'm used to.*
Rational thought fled as the proximity of his body sensitized hers.  *What
delightful coolness!* She was dimly aware that they were pressed closely
together, touching from knee to breast, she tucked into his side, her eyes
locked to his.  He still clasped her hand in his, and his free arm curved
around her back to rest on the polished surface of the bar.  Caught up in
the turmoil of their emotions, she didn't notice the tall female form
coming to a stop directly behind them.
	"Hello, Julian."  Dax's clear voice broke the strange tension
between them, and Chatir gave a small start.  Bashir went completely
still.  Slowly, he drew back from Chatir, dropping her hand and turning to
face the Trill.  Her face was very pale and her markings looked very dark
against her temples.  She was staring intently at Chatir and missed the
curiously blank look in Julian's eyes.
	"Good evening, Jadzia."  He seemed unaware of her intensity, but he
instinctively placed himself between the two women.  "This is Chatir. 
Chatir, this is Lieutenant Jadzia Dax.  She's our science officer. 
Jadzia, Chatir is a tracker."  The fact seemed to finally penetrate his
exhaustion.  "Tracking Aliera, I presume."
	"How do you do."  Dax examined the Saraian carefully.  She felt at
a disadvantage, dealing with an empath, but she also feared that Chatir
would be a threat to Julian.  That she would *not* allow.  Controlling her
emotions as completely as possible, she moved closer to him and took his
arm.  Looking as proprietary as possible, she smiled at Chatir and hugged
Julian's arm tightly.
	Bashir felt like a bone caught between two bloodhounds.  Seeking
too settle the situation down, and wondering what had gotten into Jadzia
but to tired to probe and find out, he put on his most charming smile. 
"Chatir will be going down to Bajor tomorrow."  The empath looked at him
sharply and he quickly covered the slip.  *Can't let her know I can hear
her thoughts.* "I overheard Odo and Commander Sisko talking about it
earlier.  Do you have any leads?"
	"Not yet.  This has been an interesting evening, but I must excuse
myself.  I have to prepare for the hunt tomorrow."
	Dax felt the involuntary flinch in Julian's body.  Protectively
she drew Chatir's attention away from him.  "I wish you luck.  Be careful,
though.  She can be very dangerous."
	"Yes, so I've learned from her files."  *Blank, but not completely. 
She's had practice putting up walls.* She was reading a strong interaction
between the Trill and the Human.  *Close, but not yet lovers.  A lot of
shadows playing there.* With a mental shrug, she smiled politely at both
of them.  "I do have to be going, however.  There is much to prepare.  It
was a pleasure meeting you."  The words were addressed to both, but her
eyes lingered on Julian.  She nodded her good-byes and headed for the
door.  She had gathered a lot of information tonight.  Now she had to sort
through it and get ready for the next day's hunting.
	Julian watched the tracker leave.  Dax watched Julian.  Neither
was happy with the situation.  Quietly she dropped his arm and move
slightly away from him.
	"Dax!  Hello!"  Quark's irritatingly cheerful voice fell into the
small pool of silence between them.  With an effort, Julian focused on the
bartender.  Deciding he really wasn't up to dealing with the pleasantries
company demanded after all, he smiled vaguely in the direction of the bar
and spoke to his friend.
	"Would you like to go for a walk, Jadzia?"  His eyes narrowed
against the glare from the tables.  "My headache is not agreeing with the
din in here, I'm afraid."
	She returned his smile and nodded agreement.  "The promenade
should be quiet by now."  With a quick smile for Quark, she took Julian's
hand and wove a path to the door.  Quark looked after the pair with a
trace of envy.  *Even if she does treat him like her favorite puppy, at
least she spends time with him.  What a waste of womanhood.* His ears
twitched once before his attention was caught by a patron at the end of
the bar.  Putting aside useless speculation in favor of potential profits,
he returned to his business. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Julian and Jadzia walked slowly along the upper deck of the
promenade, each immersed in their own thoughts.  The usual daily bustle
had faded, and the stark beauty of the stars outside the oval windows
calmed them both.  Julian was drawn to a stop by a particularly
spectacular sight.  A ship was debarking and the wormhole flared into
existence, glowing purple, white and amber, swirling in an incredible
display of power and sheer size.
	"It's immense.  No wonder the Bajorans consider it holy."  His
hushed voice perfectly complimented the atmosphere between them.  Without
taking his eyes from the vision before him, he shivered and wrapped his
arms around himself.  "It always makes me feel so ...  insignificant. 
It's quite incredible to watch."
	She moved behind him, close enough for him to feel her presence at
his shoulder.  *Let me hold you * whispered in his mind.  He half expected
the familiar panic at her proximity and his vulnerability, but it was
muted this time.  He relaxed fractionally.  As the wormhole closed behind
the freighter and disappeared from sight, he turned to look at her.  No
signs of her thoughts showed on her composed face, but her eyes were warm
on his.  Smiling wistfully, he gave her a quick hug, dropping the embrace
before she could return it.  Ignoring her surprised look, he started
toward the habitat ring.  Keeping one hand gently at the small of her
back, he guided her toward the lift.
	"This has really helped, Jadzia.  I always relax in your company."
	"Well, good."  *I think.  Relaxation wasn't quite the effect I was
hoping for.* "Maybe you can get some rest tonight."
	He caught the wisp of chagrin in her response and involuntarily
smiled at her underlying frustration.  *This is a bit of a turnaround!*
Covering his grin with a cheerful, "Oh, I've no doubt I will," he escorted
her to her door.
	*Ever the gentleman.  What happened to all that unrequited ardor of
just a few days ago?* echoed in his mind.  *If you only knew, Jadzia love. 
It's still there, it's just been pounded so much lately I couldn't do
anything even if I had the energy to want it.*
	At her door she turned to him.  "Would you like to come in for a drink?"
	"Normally I would love to, Jadzia."  He couldn't believe the irony. 
Finally getting the invitation he'd been pursuing for nearly two years,
and he was too exhausted to take her up on it.  *Bad timing!* "I'm afraid
I'd fall asleep on your sofa.  May I have a rain check?"
	"Definitely."  Intent on courtship, and trying hard not to trigger
any unpleasant memories, she slowly reached out to him.  Lightly balancing
one hand on his shoulder, taking care not to touch him anywhere else, she
gently pressed her lips to his.  What was intended to be a quick
good-night kiss startled both of them with its intensity.  Bashir stood
completely still, all of his attention focused on their mouths, his fists
clenched at his sides.  Trying desperately to keep a tight rein on his
emotions and concentrating fiercely on not getting pulled under by the
force of hers, he was dimly aware of a muffled whimper as his tongue slid
over hers and the kiss deepened.
	Slightly dazed by the force of their kiss and not quite believing
she had made that sound, Jadzia drew back slowly.  *Patience.  Slowly. 
Patience.* she chanted to herself like a mantra.  Pulling back to look
into Julian's face, she was surprised to see that his eyes were open. 
They mesmerized her, golden brown like molten bronze in the shadows of the
corridor.  She dropped her hand from his shoulder and tried to gather her
thoughts.
	"Be careful of Chatir, Julian.  She's an empath, and a professional
bounty hunter.  If she makes the connection between you and Aliera ..."
	He nodded in reply.  With a soft "good night," she slipped into
her quarters.  He stared at the closed doors for a long moment, lips
tingling from the intensity of her kiss.  Finally shaking his head to
clear it, he turned to go to his own rooms.  *What on Earth did she mean
about courtship?* Puzzling over her changing moods and the struggle
between her thoughts and actions, he slowly wandered down the corridor. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Surveying the landscape with a trained eye, Chatir was momentarily
distracted by the signs of destruction marring an otherwise beautiful
landscape.  Graceful arcs swept along the tops of buildings, and small
cultivated plots showed isolated patched of green here and there.  The
countryside surrounding the monastery showed signs of drought and harsh
management, barely beginning to recover from the depredations of the
occupation.  But this was not her concern.  Her attention was fixed on the
swamplands to the east of the main buildings.  According to the Vedek, the
Romulan had last been seen heading in that direction.  And swamps were
difficult for tracking.  Especially when tracking such canny prey.  Eyes
still fixed on the distant shadows, she cast her thoughts back to the
recent interview.  The Bajoran had been very civil, and quite informative,
but rather difficult to read.  He had obviously sustained some psychic
damage in the attack, and probing it had helped her gauge the depth of
strength of her opponent.  She had been impressed.  Both at the controlled
ferocity of the psi bolt and his unconsciously adept defense.  The Vedek
had a high degree of psychic ability himself, including very tough shields
born of brutal psychological torture.  She wondered if he was aware of it,
and decided he wasn't.  She also wondered for a moment about the
Cardassian camps that had so thoroughly honed those shields, then
dismissed him as unimportant.  She had gotten all the information he was
able to provide.  Now it was time for the hunt. 


	
***********************************************************************



	The tickle under her left ear awoke her.  Controlling her
reaction, Ali slowly raised her left hand to the source of the tickle,
focusing her mind as she moved.  No coherent thoughts met her probe, and
her hand closed gently around the body of the insect to pull it away from
her skin.  It was almost translucent in the daylight, blue black shiny
body dwarfed by a handspan of delicate veined wings.  Sleep dulled green
eyes met inquisitive onyx for a moment, then she laughed and allowed the
creature to flutter away.  A good sign -- the Spirits of Air awakening her
by special messenger.
	Stretching carefully, she loosened cramped muscles and winced as
blood began to flow back into her feet and hands.  She quickly took an
internal inventory and was pleased to feel much less stiffness and pain
than the previous day.  It was a good thing, too, because stiff or not she
had to get further into the swamps to hide.  She wasn't through with
Ishmir ... damnit, Julian ... yet, and she had to come up with some
strategy to get him back down to Bajor.  That irritating shapeshifter up
on the station would no doubt be watching all the ships, and he'd have his
security forces on alert.  If only she had taken him out the first time,
outside his quarters.  It was unlike her to fail.  Of course, contrary to
her rather lurid reputation, it was unlike her to deliberately attempt to
kill someone.  Selective bone breaking and defensive death dealing aside,
she was a much better thief than killer.  And she'd never tried to kill
someone she loved before.
	The thought made her stumble.  *Love?  How could I love him?  I
don't even believe in love.  And it certainly wouldn't be for him, even if
I did, deserting me like some street rat!* A bare wisp of concentrated
thought broke into her preoccupation and reminded her that this was
neither the time nor the place for emotional inner debates.  Dropping into
a crouch, she eliminated all emotional undertones from her thoughts and
concentrated on listening.  As hard and as quietly as she could. 
	*Here* the thought was faint with distance and had an alien
intonation.  *Residue.* With effort, Ali traced the accent.  Vaguely
familiar, but it had been a long time.  *Outbuildings.  Hidden.* Holy
Spirits of Soil and Fire, it was that bloody Saraian.  How had she tracked
her here so quickly?  Firmly damping down any signs of panic, Aliera
dropped into a densely covered gully behind a small stand of trees.  The
light was murky at best, and dangling vines falling over intertwined
branches covered her hiding place well.  Taking a deep, silent breath,
Aliera called upon her reserves of strength and sank into a rigidly
controlled deep meditative trance.  All facets of her identity merged and
sank into a calm pool, far within her mind.  Her breathing became slow and
shallow, her pulse dropped.  Not a ripple of emotion marred the surface of
the pool.
	*Infernal spirits!  For an instant there I had something!* Chatir's
anger momentarily overwhelmed her hunting instincts.  Calming herself, she
cast out in all directions, trying to determine if the whispers of fear
she had felt had been real or a reflection of her own anticipation. 
Besides the considerable sums she would receive from the various
governments that had rewards out on the Romulan, there was the
satisfaction of taking down a worthy prey.  The hunt, and the kill at
hunt's end, were her real payoff.  Chatir knew herself very well.  And for
one of her kind, sanctioned death was a reward she craved.  The sensation
was incomparable.
	Unable to find a trace of her prey, she withdrew toward the
monastery.  She would have to wait for another day for the kill, but that
was not unexpected.  The Romulan was clever.  The delay only made the
anticipation sweeter and the kill more satisfactory.  After the successful
conclusion to the hunt, she would return the body to Earth and send proof
of death to the other governments holding warrants for the criminal.  For
now, she would take the constable's advice and interview the Bajoran woman
and the Human male who had been attacked.  She might be able to read
something from them that could be useful.  And with the male, it might
even be pleasurable.  *Those broken shields intrigue me.*
	From deep within her pool of calm, Aliera felt the threatening
presence grow dim.  She waited long moments to ensure that the threat had
truly passed, then allowed herself to surface slowly.  Her breath
regulated itself back to a normal rate, and she became aware of her
surroundings -- the quiet of the swamp, muffled in moss, the patch of wet
under her right calf, the twig digging into her back between her shoulder
blades.  Thinking hard, she knew she had very little time.  The bounty
hunter was out to kill her, and she could use Julian to do it.  The
thought of her old stablemate in the hands of a psychotic tracker made Ali
feel slightly sick.  *Better to bring it all to an end, here.  Now.  If
anyone is going to deal with Julian it will be me.  Not her.* Burrowing
back into a shadowy overhand of the gully, she began to plan her strategy. 

	
First to put out a little bait.* Concentrating fiercely, she reached out


to her old lover, careful to focus her power so that no overlap would
alert the bounty hunter.  She slipped into their connection with an ease
she hadn't expected.  Unwilling to face the reason for that ease, she
concentrated on the connection. 


	
***********************************************************************



	The liquid notes from the tenor saxophone wrapped themselves
around Julian and he began to relax for the first time in days. 
"Serenity."  Beautiful song.  Interesting concept.  He hadn't enjoyed much
serenity lately.  Closing his eyes, he gave himself up to the comfort of
the music.  Visions formed in the darkness behind his eyelids.  Aliera,
with emerald eyes brimming with laughter, holding her hands out to him,
coaxing him into some game or another.  "You are too serious, Healer! 
Smile.  Time enough to think when you're old and dead.  Move now, or fat
butt will catch up with us!"  A smile curved his lips.  Not all of his
memories were horrible, thanks to his Warrior.  She had saved his sanity
so many times.  He felt her hand take his, fingers warm and strong, dry
from the desert air.  Laughing, he followed her lead, into the maze of
crumbling buildings behind the marketplace.  He adored her, his friend,
his protector, older than he by only a few months but so much stronger. 
She didn't feel their feelings, wasn't crippled by their pain and anger. 
She could protect them both.  Besides, she was the loveliest thing he had
ever seen, even when they were just children.  The music swelled over him
and he remembered the beginning, when she watched over him after his
mother had died and the tribe had abandoned him.  Just another mouth to
feed and not enough food or water to stretch.  He'd had no one to turn to,
frightened, alone.  She kept the others away from him until he was able to
hold them off himself, until he had earned their respect by healing their
hurts, simple healing but enough for them.  More than they had before he
came.  She had even deflected their owner's painful attention whenever she
could.  But they hadn't made love, not for years.  Sex was something you
did to earn your keep and avoid beatings, a tradeoff for food and a degree
of safety.  Not what you did with a friend, she meant more to him than
that.  Until his sixteenth year.  Seven years on the streets and he hadn't
known what lovemaking was.  Until Aliera showed him.
	She felt so real to him there in the darkness.  Gradually, he
became aware of the wetness on his cheeks, and at the same time he
realized that her presence wasn't just a memory.  Their link was open. 

	
Aliera?*


	*I had forgotten that in all the anger, Ishmir.  Julian.  I'm
surprised you remembered.*
	His body stiffened, wariness replacing relaxation.  *Thought you'd
left.*
	*Don't think, baby.  Outside the sickroom, it's not your strength.*
A suggestion of laughter in the thought.  He smiled in response.
	*Still going to kill me?* Sadness laced the question and his smile
faded.
	*Give me a reason not to.*
	*How?*  His thoughts turned to Chatir.
	*Exactly.  Think about it.* With that, she severed the connection. 
Julian sank deeper into his seat and wondered what she expected him to do. 
And what her reaction would be when he did it. 


	
***********************************************************************



	"She's practically sniffing the ground."
	Quark didn't quite believe what he'd heard.  He looked at the
lovely Trill gracing his bar with her presence and shook his head
slightly.  Dax noticed his attention and favored him with a blinding
smile.  Completely nonplused, Quark grinned shakily back and drifted over
to the side of the bar to see if there was anything, anything at all, that
he could do for her.  Preening slightly, he opened his mouth to dazzle her
with his wit.  Then he noticed that the smile had turned to a scowl, and
it was aimed directly at Chatir coming through the door.  Remembering the
earlier scene with the doctor, and deciding that he really didn't want to
end up in the middle of a cat fight (no matter how civilized), he swiveled
midstep and made a determinedly unconcerned swipe at the bar with his
cleaning cloth.
	Superficially, Jadzia was aware of and amused by the little
Ferengi's actions.  But most of her attention was on the bounty hunter. 
Masking her instinctive distaste as well as she could, she made eye
contact with Chatir.  Inclining her head, she indicated the vacant stool
beside her.  After a moment's hesitation, Chatir wove through the crowd. 
Cold peridot eyes queried bland blue ones, and the game began. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Once again, Cardassian technology stymied Bajoran determination. 
Cursing under her breath, Kira pounded the flat of her hand against the
recalcitrant replicator.  It was late, she was hungry, and the replimats
didn't have quite what she was looking for.  That only left Quark's.  She
stood, indecisive for a moment, until her stomach gave a pronounced
gurgle.  Making a mental note to ask the chief to come take a look at the
temperamental replicator in the morning, she sighed and headed off to the
promenade.
	The bar was quiet this time of night.  She automatically scanned
the interior, then stepped over the threshold.  Quark looked up from
behind the bar, his look of anticipation quickly replaced by thinly-masked
apprehension.  Ignoring him -- to his relief -- she spotted Dax and went
over to join her.  From the look on her friend's face, she needed to talk
to someone.  Badly.
	"This seat taken?"  Kira's question cut through Jadzia's
preoccupation.  Seeing who was standing across from her, she quickly
nodded toward the stool.  Staring fixedly at Kira, she nibbled on her
lower lip and didn't say anything.  Finally, Kira couldn't stand it any
longer.
	"Dax, you're going to chew your lip off."
	"Hmph."  She stopped nibbling long enough to snort, then resumed. 
She was really beginning to worry Kira by this point.
	"Okay.  Spill it.  Something happened.  What was it?"
	"Maybe it did.  Maybe not yet.  Maybe it's going to."  Dax shifted
uneasily in her seat then leaned forward to get closer to her.  "Kira ...
I'm worried ... about someone."
	*Pulling teeth would be easier.* "Who?"
	"Well, it's just ... I can't tell you the whole story."
	Kira looked at Dax in disbelief.  "You don't trust me?"
	"No!  No, it's not that.  It's just that it's not my story to tell. 
But I need help.  I can't do this on my own, and that woman scares me. 
There's something cold about her, really cold.  And I'm afraid of what she
can do.  Not to me, but to Julian-"  Dax's lips clamped shut.  *Oh, hell*
was clearly written on her face.
	Kira took a deep breath.  Dinner could wait.  This sounded
serious.  "I should know what's going on, Dax.  That Romulan came after
me, and Vedek Bareil, as well as Bashir.  If she's back-"
	"No," Jadzia broke in.  "It's not Aliera.  Not directly.  There's a
bounty hunter on the station."
	"I know.  I made arrangements for her to visit the monastery
today."
	"She's been questioning me about Julian."
	"Why?"  Kira unconsciously dropped her voice to match the Trill's
near whisper.
	"I ... can't give you the details.  I don't have all of them
myself."  Her face pleaded with Kira to understand.  "But if she ties
Julian to Aliera, she could make things really terrible for him."
	"How terrible?"  Kira had an idea, but she needed some parameters
to gauge the threat.
	"She could destroy his reputation, get him discharged from Star
Fleet, and take him back to Earth on a murder charge."
	Kira had the vague knowledge that her mouth was hanging open. 

	
Holy Prophets.  Still waters indeed.* Gradually she realized that Jadzia


was still waiting for a response.  Flexing her jaw, she managed to close
her lips, but her mind was completely blank.
	"We can't let that happen, Kira."
	*No, I guess not.  Murder?* Gathering her thoughts, she blurted out
the first thing that came to mind.  "But he's a doctor!"
	Dax shook her head angrily and Kira noticed the glimmer of tears
in her eyes.  *She cares more about him than she's admitting.* Kira
reached out and covered Dax's right hand with her own.  Squeezing gently,
she gave comfort the only way she could.  Taking a deep, steadying breath,
Dax straightened her shoulders.  Turning her hand under Kira's, she
returned the pressure and smiled faintly.
	"I need your courage, my friend.  We have a doctor to protect."
	Smiling back at her, Kira replied, "So, tell me what we're up
against." 


	
***********************************************************************



	For once, Julian was thankful for an inadequate infirmary. 
Tallying tissue samples manually ate up the hours.  There had been no
emergencies today, only routine exams.  The hours were dragging, and it
was just past lunch.  His "conversation" with Aliera weighed heavily on
his mind.  He wanted to help her, but she was a threat to him, as well as
those around him.  And if this tracker made the same connections that
Jadzia had, he was in very deep trouble.  A shiver of sensation skittered
down his backbone and he looked up into watchful light eyes set in an
expressionless face.  Faltering slightly over the samples, he gathered
them and placed them carefully in a stasis field.  Reactions under
control, he turned to face his visitor.
	"Hello, Chatir.  You move very quietly."  Her answering smile felt
somehow feral.
	"Good afternoon, Doctor Bashir.  Silence is an asset in a hunter." 
She was very close to him.  Saraian basal body temperature was several
degrees higher than Human, and he felt as though she were searing him. 
His thoughts fragmented and he was distracted by her skin, her heat, her
eyes.  Vaguely he heard her voice.
	"I did a little research, Doctor.  Major Kira's life is an open
book, and I couldn't find anything connecting her to the Romulan."  The
cadence of her voice caught him up and he found himself swaying toward
her.  "But I could not access the background information on you, Doctor. 
Why is that?"
	As he opened her mouth to tell her, he heard it.  *-easy.  No
defenses at all.  Shields broken to-* During their conversation they had
moved together until they were chest to chest, and he took advantage of
their proximity.  Dipping his face into the curve of her neck, he hid his
expression.  *I can't believe how close she came!* Recognizing both the
purpose behind her questions and her manipulation of his emotions, he
distracted her the only way he could.  Biting the side of her neck
lightly, then laving it with his tongue, he felt her slight jump and heard
her thoughts scatter.  Now it was his turn to manipulate her, and he was
an expert, even if it had been a long time since he had used these
particular skills.  He'd managed to survive so long on the streets by
reading another's desires and meeting them before they even recognized
what they were.  After he had escaped, he had vowed that he would never
debase himself that way again.  But he had found himself doing many things
lately that he had sworn he'd never have to do again.
	*Spirits defend me, this one's powerful.* The thought pierced
through his mind, and he closed the empathic loop a bit.  Didn't want her
to get too suspicious -- had to keep her thinking this was all raw talent,
and that it was unconscious.  He had pulled her up tightly against him,
one hand thrust through the crest of fur along the side of her skull, one
hand drawing intricate patterns from her breast to her hip.  Her arms were
curved around him, hands curling up under his arms to dig her nails into
the bunched muscles of his shoulders.  Somehow one leg had curled up
around his thighs and she was holding him in the cradle of her hips. 
Neither heard the first cough from the doorway.  Or the second.
	"Pardon me, Doctor Bashir."  Nurse T'Laak's tone was frigid enough
to douse their passion.  Chatir drew back from him with an utterly dazed
look on her face.  Julian straightened from the counter and gently put her
aside.
	"Yes, T'Laak?"  His voice was surprisingly steady, considering that
he felt like he'd just been scorched.  His hands still shook.  *I tasted
something familiar in there.  And very unpleasant.*
	"Your next appointment is here, Doctor."
	"Thank you, Nurse."  With a brusque nod, she turned on her heel and
went into the adjoining room.  Julian turned back to Chatir.  "I'm sorry. 
I don't know what came over me.  I do apologize."  He felt her swift
probe, but concentrated on projecting a mixture of contrition and rampant
lust.  He managed to conceal his distaste, for both of them, lying under
the surface.  She was shaken enough to let him get away with it.
	"No, please, don't apologize.  But let's continue our ...
conversation later."  *Very intense!* "At my quarters?  Tonight?"
	"2000 hours?  *That will give me time to try to figure out what to
do next.* His expression didn't show the level of panic he was beginning
to feel.
	"Perfect."  With one final glance, she strode from the room. 
Julian took a deep breath to steady himself, then turned into the opposite
examination room.  As he did, the unmistakable crispness of T'Laak greeted
him.  *This is not typical behavior for Doctor Bashir.  I must keep a
closer watch on him.  He is too talented a physician to squander his
energy on such worthless pursuits.* His lips twitched and he wondered if
she was even aware of the strong disapproval lacing her thoughts.  With a
disciplined effort, he closed his telempathic channels and concentrated on
his patient.  *Enough eavesdropping.  I've work to do now.  I'll worry
about Chatir -- and Aliera -- later.*


	
***********************************************************************



	1800.  End of the duty day, and he was no closer to a solution
than he had been five hours earlier.  His thoughts were chasing themselves
in circles, and he was getting very nervous.  At the sound of T'Laak
greeting someone, he finished putting away his data pads and joined her in
the main exam room.  His weariness lifted when he saw her companion.
	"Hello, Jadzia!"  T'Laak nodded good-bye to both officers, and Dax
turned to him.
	"You look like you could use a break, Julian."
	*You have no idea ...* "I was thinking of dinner."
	"Care for some company?"  Friendly.  Casual.  Completely
unconvincing.  Julian hooked his hands together over his stomach and
leaned against an exam table.  She met his eyes with determined innocence,
and he decided to take her offer at face value.  "As long as it's not
Klingon.  I'm getting a little tired of chasing my food."
	They shared a quick grin.  Linking her arm through his, she pulled
him up with a chuckle.  "Oh, all right.  Let's go for the same old thing. 
Quark's?"
	His laugh eased both of them a little.  He felt the tension
release between his shoulder blades and he hugged her arm against his
side.  "Just don't tell *him* you think that way!  Who knows what side
show he'd bring in to spice it up for you!"  Giggling like a pair of
children they headed for the promenade.
	They shared a companionable silence until they arrived at the bar. 
Dax was aware of Julian's growing preoccupation, and had a strong feeling
it was linked to her own dark thoughts.  *Chatir.  Trouble.* She caught
his startled glance.
	"What?"  *Did I say it out loud?*
	"Nothing.  I thought you said something."
	She looked closely at him as Rom seated them and hovered for their
orders.  They settled for curried vegetables and thick, creamy soup, and
Rom scurried away.  Dax raised her glass of synthale and looked at Julian
over the rim.
	"You look like you're getting a little more sleep.  Have you been
feeling more secure since Aliera's gone?"
	"I have been sleeping better.  But," he paused to sip his drink and
gather his courage, "she's not gone."
	Dax choked on her drink.  He leaned forward to help but she waved
him away.  Clearing her throat, she glared at him.  "Why didn't you tell
me?  Where is she?  Are you in danger from her too?"
	"I didn't know for certain until early this morning, I'm not sure
quite where on Bajor she is, and what do you mean, her, too?"
	The sound of Rom hopping from one foot to the other and whining
slightly interrupted their budding argument.  Both officers turned to
glare at him and he nearly dropped their dinners.  Hastily plunking the
plates in front of them, he bobbed his head several times and backed away
as quickly as possible.  Silence blanketed the table and they both
concentrated on their soup.  Finally, Dax sighed.  Julian risked a look at
her, to find her staring at him.  Her head was propped on one fist and her
eyes were sad.  *This isn't how it's supposed to be* whispered through his
mind and he made a determined effort to block out her thoughts.  It was
unfair to eavesdrop when she didn't know he could.
	"I'm sorry, Jadzia.  I didn't mean to snap at you.  I guess it's
getting to me a bit, but there's no excuse for taking it out on my
friends."  Her sweet smile reassured him and he continued.  "But who else
were you referring to as a threat?"
	She straightened and looked intently at him.  "I warned you about
Chatir."  She was surprised to see a warm blush spread along his
cheekbones.  "She cornered me in Quark's last night and was trying to get
information about you."  Momentary embarrassment fading, he leaned toward
her.  Food forgotten, she filled him in on the verbal dance she and Chatir
had engaged in, and finished with a final warning.  "She senses something,
Julian , about you and Aliera.  And I'm afraid of what she's going to find
out."
	He absently pushed a carrot slice around his plate.  After a
moment he looked up at her.  "She came to the infirmary too."  Dax tensed. 
"Tried to question me."
	"If she finds out that you were Ishmir ..."
	"She just can't."
	"Are you going to see her again?"  Her voice was heavy with worry.
	"Yes.  Tonight.  In about an hour."
	Dax stifled a curse.  "You can't."
	"I have to."  His face was set and grave, eyes more serious than
she had ever seen.
	"Julian!  She's an empath.  And she's dangerous."
	*Much more than you realize, love.* "If I don't go then she'll be
even more suspicious, and even more dangerous."
	Silently they finished their meal.  Then Jadzia reached over and
intertwined her fingers with his.  "Please be careful."  Her expression
was solemn but her eyes were alive with concern.  He gave her a singularly
beautiful smile.
	"I will." 


	
***********************************************************************



	Caught up in each other, neither Julian nor Jadzia had noticed a
small brown being in the shadows of the adjoining table.  He was well
suited for his role in life, and his talents were blending and listening. 
Mole he looked and mole he was.  The tracker would be very interested in
this information, and she paid well for loyal servants.  He thought for a
brief moment about what she did to disloyal servants, and shuddered. 
Carefully keeping out of sight of the departing Star Fleet officers, he
slipped away to make his report. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Bashir smoothed damp palms over his simple amber silk shirt.  He
checked his appearance once more, out of nerves.  Black pleated trousers,
half boots shined, short curls relatively smooth, jaw freshly shaved.  His
throat felt dry and the pit of his stomach was twisted into a tight knot,
but he had to see where this would take him.  It had been a long time
since he had played these games, and the stakes had never been higher. 
Forcing his hand to remain steady, he reached out and touched the door
chime. 
	The doors slid open on an inviting "Come in."  As he stepped
inside, his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, and he ran his gaze over a
straightforward seduction scene.  Soft music, a Vulcan lyre and wind
instruments he didn't recognize, gave a subtle charge to the atmosphere. 
Candles sent shadows playing on the walls, and the spicy tang of an exotic
fragrance tempted him further into her quarters.  Finally he saw her,
leaning against the far wall.  A filmy shift in the same gem-like green as
her eyes accentuated her curves, and her crests flowed back and over the
tops of her arms.  Her eyes were huge and the smile on her lips was
intimate. 
	He was aware of the doors closing behind him, and for a moment he
panicked, feeling trapped.  Something flared behind her eyes in response
to his reaction, and her smile widened.  He was reminded of a predator
stalking her prey.  Then the fleeting image vanished and she was once
again Chatir, holding a drink out to him, inviting him to have a seat.
	Tentatively he probed her thoughts, being extremely careful not to
alert her to his presence.  In order to do it he had to relax the tight
control he held over his emotions, leaving him vulnerable.  He hated to
leave himself open to her manipulation, but it was his best opportunity to
discover her plans for him.  *Pleasure, then business.* That was clear
enough.  At least he knew she had an underlying purpose for this meeting. 
He didn't flatter himself that she was only interested in bedding him.
	"Do you like your drink?"
	"It's different.  Very smooth."
	"Earth brandy.  Almost a hundred standard years old."
	"It goes straight to my head."
	"I'm glad to hear that."
	Neither paid attention to the trivial conversation their tongues
made.  The real communication was purely emotional.  She was drawn to the
swirling mass of feelings he could no longer control, unaware of the
reason behind the sudden freedom.  The remnants of his empathic shields
caused odd blank spots in her readings, making her unsure of her
perceptions, like walking on sand at the water's edge when the tide was
coming in.  He was unprepared for her strength, caught up in her emotions,
his minimal controls swept away, a swimmer fighting the tide and yet
fascinated by it.  Lust, anger, frustration, fear and desire meshed and
parted, purple and pink, scarlet and royal blue.  Flashes of thought wove
themselves through the fabric of her emotions, confusing and overwhelming
him.  Underlying it was a darker shadow, hinted at but not yet touched, a
familiar bitter taste on his tongue.
	Brandy forgotten, music blending into the background, she reached
for him and pulled him down onto the couch.  He slid her body over his,
moved his hands on her skin through the thin fabric.  She returned the
favor, caressing his chest, feeling the warm pliability of muscle under
the cool silk.  Her lips came down to cover his, parting his lips, tongue
sweeping over his lower lip, dueling with his.  He raised her head to meet
her mouth, deepening the kiss, and his fingers found the fastenings on her
shift.  As he was baring her body to his touch, she was burrowing her
hands under his shirt, peeling it away and delighting in the smooth skin
and crisp curls she discovered.  Her lips left his to trace the long deep
dimples bracketing his mouth, the line of his jaw, his long slender neck. 
He arched under her hands as she continued undressing him, exploring the
line of his ribs, the thrust of his hipbone, the length of his legs.  He
rid her of the last of her clothing and finally they pressed their full
lengths against one another.  Weaving over and through the physical
pleasure they indulged in was the power of their mingled emotions.  Each
touch sent a fresh surge of color and flavor through them, enhancing every
movement.  They could taste the intensity of the emotions breaking over
them in waves.  When they finally joined the waves became a whirlpool, and
the reason for the familiar taste became apparent to Julian.  She was
tracing the network of scars across his back with her nails, running them
over the skin not quite hard enough to draw blood.  but in her mind the
picture was different -- there the blood flowed.  The pain excited her,
pulled her faster into the swirl.  She built on the pain, forcing it back
into their shared connection, until reality and mental image blurred.  She
fed on the panic she was creating in him.  Unable to control or overcome
the combined force of their emotions, he surrendered to them.  He felt her
tighten around him, heard her wordless cries, and the world exploded into
a myriad of colors and textures, centered in them.
	When he came to himself the link was broken.  He felt faintly
sick.  She lay on top of him, one elbow propped on his chest, peering
intently down at him.  The satisfied smile on her face should have warned
him.  Unfortunately it didn't.
	"Incredible.  I can see why you were such a popular commodity,
Ishmir."
	Shock drove through his body and he instantly stiffened.  Unable
to think of a single reply, he merely stared at her.
	"You don't need to talk.  Just listen.  I want the Romulan.  You
know where she is."  When he instinctively shook his head, she thrust her
fingers through his hair and forced him to be still.  Holding his eyes
with hers, she continued.  "You have a link.  I will use it to find her."
	"What makes you think I'd help you?"  His voice sounded rusty,
unused.  "Why should I betray her?"
	"Besides the fact that she has tried to kill you and your friends?" 
She shifted until her face was centimeters from his, her breath caressing
his lips.  "If you do not help me, *Ishmir*, I will take you back to Earth
instead.  And you can stand trial for murder there."  She lightly brushed
her lips with his, then nipped his lip sharply.  The coppery taste of
blood met the tip of his tongue, and he flinched.  She drew back to look
into his eyes again.  "But before I do, I'll make sure that this entire
station knows *exactly* why you left Earth."
	He stared at her, eyes huge, reflecting the gold from the
flickering candles.  She reached down one more time to kiss him deeply,
licking the blood from his lip, then loosening her grip on his hair. 
Lifting herself off his body, she ran an appreciative hand down his torso. 

	
Beautiful and useful.  What more could-* He cut off her thought.  He


didn't want to hear any more, didn't want to think any more.  Rolling away
from her, he gathered his scattered clothing and began to dress with
short, jerky movements.  She watched him in silent amusement.
	When he was covered again, he headed for the door.  A few paces
from it her voice stopped him.
	"We'll take my shuttle down to the planet tomorrow."
	He looked at her over his shoulder.  "How do you know she's on
Bajor?"
	"I felt her there.  So did you."  She shrugged off his glare.  "I
only felt residual traces here.  She's on Bajor.  And we are going to find
her."
	He turned back to leave.  "0500 hours, doctor.  Or by 0600, Ishmir
will be known station-wide.  And you will be in one of Mr. Odo's cells."
	He squared his shoulders and continued out the door.  Her words
haunted him, and the images they conjured up were among his worst
nightmares.  All very well for Kira to talk about the strength of
friendship.  but this was beyond something that friendship could forgive. 
By the time he reached his quarters his entire body was shaking with
reaction.  Sinking onto his bed, he rolled over onto his back and stared
up at the ceiling.  And the waking nightmare began again.
	Hot blue sky replaced the gray metal in front of his eyes.  The
bed cover under his body became gritty sand, shifting under him as the
empath bent him back.  The empath wasn't just holding him down, forcing
himself over him, pinning him to the ground.  This time he spoke with
Chatir's voice, and called him by name.  *Ishmir.* No way to escape, no
strength to fight.  This time there was no knife.  And the cycle was the
same, pain/pleasure/pressure, fed back into him, forced to a fever pitch,
taking him under, pulling him under.  As he screamed. losing the battle,
losing himself, bright peridot eyes watched him and laughed.
	He sat bolt upright, jaw clenched tight to keep back the screams. 
His fists clenched the bedcovers tightly.  His eyes were wide, staring,
and his cheeks were wet with tears.  Finally he recognized that dark
familiar taste.  Chatir was as sadistic as the bastard he'd had to kill. 
She thrived on the pain, lived for it, pleasured herself with it.  And if
he led her to Aliera, she would kill her.  If Dax found out and tried to
intervene, Chatir would hurt her too, just for the enjoyment of it. 
Desperately, he knew he couldn't involve Jadzia more than she already was. 
He'd go with Chatir the next morning, alone, and do the best he could. 
Whatever happened, Dax would be safe.
	He didn't know about Kira. 


	
***********************************************************************



	It had been another rough night.  After tossing and turning for
several hours, Kira gave up the attempt at sleep and moved to her computer
station.  *Might as well get some work done.* The figures on the manifest
scrolled past in the semi-dark of her quarters.  Odo hadn't come up with
anything in his search for the fugitive, but it couldn't hurt to
double-check the arrivals and departures.  One never knew if Quark might
decide to smuggle his ex-employee out of the system.  For the right price,
of course.
	A recent change caught her attention and she scrolled back to read
it again.  *That bounty hunter filed a new departure time to Bajor, four
hours earlier than originally planned.* Her eyes narrowed speculatively. 

	
0500.  Early for a social call.  Must not be planning on going to the


monastery.* On a hunch, she called up the duty roster for the infirmary. 
Doctor Bashir was scheduled for an odd night shift, coming in at mid-
afternoon.  Checking further, she found that the roster had just been
changed, within the hour.  She glanced up at the chronometer on the wall
-- 0425.  *Probably not worth waking Dax up for this ... could just be a
coincidence.* She didn't believe in those, though, so she quickly dressed. 
Automatically retrieving her hand weapon, she quietly left her quarters
and made her way to the docking bay.
	Turning the corner, all senses alert, she caught sight of Chatir. 
The doctor was with her and he looked like hell.  He was watching Chatir
with a loathing that seemed to amuse her, but he was following her into
her ship.  Moving silently and quietly, she slipped into the airlock
behind them.  Tension was rolling off Bashir in waves, and his companion
was concentrating completely on him.  As they moved to the front of the
ship, Kira crept into the small cargo hold at the rear and settled down
for the ride. 


	
***********************************************************************



	The three hour trip was tense and silent.  Chatir concentrated on
her flight instruments and focused her energy on the hunt to come. 
Julian's thoughts chased themselves in endless circles.  So many
variables.  So many things could happen.  He didn't dare contact Aliera. 
Chatir would pick up on it, and any warning Ali got would be offset by
their discovery of her location.  He'd felt some physical pain in their
last "conversation"  and knew she'd been wounded in the fight with Kira. 
As much as he feared her, he feared *for* her even more.  As they made
final approach to Bajor, he was no closer to a plan of action than he had
been on the station.  Briefly squeezing his eyes shut, trying to hold off
despair, he decided to wait and see what happened, and hope his reactions
would be fast enough to deal with whatever occurred.
	The tracker put the shuttle down in a clearing just north of the
main swamp, about ten kilometers from the monastery.  She unhooked her
harness and looked at him expectantly.  He glared back.
	"So now what?"  His tone was hostile.
	"Now, my dear, you point me toward my prey."  She reached across
him, unhooked his harness and pulled him from his seat.  Resistance
stiffened his body until she drew her weapon and traced his hairline with
the muzzle.  It was a modified disruptor, a messy and painful way to die. 

	
Just the way she likes it* he thought with the part of his mind not


frozen by fear.
	"If you shoot me, you certainly won't be able to use my link to
track Aliera."  He was surprised at how steady his voice sounded.
	"Oh, I'm sure your death throes would draw her out."  He swallowed
and she chuckled, a light, incongruous sound.  "But I won't need to kill
you, just hurt you a little.  You like that, don't you."  She laughed into
his defiant eyes, dark in the sunlight coming through the front screen
glaring at her fiercely.  "Not all of your clients liked it straight,
after all.  Surely you developed some taste for the more exotic
pleasures?"
	"She's not in the shuttle," he growled in response to her taunting. 
"If you want to find her let's get it over with."
	Chatir drew back from him, releasing his wrist and allowing him to
step out onto the grass.
	Kira waited until their voices faded, then uncurled from her
hiding place and crept silently out.  She put aside the puzzling
conversation she had overheard and set out after them.  They followed an
irregular course, roughly south, into the swamps.  Pushing back unpleasant
memories of previous campaigns, she followed at a distance.  She was
unable to hear what they said, but Chatir seemed to be following Bashir. 
They would walk for a distance, then he would stop and she would seem to
go into some sort of trance.  Unfortunately the weapon she kept trained on
the doctor never wavered, and she stayed far enough away from him that he
couldn't surprise her and disarm her.  After nearly an hour of this stop
and start searching, Chatir seemed to lose patience.  Before Kira could
get close enough to intervene, Chatir fired at the doctor and he staggered
back, clutching his shoulder.  Kira skirted the edge of the trees where
they had stopped and moved in cautiously
	Clenching his teeth to keep from crying out, Julian gripped his
shoulder and tried to slow the bleeding.  Pain gnawed at him, and Chatir
raised the weapon again.
	"Next time it's a knee, my dear.  Open the channel.  I want the
Romulan."
	*Julian?!  What happened?  I heard you scream!* Her voice was
strong in his mind.  Sensing that events were spiraling out of control, he
didn't answer, tried to close her out of his thoughts.  But he
involuntarily reacted to her concern, and the tracker's face lit up with
triumph.
	*No!  Aliera!  The bounty hunter's with me!  RUN!* He projected the
warning as strongly as he could, but Chatir was already pushing through
the undergrowth, heading deeper into the swamp.
	"Bloody, bloody hell!"  Scrambling to keep up, trying to ignore the
growing dizziness from blood loss, he pushed after her.
	*What on Bajor just happened?* Kira wondered as she followed the
doctor.  Her instincts warned her that all hell was about to break loose,
and she kept her head down.
	Julian broke through the tangled vines to find Aliera and Chatir
facing one another.  The fight was woefully mismatched, a disruptor
against a hunting knife.  But Chatir was delaying the kill, letting the
fear and anger build, to make the ending that much more satisfying.  Ali's
eyes met his for a brief moment, then they rushed the tracker together. 
Bashir threw his body at her weapon, fingers scrabbling for a grip, while
Aliera launched herself at Chatir's midriff, knocking her off balance. 
Chatir brought her left forearm across Julian's injured shoulder in a
vicious blow, and the pain caused him to lose his grip on her wrist. 
Shaking herself like a giant dog, Chatir twisted from Aliera's tackle and
kicked her in the ribs as she fell.  Before Chatir could raise her weapon
to Aliera, a flying weight caught her off guard, and Julian took her down
with a body block.  They rolled in a tangle of limbs to the base of a
tree.  Aliera managed to pull Chatir away from Julian, and cracked her
hard across the temple with her clenched fists.  Chatir went down and lay
still.  With a gasp of relief that sent arrows of pain through her broken
ribs, Ali turned to her battered friend.
	"Julian?"  *Oh, Elements, please don't let him be dead.* "Can you
hear me?"  She knelt beside him and stroked the side of his face. 

	
Please, baby, wake up.  Don't you dare die on me.*


	*I thought that's what you wanted, Ali.* The response was dimmed by
pain, but definite.  He opened his eyes and looked up at her wistfully.
	*No, not really.* She cupped his face in her hands.  *We have to
talk.  I've let you believe things, in my anger, that aren't true.*
	He turned his head to press a kiss into her palm and saw Chatir
pulling herself up from the ground.  She had her disruptor and was
bringing it up to shoot Aliera in the back.  Reacting instinctively, he
grabbed Aliera by the waist and flipped her underneath him, putting
himself between her and the weapon.
	*How sweet.  Two for one shot.* Chatir's thought snickered through
his mind and she leveled the disruptor to fire.  Aliera didn't have a
chance to push him out of danger before they heard the sharp whine of
phaser fire.  Chatir's scream echoed through their minds, and her death
agony wrenched at Julian's emotions, overwhelming him and causing him to
lose consciousness.
	Aliera caught Julian's weight as he slumped against her, then
looked up in disbelief to see the Bajoran major step from the underbrush. 
Kira closed the distance between them and bent to check the doctor's
condition.  Finding a strong pulse, she looked up into the stunned face of
the Romulan.
	"Come on.  We have to get him to the monastery.  He's lost a lot of
blood."
	Ali nodded.  "Thank you," she whispered as she helped Kira support
Julian.
	"He's my friend.  I couldn't see letting him get fried just because
he has rotten taste in singers."  Kira stared straight ahead and ignored
Aliera's hard glance.  "Besides, he's the only real doctor the station's
got, and it would take too damned long to replace him."
	A muffled snort of laughter came from the middle figure of the
trio at this retort, and she looked up to see pain-glazed hazel eyes
assessing her.  "Truth will out," he murmured, then fixed his eyes on his
feet and concentrated on his steps.  She stifled a grin and tightened her
grip on his waist.  Together they made their way toward the monastery. 
After a while Aliera broke the silence.
	"Will they let me in the monastery?  I tried not to inflict any
lasting harm on the priest, but I'm probably not their favorite person."
	"The 'priest' as you call him is ... a friend of mine.  I can trust
him to help."
	"What about the guards?"
	"Kira gave her a quick glance.  "We're going in through a private
entrance, into the gardens.  No one will see us who shouldn't."
	Reassured, Aliera fell silent.  After what felt like forever, they
came to the high stone wall of the monastery.  Kira led them unerringly
through a small door inset into the shadows of the wall, through a remote
part of the garden, to the back hall.  After a thorough scan to make sure
they were unobserved, she took them to the guest room she had stayed in
during her last visit.  Helping Ali settle Julian gently onto the bed, she
turned to find Bareil.  The tenderness in Aliera's touch reassured her
that Bashir would be all right in her care.  At least long enough for her
to return with the Vedek and a healer. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Julian jerked awake, disoriented and confused.  Thinking for a
moment that he was back in the swamp and reacting without waiting to find
out, he swung a fist at the blurry figure leaning over him.  Strong
fingers caught his wrist before the blow could land, and an amused voice
floated down to him.
	"Good reactions, baby -- but not very nice to the healer.  Where's
your professional courtesy?"
	"Aliera?"  Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he was aware of
the cool pressure of a regenerator pressed to his shoulder.  The lingering
traces of Chatir's death still shadowed his mind but he was able to
concentrate on his surroundings.  Aliera sat slightly to his right side,
supporting his good shoulder and lightly rubbing the arm she'd just
caught.  An older, gentle faced Bajoran man in monk's robes was just
finishing up working over him.  *Ali, your ribs.* He sent out a quick but
thorough probe to assess her condition.
	*Ever the healer* she laughed back in his mind.  *I'm fine.  Your
fierce major brought in a healer and he took care of both of us.* Aliera
squeezed his shoulder gently in reassurance and Julian relaxed against
her.
	*My major?*
	*Well, she saved your butt, and even helped me.* Her tone was sober
now.  *I'm not quite sure why.*
	*Kindred souls, perhaps.* He ignored her puzzlement over the
comment and thanked the Bajoran doctor for his care.  The monk murmured a
soft acknowledgment and gave both of them some final instructions for
their recovery.  Then gathering his equipment, he nodded to them and went
to join Vedek Bareil.  As they began a low-voiced conversation, Kira
detached herself from them and came across the room to stand by the bed.
	*You find the most interesting friends, Bashir.  Wonder what Garak
would make of her.* Aloud, Kira asked, "So, doctor, how are you feeling?"
	Neither Julian nor Aliera gave a visible reaction to Kira's
thought, but Ali shook with silent laughter for a moment.  *Behave, Ali!*
Julian thought fiercely at her, and she subsided.
	"I'm fine, Kira, thanks to your quick action."
	"I thought you passed out?"  Kira cocked a quizzical eyebrow at
him.
	"Not until after you shot Chatir."
	*Julian?  Doesn't the Bajoran know?*
	*No, Ali, none of them do.  They think I'm as mind blind as a
stone.*
	"I wish to thank you, Major Kira, for saving my life."  Aliera's
words were formal but her voice was warm.  Kira looked at her for a long
moment, then inclined her head.
	"Actually, I was saving Bashir's.  Yours was incidental."
	*Ouch!  Put you in *your* place!*
	*Oh, shut up, healer.*
	Kira was startled by the glowing smiles they both gave her.
	"Whatever the motivation, the outcome was my survival, and I thank
you."
	"Don't make me regret it."
	"I will not."  Somber emerald eyes met intense brown, and they
struck a truce without another word being spoken.
	"Kira?"  Julian broke into their exchange.  "Would it be possible
for Aliera and I to have some time alone?  We ... really need to talk. 
Privately."
	She nodded.  "I need to talk to Vedek Bareil, too.  We may need to
do some -- damage control.  I'll be back in a little while."  Turning on
her heel she rejoined Bareil.  The Bajoran healer had left sometime during
their conversation.  Kira and the Vedek exchanged some words, too low for
the couple on the bed to hear.  Bareil looked over her shoulder at Julian. 
The doctor smiled back at him reassuringly and Bareil relaxed somewhat,
obviously still not trusting Aliera.  Threading his arm through Kira's, he
guided her through the door and closed it softly behind them.
	"Well."  Aliera shifted until she was sitting beside Julian, one
arm still loosely around his waist.  He looked at his hands lying clasped
in his lap, and consciously relaxed his fingers.  When she didn't
continue, he looked over at her face.  Her eyes were huge, more vulnerable
than he had ever seen them, and the downward curve of her mouth was
troubled.  "I don't think you'll believe my words, Healer."  Her wistful
voice caught at his heart.
	"Then don't tell me.  Show me."  He unlinked his fingers and
captured her free hand between both of his.  Snuggling into her embrace,
he opened his mind to hers.  At first, all he read was a nearly
overwhelming hesitancy, a touch of fear.  Her emotions were cloud gray,
laced with stormy black and the teal of the linen they had worn as slaves. 
Slowly images began to form.
	His own face, eyes blank, blood running over his hands, between
his fingers.  The body of the empath at his feet, lying between them. 

	
Run, Ishmir!* The sound of pounding feet, the peace keepers, coming in


response to the empath's death cry.  He backed away from her, from *it*,
stumbling, turning, running.
	Peace keepers.  Two of them.  Grabbing for her, drawing their
weapons.  No time to think, only react.  Pull the knife from the body. 
Slash, hard as she can.  Get away.  Oh, Elements, he was holding her too
tightly!  Twist, duck, thrust it home.  Keep you busy with your partner --
have to get away.
	One peace keeper now, holding the body of the other.  Sorry,
sorry, no time to regret, have to escape.  Sirens followed her flight, but
she hid.  Escaped.  Used her skills.  Used her talents.  Used her self.
	The image shifted.  One of the mining settlements, farther from
Earth, just another stop on the trade route.  Dark room, still, quiet. 
Nobody home!  Rifling through drawers, need to find a little something,
got to eat.  Slender fingers expertly lifting goods, some jewelry, a hand
phaser.  Damn!  No time to hide.  How'd he get back so soon?  Not shift
change yet!  Fire and Sky, the bastard's drunk!  Rough hands reached out
to hit at her.  *Have a little fun with the bitch thief* No!  You will
not!  Hand comes up, safety's off.  Oh, Elements.  Not on stun after all. 
Slipping through the window.  Falling into the dirt below.  Stomach
retching, mind turning, caught in a trap, always trying to escape, why is
there never any escape, oh Elements ...
	Once again the image shifted.  Later, so much later, and the
figure in the mirror wasn't so gaunt.  The clothes were cheap but flashy
enough to look good under the lights.  After the performance on stage,
another, more private performance.  Door opened.  Lush room, pricey for
Rigel IV.  Good pickings after she put the old lech to sleep for the
night.  Not bad wine, considering.  Cold hands.  How can cold hands sweat? 
Just another glass, lover.  Hmm, yes.  Just.  Like.  That.  Beddy bye. 
What have we here?  The sparkle of the real thing, no glass here.  A
snorting shuffle behind her, whirling to face him.  More hard headed than
she'd thought.  Reaching out to stop him from calling in his thugs -- she
wouldn't stand a chance -- no time to get to her weapons.  Struggle for
the wall, stupid old man, don't fight so hard, I don't want to hurt you! 
Scuffling, turning, keep him from the alarm.  Sudden shove, crumpling into
a heap, neck at such an odd angle.  Looking up to meet appalled eyes.  Air
and Water, his housekeeper.  Not going to hurt you, please don't run. 
Caught, just a light tap on the temple, tie her up, grab the gems.  Sorry,
old lech.  New life, new place.
	"You don't know your own strength."  Julian's words dissipated the
last of the images.  She nodded dismally.
	"It's not so much that I'm a killer."
	"No, you're just a lousy thief with bad timing."  Her head came up
to glare at him, and she was surprised at the sympathy in his expression. 
He leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on her lips.  "I'm sorry love. 
Inappropriate to joke about it, but I needed to lighten this up between
us."
	"It's not a joking matter."
	"No.  The killings were in self defense."
	"Does that make *you* feel any less guilty?"  Her question gave him
pause.  "After all, so was yours."
	"No," he eventually responded.  "No less guilty, for all it was the
only way to save myself.  But I feel responsible for the hell you went
through."
	"I blamed you for a very long time, Julian."  He noticed her
deliberate use of his new name and brightened.  "We're both different
people now.  And it wasn't your fault, not really.  Had we stayed as we
were, in the marketplace, neither of us would have survived."
	"You wouldn't be running."
	"No, I'd be dead.  So would you."  She tightened her hold on his
waist and pulled him closer to her side.  "I'd rather run.  It's a big
universe, lots of room."
	"Why did you risk yourself to come here?  A Federation outpost is
not the safest place for a fugitive."
	"Had to."  She rubbed her cheek briefly against his.  "I've only
ever loved one person.  And I had to confront you, see if I could set
things straight with you.  Seeing the state of your shields, you weren't
dealing with it too well either."
	"Healer, heal thyself?"
	She chuckled.  "Something like that."
	"Aliera."  He opened up his thoughts to her again.  *I really do
love you.*
	*Thank the Elements, baby, I didn't think you'd ever get around
to-*
	His kiss interrupted her thought.  Rolling her onto her back,
laughing, they tugged at each other's clothing, feeling young for the
first time in too many years.  Laughter subsided as more intense emotions
wove around them, thoughts and feelings pulling them under, tossing them
up, wrapping them in a cocoon of color and sound and sensation. 


	
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	*Surely they've had time to talk about it by now.* Kira paused
outside the guest room door, then rang the chime.  There was no answer,
and vague uneasiness intensified.  *I knew I shouldn't have left him alone
in there with her.  She's already tried to kill him twice and Dax will
have my head if anything happens to him!* Keying in the lock override, she
started forward.  Then she abruptly stopped.  No wonder there hadn't been
any answer to the chime.  The erstwhile enemies were intertwined so
tightly they resembled one creamy tan and minty white body.  Kira was
distracted by the tracks of thin white scars crossing Bashir's back,
running from his shoulders across the expanse of skin down to his hips. 
Old, deep, and from more than one beating, by the look of it.  Bright
emerald eyes, one winged brow flying upward, peered dreamily at her over a
muscular shoulder.  Kira grinned at the sight, then turned and retreated
through the door.  Re-keying the lock sequence, she decided she really
hadn't finished her conversation with Bareil. 


	
***********************************************************************



	Vedek Bareil looked up to see Doctor Bashir make his way into the
garden.  Kira noticed his hastily stifled smile and looked up to find the
source of his distraction.  Seeing Bashir hesitating in the archway, she
sighed and excused herself to Bareil.  Joining him with a sly smile, she
tried to look behind him into the corridor.  "Where's Aliera?"
	"Um."
	At this less than informative response, she gave up trying to look
behind him and looked at his face.  *My, don't we look contented!* floated
into his mind, and they both bit their lips to keep from laughing. 
Regaining control of himself, Julian gathered his scattered thoughts
enough to answer her.  "She's left."
	Somehow that didn't surprise her.  "How?"
	"Chatir's shuttle."
	"Really gone this time?  Not hiding in the swamps again?"
	He nodded, and she sighed.  "Then I guess there's not much else
for you around here."  She threw a wistful glance at the Vedek, then went
to make her good-byes.  The doctor waited patiently until she rejoined
him, stretching his newly healed shoulder and reflecting on his recent
experiences.  All of them.  He felt more settled than he had in a long
while, and more ready to face the demons of his memories than he had ever
been.
	"There's a shuttle leaving in a half hour for the station.  I've
contacted Commander Sisko and let him know where we've been."
	At his wary look, she hurried on.  "Not all the details.  Just
that we were -- helping the bounty hunter find Aliera.  And that --
they're both gone and won't be any further threat to the station or
anybody on it.  Or to Bajor."
	Bashir barely restrained himself from hugging her.  Even if she
didn't recoil from him, Vedek Bareil could still see them, and he didn't
want to cause any unnecessary complications.  He was getting strong
indications of impending romance there, and he didn't want to accidentally
mess anything up for them.  So he satisfied himself with a heartfelt,
"Thank you, Kira."
	"Explanations could get complicated."
	"Very."
	"And Sisko is a Star Fleet commander.  Bound to report ... certain
things ... if they were brought to his attention."
	"Undoubtedly."
	"It would be a moral dilemma for him."
	"Definitely."
	"And we don't want to put him in an uncomfortable position-"
	"Kira?  Least said, soonest mended."
	"What?  Where did that come from?"
	Julian grimaced.  "Old Earth saying.  What he doesn't know won't
hurt us."
	She nodded, both of them in complete agreement for once.  They
walked in silence for a few moments, then Julian continued tentatively.
	"You deserve the whole truth about all this, Kira.  I know it has
been ... confusing for you."
	She sniffed but didn't answer him.
	"I can't quite tell you yet.  One day I hope I can."  She reacted
to the pain buried in his voice, reaching out to lightly pat his arm. 
"Just not now, not yet."
	"It's your story, Julian.  When you feel like you can, or want to,
talk about it, I'm here to listen.  You know, one of these days I might
tell you something of my past, too."
	He smiled slightly.  "If you wish to, I'd be honored to listen."
	She smiled back.  "Goes both ways." 


	
***********************************************************************



	The sheer normalcy of the afternoon calmed Julian's nerves.  He
had reassured his staff that everything was under control, seen commander
Sisko and managed to survive that interview relatively intact.  Changing
into casual pants and a sweater, he relaxed in his bedroom and tried not
to think about separations.  The sound of the door chime rescued him
before his thoughts became too depressing.  Rousing himself, he met his
visitor at the door.
	Jadzia smiled warmly at him, her eyes running quickly over him as
if to assure herself that he was in one piece.  "Hi, Julian."
	"Hello."  Her company was just the distraction he needed.  "Would
you like to come in?"
	She nodded and stepped past him into the room.  The light, spicy
fragrance she wore tickled his senses as she passed.  She was also dressed
casually, in a light raw silk jumpsuit and a fuzzy angora shell.  *Cuddly. 
Warm and cuddly.* This was not his standard mental image of Dax, and it
took a moment for him to regain his equilibrium.  When he did, he noticed
that she seemed a little nervous.
	"You look lovely, Jadzia.  Are you on your way to a date?" 
Teasingly.  To his mild surprise, she answered him seriously.
	"I hope so.  Have you had dinner yet?"
	"No."  His momentary hesitation passed, and he felt very relaxed. 
"Would you like have dinner with me?"
	"That's my line."  Her eyes sparkled into his.  He didn't resist
the temptation to grin back.
	"Quark's?"
	"Actually, I was thinking of someplace a little quieter."
	"Like where?"  He ushered her back out into the corridor and moved
to walk beside her.  Underlying the warmth of their friendship he felt the
electricity of her arousal.  It matched his, and he tingled from the
mixture of anticipation and companionship.
	"There's a little place, run by a Bajoran master chef, down on the
D concourse.  I thought you might like to try it out.  Kira recommended
it."
	"Lead on," he smiled.
	"Just follow me."  She reached out and slipped her fingers through
his.  *Slow and easy.  Do it right* whispered in his mind.
	"Quiet and private sounds wonderful.  We ... need to talk.  About a
lot of things."  His soft words made her smile with relief, and she
relaxed.  It was a beginning. 

				The End


	
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