The silver nebula hung against the backdrop of space like a jewel, it’s timelessness almost palpable. The intense amount of radiation put out by the gas globule served as an effective cloak of their presence. Even if they circled around the starseed at full impulse with every system at full power, the Ghriah’s energy output would look like nothing more than a simple - and perfectly normal - minor fluctuation to whomever was scanning the star.

"Clever, Curzon," Ezri whispered under her breath.

(It’s nothing,) he said, with barely a hint of modesty. (I figured that if it worked against the Klingons, it would certainly work against a thirty-year-old Cardassian research station.)

(You’d best not say that aloud,) Lela added, rather sardonically. (Cardassians don’t take kindly to being compared to Klingons, even if it’s something as simple as their technology.)

(This one’d toss you out an airlock,) Jadzia added. (Damar hates Klingons)

Curzon tsk’ed, and had he been alive, he would have shook his head. (Poor deprived man.)

(But he doesn’t see it that way,) Jadzia said.

(But he’s a Cardassian…) Tobin replied (…and they’re awfully stubborn…)

(Er…ah…um…well…) Tobin said, flustered. (I wouldn’t put it that way…)

(Oh, stop teasing him, Curzon,) Jadzia said in a mock-scolding tone.

(I am not teasing,) Curzon replied, sounding hurt.

Ezri smiled, and let their minor argument join the soft background noises. Damar was sitting in the command chair, hunched over a padd and scowling furiously.

She stepped up beside him and glanced at the padd, curious as to what was bothering him, but it’s contents were in Kardasi, and she could only a few words – not enough to decipher anything more complicated than the station’s controls. And anyway, he was scanning it to fast for Tobin to read it – he was the only one of Dax’s former hosts who was fluent in Kardasi. "What is it?" she asked, impatient after a few moments of waiting.

Damar’s features tightened into a sneer. "I…I’m not sure." He tapped at the padd’s screen and the closed the document he had been reading. "It could be nothing, but I’m not willing to take that chance."

He sighed, a long, low, ragged sound, and turned to Ezri, his features softening. She was struck at how he changed, how he almost became handsome. "Since we’ve gotten her, eight people have beamed from the station to Bajor, and three of them have returned within the last hour. I only knew what Dukat was up to – or even if he’s there." He looked at her sharply, eyes narrowing. "Are you sure they can’t detect us?"

Ezri nodded once, and swallowed, anxiety and nervousness bubbling in her gust.

(If it makes you feel any better, he’s just as scared as you are,) Curzon said quietly. (But he’s just hiding it better.)

(And it’s not you he’s afraid of,) Audrid added. (I think it’s Dukat he fears.)

(I don’t blame him,) Jadzia said bitterly. (He’s insane.)

(We know, Jadzia, we know,) Audrid soothed.

(She’s right,) interjected Emony. (But it’s not the madness per se Damar is afraid of, it’s the unpredictability that’s really worrying him.)

Yeah…Ezri thought. The old Dukat he knew; this one he doesn’t. Like you said, he’s become unpredictable.

(It could be…) Torias said, (it could be that’s why he brought you along. Dukat doesn’t know you. You’re Damar’s wild card.)

"I don’t like the sound of that…" Ezri said.

Damar’s head shot up. "What?"

"I…It’s just…I mean…What if they’re evacuating? What if we were wrong about their sensor capabilities and they are registering us. What…what if the people there have decided to run…"

"Dukat wouldn’t run," Damar snapped.

"What if Dukat isn’t there?"

"I know he’s there!" he shouted.

Ezri stumbled a step back and stared at him, wide-eyed. "H-how…how d’you know?"

Damar slammed his fist into the armrest and stood. "He told me," Damar whispered, so faintly Ezri had to strain her ears to hear him. "He sent me a message, months ago, that he had found a purpose, a cause, and he was starting a community on Empok Nor...He asked me to join him!"

And, suddenly, it all made sense.

Ezri knew then and there that Damar hadn’t brought her along to be his wild card, but to be his insurance, his protection to make sure he wasn’t swayed to Dukat’s side.

(I bet,) Lela said, (I just bet that it’s only for your age. He probably figured that since you’re – we’re – over three hundred years old, we would be enough of a mature influence to ground his behaviour…)

Too bad he doesn’t know any better, Ezri thought bitterly.

(I think it’s sad,) Emony said wistfully. (That poor, sweet man…)

(I think he’s pathetic,) Joran grumbled.

Ezri froze. No. No, he’s not. If he were ‘pathetic’, he would have run to join Dukat when the offer was made. He didn’t. He only came when he had no choice: Weyoun and those poor kids. And he was smart enough to bring me along, knowing I’ll help him and scare Dukat. That’s not the behavior of a ‘pathetic’ man.

(That’s what I meant,) Emony interjected. (It’s ‘make you want to cry’ sad.)

Ezri wiped at her eyes and looked at Damar. He had moved from the command chair to a console at the far end of the bridge.

"He’s being selfish, Emony," Ezri muttered under her breath.

I’m not, Ezri shot back.

There was an awkward silence. None of the chorus truly wanted to dwell on Ezri’s self-sacrifice. Her loss was still fresh, and the wound barely healed over; every time the subject was brought up, she would get upset and rant at near-hysteria about the injustice of it all…or she would become sullen and remote, unwillingly severing the symbiont’s link with the outside world.

(We know you are,) Curzon said, (but most people think of their own needs before those of others – thus making you an exception to the rule.)

(He explained it earlier,) Audrid said simply.

"What?" Ezri spat.

Damar’s head shot up. "What ‘what’?"

Flustered, she began to improvise. "I…ah…thought you said something. Guess I’m hearing things."

He nodded slowly, his hooded eyes belying his skepticism.

(Why don’t you just say you were arguing with us?) Lela said, her voice thin and sharp.

(Oh, that’s brilliant,) Joran shot back. (Just what he wants to know: the person he’s entrusting to keep him from succumbing to Dukat’s…influences hears voices in her head.)

Audrid sighed loudly. (But for a Trill, that’s normal.)

(What are you willing to wager he doesn’t know that? Why, it was only a few years ago that the Symbiosis Commission gave basic, biological information about the symbiont and the joining process to off-worlders. Before that, no one even knew we sliced open our best and our brightest to put a worm in them…) He paused for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts, (…and if memory serves correctly, Aud, it was yours the deciding vote that banned outsiders from even knowing about the joining. )

(We changed our policies,) she said tersely, (the fiasco with Odan convinced the Commission to revise that ban and allow aliens to understand the basics of joining…)

(My point was,) Joran interrupted, (was that considering the information has only been available for a scant few years, what makes you think Damar has read it?)

To that, Audrid was silent.

"Damar?" Ezri said. He glanced up, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Be quiet! She thought sharply.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Ah, where’s the mess hall?"

A sigh of relief rose up from half the chorus, and the other half simply groaned in protest.

"Two levels down. It’s the only thing on the deck aside from the sickbay. You won’t miss it."

She flashed him a cheery smile as thanks and left the bridge. A nearby turbolift took her down to deck 3. She looked around and found her way easily; Damar’s directions had been right on.

One glance around the mess hall and Ezri nearly had to stifle a laugh. "Oh, poor Damar," she said, chortling. "This…is too funny," and she laughed. "They do have more in common than anyone thought."…For the mess hall of the Ghriah bore an eerie resemblance to the one on the Rotarran.

"When was the last time I was ion that ugly ship?" Ezri said, cheerfully

(Never,) Joran replied, just as pleasantly. (You were never on the Rotarran; Jadzia was.

(Silence!) Audrid snarled, her voice cold and sharp. (Do not mock what you don’t understand – or respect. You yourself rejoiced mightily when you began to remember our experiences as your own…)

(Yes,) Joran said cheekily. (But I wanted to be joined with Dax. Ezri didn’t. She’s been preventing our personalities from properly melding together. She’s been doing all she could to pretend the joining never happened. And now that our memories are appearing as her own, it means she’s either faltering – which I can’t believe – or that she’s going mad!)

"I am not insane," Ezri said as she stepped up to the bank of replicators set into the back wall.

"Thank you, Curzon. A cup of coffee and a Thyfferan pastry," she added to the machine.

(Do you like Damar?) Jadzia said, out of the blue.

"Jadzia. You’re acting strange. Again."

(But…you do think he’s handsome?) she pressed on.

"Where is this coming from?" Ezri snapped, helplessly waving her pastry and coffee in the air.

"Why is it whenever a new man you always try to get me into bed with him? In case you might not have noticed, I don’t need a man to make me happy."

(Ezri’s right,) Curzon affirmed. (Let’s set her up with Colonel Kira, then.)

Ezri groaned as she sat, slamming her plate and coffee on the table. Liquid sloshed out of the cup on to the tabletop and on to her pastry

"I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m not interested in Kira. She’s a good friend, but I don’t want it to go any further than that."

"I do like her, Curzon, I just don’t like her that way."

"Curzon, just because you want to sleep with her doesn’t mean I want to."

He grunted and went silent. After a few moments, the silence spread to the others. Ezri took the opportunity to eat her pastry, soggy and coffee stained as it was. When she finished, Audrid spoke up:

"Jus because you live in my head doesn’t mean you’re privy to every detail about my – non-existent – sex life."

Ezri sighed loudly. "Fine. You want the truth? I think she’s too, well…masculine."

(WHAT?!) Half the chorus bellowed

Lela, the first to regain her composure, began to sputter. (Masculine?! Wha-what makes you think Kira is masculine?)

"Well, you know, there’s her whole take-charge attitude, she has no figure…and the hair…"

(Oh, you should talk,) Torias snapped.

"I know I shouldn’t complain about that, but…well, I’ve never found her to be that pretty."

Ezri yawned and waved her arms in the air. "Stop, please, all of you!"

The chorus fell silent, and she continued.

"Look, it’s late, I’m tire and verging on the incoherent, and all of you are starting to get really testy. Can we please call it a night and never have this discussion ever again?"

They were silent, but not because they were disagreeing with her. Rather, it was the silence Ezri considered to be ‘downtime’. She smiled in the darkness and set off to deck four, where she found corridors upon corridors of empty quarters, ready to be inhabited by a sleeping body.

Ezri collapsed into bed in the suite at the center of the deck, drifting into sleep as her head hit the pillow

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Damar scowled as the results scrolled on the main viewscreen, his worst fears visible in white on black.

It wasn’t possible…it couldn’t be…and yet it was.

Dax’s plan had been brilliant in its simplicity: hide in plain sight. They had dropped out of warp behind the nebula relative to Empok Nor, using it’s mass to conceal the distortions caused by the warp field. The ship had dove into the nebula, and used it’s energy to hide it’s own.

But their plan had a pyrric side effect.

In exchange for hiding themselves from anyone outside the nebula, the Ghriah’s sensors were unable to detect anything outside the nebula. What little information that did manage come through was heavily distorted by the radiation and the grav-field of the star-seed.

Were it not for the Dominion’s ansible-based communications technology, they would be completely blind and deaf to the outside universe.

But Damar needed more information than transporter logs and data streams from the news-nets could provide. No matter how he reconfigured the Ghriah’s sensors, he could not manage to reduce even half of the interference. He knew he should ask Dax – with eight lifetimes of knowledge, she would certainly know something about this sort of phenomenon – but he needed to remind himself that Ezri wasn’t Jadzia, and no matter what he did, she wouldn’t become Jadzia.

"Bygones," he said aloud, a forced smile on his lips.

There was a solution to his problems, but it was risky. If he timed it right, he just might pull it off…

If not, well, he was certainly doomed. No matter what Dukat might have said, Damar knew the other man would want to exact revenge for his daughter’s death. If their roles had been reversed, Damar would have felt the same.

And as for Dax…

Damar’s fists clenched at his sides and he forced it from his mind. No…

If it cost his own life to preserve hers, then so be it.

«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»

Back in her appropriated quarters, Ezri tossed and turned in bed, her sleep haunted by dreams.

Ezri shot out of bed, her heart hammering in her chest as the door slid open and Damar stepped inside.

He looked at her, his expression solemn.

"What's wrong?" she asked, as she forced her tire limbs into a seated position.

He smiled softly, faintly, and said, "I have a plan."

She grinned at him. "So give. What is it?"

He sat down on the bed beside, and began to describe it in rather sketchy details. Ezri felt her slight ebullition dissipate like a wisp of smoke. "A probe?!" she exclaimed in spite of herself. "If Dukat detects it, we'll be dead."

"Not if we time it correctly, Dax," he corrected.

She shuddered involuntarily, and at his inquisitive gaze, explained. "Please, just don't call me that."

"Isn't it your name?"

"My name is Ezri…or, or if that won't do, you could call me by my rank…"

He raised his eye ridges in surprise. "I hope you realize what it means to tell someone your given name."

A fragment of a memory - Jadzia's - overwhelmed her for a moment. "Jadzia, she told you her name…"

"But she was a scientist. It's not the same."

She swallowed once, and nodded, inexplicably nervous. "If it makes you feel better, you can call me 'Lieutenant'."

He nodded once, almost imperceptibly. "Very well. We can share names at a more appropriate time."

Ezri smiled, content that disaster had been averted. "We should go to the bridge, right?" she asked. "And get everything ready…"

Damar tilted his head towards the door, and followed her out.

«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»

Ezri sat at the central forward console on the Ghriah's bridge, and watched as Damar reconfigured a probe at another station. His features were bathed in the soft light from the console, and it struck her that Jadzia had been right earlier. He wasn't handsome, by any definition of the word, but he was…attractive, and looking at him made her heart warm.

(I read somewhere,) Emony said, out of the blue, (that interspecies relationships happen because, by a million-to-one genetic fluke, two people happen to find the other's pheromones 'nice smelling'.)

(So I married Worf because he tickled my nostrils the right way?) Jadzia said with a laugh.

You knew him. It was not a question.

Ezri hugged herself. "Yeah…yeah, I guess you're right."

Curzon just snorted.

She walked up behind Damar, and stopped when she was within arm's reach. She poked him, and pulled back her arm when he looked up.

"Damar?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I…ah, there's something I have to tell you…" His brow furrowed, but he didn’t say anything, so she continued. "You know I’m Ezri Dax, that I was once Jadzia – well, Dax was, but since I’m Dax, then, yeah, I was Jadzia – anyway, you know when she…died, they took Dax out of her and eventually but it into me. But, well, I wasn’t ready, and hadn’t had any training, and so when I got dax, things didn’t go as planned, so I kind of have a tendency to talk to myself." She raised her hands to quell whatever protests he might have. "I’m basically normal, except the symbiont and I have a…dialogue, instead of working in…parallel."

He looked at her, and nodded slowly. "I’m afraid I don’t understand."

"That’s okay," she shrugged, "neither do I."

He scowled. "What?"

"It’s…um…a joke."

"Oh," he said, and smiled.

Ezri felt her heart melt. She would have swooned had the symbiont’s self-control not taken over at the instant. He wasn’t handsome, not really, nor gorgeous in any way, but when he smiled, his feature rearranged themselves into something that would have gotten him a statue erected in his honor on Trill.

(Now you see why I slept with him,) Jadzia said, with a slightly pleased tone of voice.

(Don’t worry, Ezri,) Tobin said, (if you want to sleep with Damar, we can show you all about Cardassian sex.)

(Mmm, of course Tobin would know how to please a Cardassian properly,) Curzon interjected softly, "(he did know Iloja of Prim.)

(You should talk, Curzon,) Torias grumbled, (what about all the Cardassian nubiles you’ve had over the years?)

First Joined, Ezri groaned. She took a few steps away from Damar, and hissed, "I don’t want to sleep with him right now. And I won’t if you continue like this. What if one of you says something like that out loud! I need to be able to work with the man. I can’t do that if he thinks I’m a sex maniac!"

(First Joined yourself, Ez!) Curzon shot back. (Jadzia had the same problem,) he continued, in a lighter tone.

He sighed. (You Starfleet types are all so duty-oriented, you do9n’t seem to be able to enjoy yourselves. Do you lose your sex drive when you put on that uniform?)

"Curzon!"

Damar’s head shot up, and he stared at her, a puzzled – and adorable – look on his face. "Did you say something, Lieutenant?"

"It’s…it’s nothing. I’m just arguing with my symbiont."

"Ah," he nodded. "Does this happen very often?"

"Constantly. Dax disagrees with everything, from how I dress myself to what I have for breakfast to what…position I take before I go to sleep."

(Do not,) the chorus interrupted.

"So do you hear voices?"

She shook her head sharply. "No…well, sometimes, but, usually, when the symbiont disagrees with what I’m doing, I’ll find myself doing things I wouldn’t normally do. Like I’ll order raktajino – which I hate, but Curzon and Jadzia drink as if it kept them alive – first thing when I come into Ops. It’s really weird."

"And disconcerting, I can imagine."

"You wouldn’t believe. It’s worse if one of the symbiont’s former hosts – Lela, Tobin, Emony, Curzon, Torias, Audrid, Joran Jadzia, and there’s Verad who had Dax for about a day five years ago, he pops in sometimes too – it’s wore if they disagree with me. Because they all gang up on me, or they never shut up."

"I wouldn’t know."

"Actually, you might," she said after a moment. At the startled expression on his face, she continued. "You’re married, right?"

He nodded.

"So you have in-laws."

He shook his head, but there was no denial behind the gestures.

"Well, imagine all of them inside your head, complaining, bickering…just being themselves and driving you insane in the process."

"So you consider yourself insane?"

She shook her head and laughed weakly. "I’m not insane. I know I’m not. I have a certificate to prove it. Besides, I can’t be insane. I’m the only counselor – well, assistant counselor – on DS9." She laughed again. "’Sides, compared to them, anyone’s sane."

He dipped his head and smiled again. (Don’t swoon,) Curzon commanded. (If you don’t want him to think you’re a nymphomaniac, you shouldn’t act like on!)

"Curzon!" she hissed, flashing Damar a quick smile after the word passed her lips.

"What did Curzon want?"

"Oh, he just said that I should’ve rephrased that to say that compared to me, anyone’s sane," she lied.

"I assume he meant that as a joke."

"Yeah, well, Curzon was dropped on his head when he was a child. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, and what he does have isn’t very funny."

Gotcha! she thought. That was for introducing me as you when I last saw mother!

"Lieutenant."

She looked up at him, her argument with Curzon forgotten. "Yes?"

"I thought you might like to know. I’m launching the probe."

Ezri strode up beside him, and looked down at his console, trying to restrain the urge to lean against him. So close to him, she understood what Emony had been talking about. She could smell him, and it was glorious.

She could hear him talking, as if at a great distance, his voice tinny and faint, but all Ezri could notice was him. His scent, his small smile, and his proximity were all that she cared about, all that seemed important to her.

"Whuh?"

Damar frowned. "I said, Lieutenant, that I had slaved transporter control to my console, so that I would be able to beam Dukat over here as soon as we picked him up on the probe’s sensors. Weren’t you listening?"

"I…no, I’m sorry. The symbiont…"

His eyes narrowed, but he seemed to accept that.

(Ezri. I find it admirable that you care for Damar, but you shouldn’t let it interfere with your duties,) Lela said.

"Damar?"

He sighed loudly, and without turning around, said, "yes, Lieutenant?"

"Is there anything I can do to help? I mean, not me me, but me Dax, because my – Dax’s former hosts know lots of stuff. They’ve probably even done this before." If I had any idea what you are doing.

He jerked his head at the seat beside him. "Sit down, please."

She sat and turned to face him, trying to keep the eagerness off her face, and almost succeeding.

Damar pointed at a dark screen above them. "That is the data feed from the probe."

She furrowed her brow. "I can’t see anything."

"That’s because the probe hasn’t received the activation signal yet. Until then, it’s basically as remarkable as any other piece of space debris."

"I thought he sensors couldn’t pick up anything outside the nebula. How are we going to receive telemetry data from the probe, let alone send it the activation signal?"

"The same way we found out how many people were being transported off and on Empok Nor: The Dominion com network. We send a signal to the nearest transceiver platform and it will reroute it to the probe. The probe will do the reverse to send us the data."

She nodded. "Smart."

"It’ll then scan for all Cardassian life signs, so I can beam then here."

"When do we start?"

"Now," he said, and jabbed at a sensitive area on his console. The once-dark screen blinked on to display the schematics of Empok Nor, with a small dot moving around the area that would have been the Promenade on DS9.

"Him?"

"Yes."

Damar manipulated the controls again, and Ezri watched him, startling herself with the intensity of the emotions he stirred within her simply at the sight of his profile bathed in the ever shifting light from the console display. It was silly, she reminded herself, to feel so…like a giddy schoolgirl, as Lela so aptly put it, about a man she barely even new.

She could feel the small, clinical part of her mind, left over from her days as a sane counselor, begin to warm up and spit out psychobabble about recent losses and emotional bonding to anyone who would let her – and Damar certainly did. No matter what Jadzia had said, Ezri simply didn’t believe her. The depth of feeling – the caring – that Damar seemed to have for her (Dax) – even to the point of trading names! – was much more than the result of a single fling.

Ezri was young, but she did have the symbiont’s full store of memory available when she was willing to do a little prodding, and she had her own experience to back her up. There had been more…

But Jadzia didn’t seem willing to talk, and neither did Damar…

Ezri sighed. Oh, well.

She looked at the display, and noticed that the dot representing Dukat was still there, moving around the Promenade.

"Damar?"

He grunted, which she took as a confirmation, and continued. "Why haven’t you transported Dukat?"

He looked at her, a long-suffering expression stretched across his features. "Didn’t you listen to me, Ez- Lieutenant? I said I slaved the transporters to the sensors. I don’t have them working in parallel."

"…And if Dukat moves after the sensor buffer send the information to the transporters, we’ll lose a goodly chunk of him," she finished, feeling slightly nauseated. "So you beam him over when he comes to a halt?"

"Actually, when he’s at rest with the station."

Ezri leaned closed, until she was only centimeters from his shoulder, until she could reach out and lay her hand flat, palm down, on the back of his neck, or stroke his inner arm…

"There!"

And suddenly, she saw a reddy-orange shimmer out of the corner of her eye. Ezri turned around, and watched, fear swelling through her, as Dukat and a group of Bajorans materialized on the Ghriah’s bridge.

Dukat took a step forward, as Ezri and Damar rose as one. He smirked at the pair of them, the arrogance in his expression dampened by…something.

"Do you truly think we would be unaware of any and all attempts to violate the sanctity of our most holy place? You’re going to be made to pay for your arrogance, Damar." He looked at Ezri but didn’t seem to recognize her; for that she let out a silent sigh of relief.

But it was soon seared away only moments later.

It enfolded as a series of images – etched I her memory for all eternity – that flashed by in quick succession

Damar pulled his weapon from its holster and took a step towards Dukat.

Dukat raise his arm, pointing a small blaster at them, and Jadzia began to scream, a low keening sound that made Ezri’s knees weak with fear.

The universe was suddenly stained red…

Then everything went dark.

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II

I won’t let you die.

--Unit 02 to Soryu Asuka Langley, End of Evangelion

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Ezri came to in a small, dark room, lying on her side, her arms and legs manacled behind her. She held her breath for a moment, straining her ears for all sounds around her, but save for the familiar low thrum of the fusion reactor buried decks below, she was alone.

Damar was gone.

Dukat. It must be Dukat who had him.

Her head began to spin, the cell whirling around her like a centrifuge. She forced down her mounting nausea and tried to think rationally.

If she was here, alive, then surely Damar mustn’t be dead. If that was all Dukat had wanted, she wouldn’t be here…

It struck her, suddenly, with the force and intensity of a blow to the head. She was utterly alone.

For the first time in nearly five months, she was utterly alone in her skull.

It was the stun shot.

Her mind raced at a near-hysterical intensity as she sought to make sense of this…unwanted miracle.

The stun must have knocked out the symbiont longer.

It wasn’t what she had expected, what she had hoped for for so many months: She was alone.

No sarcastic comments, no motherly voice, no Audrid and Curzon trading recipes in the background. It was horrible. She missed Dax, and that made it all the worse. No wonder joinings were permanent. Even if they could be reversed, Ezri didn’t think anyone would want to. Living with a group of mad, happy voices inside one’s head for only a few days, and even the most rugged individualist would have trouble going back to being a mono-mind.

Dax would return, eventually, but until then she didn’t know how to deal with it…

(Don’t,) Lela said, her voice weak and low.

"Dax!" Ezri cried, hot tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I…I thought you were gone!"

(We were,) she replied. (And they still are. It’s just the two of us, my dear.)

Ezri sniffled and laughed weakly. "At least there’s still you."

"I was so afraid," she blurted out after a long moment, "and I don’t even know why."

(It’s all right, Ezri,) Lela replied. (I understand.)

"It’s just…I felt awful when I realized I was alone…"

"Thank the First Joined for that."

"Whuh?…Lela, what are you talking about?"

"Oh. I…I never realized that.)

(Most don’t,) Lela said.

"Where are the others?"

Ezri nodded. "They have Damar."

"I…Yeah." After a moment, "do you think they can hear us?"

"I…I…Lela, what do you think they’ll…they’re doing to Damar?"

(Don’t even think about him!) Lela commanded, her voice so intense it nearly made Ezri jump. (You want to escape, you need to keep your hopes up. Concentrate only on yourself.)

Hundreds of images of Damar being tortured by hoards of mad Dukats flashed through her mind, but she forced them away.

(Good,) Lela said, her tone softening. (Now first things first, we need to free you from your bonds.)

She began to twist her hands, curling her fingers up to touch the cuffs themselves. They were cold, metal, and slightly oversized for someone as small as she. "I think they’re Cardassian standard issue. Or maybe Bajoran."

"Lela," Ezri asked suddenly, "how do you know stuff like that?"

"Wow. Lela, I…I had no clue!"

"Yeah," Ezri said simply.

Ezri grinned. It was one of the few times her size would turn out to be an advantage. "There’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere…"

Lela sighed. (If they’re Bajoran, you don’t have a chance.)

"Great. So how do I tell the difference?"

Ezri curled her hands, her tendons tightening, as her finger slid across the smooth metal of the cuffs. "Lela, they’re…"

"What?"

(Jad…Jadzia might know…) Torias said shakily.

"Know what?"

(Or Curzon,) said another voice, almost unrecognizable. It took Ezri a moment to realize it was Emony.

"Are you alright?" she blurted.

(She…she isn’t the only one,) Tobin stuttered, his soft voice almost inaudible.

(I’d rather not go through that again,) Curzon said. (Next time someone shoots at you, Ezri, step out of the way.)

The others chimed in their agreement, but what concerned Ezri were the three missing voices: Jadzia, Joran, and Audrid.

It was likely Audrid was still unconscious, because since she had been married to a soldier when she was alive, she had had a fair knowledge of escape tactics.

Ezri didn’t care, one way or another, what had happened to Joran. The less he spoke, the better.

And as for Jadzia…

(I…) It was Jadzia, almost as if by magic, her normally calm voice unsteady.

She paused for a long moment, and then began anew. (I…I…remember!)

"What?"

(What do you remember, Jadzia?) Curzon said, interrupting Ezri.

The universe seemed to tear as Ezri was forced into one of Jadzia’s memories.

And the memory folded back in on itself, like a flower.

(This is too easy,) Curzon grumbled.

Ezri chewed her lower lip. "Yeah…but Jadzia is – was – much stronger than I am. That must have been why Kira suggested it to her instead of doing it herself. She might not have been strong enough to…"

(This was the Jaro incident?) Lela asked.

"I think so…Kira mentioned that word."

(That’s putting it mildly,) Curzon said.

"I only wished Nerys had said how hard you had to hit the cuffs in order to break them…"

"Yes, but for whom? Kira? Jadzia? A Klingon?"

(Why don’t you stop talking, and try!) It was Joran. Awake.

"Okay, fine," Ezri said, and brought the handcuffs down onto the floor – hard - and felt rather than heard the jarring clang of metal against metal. But the handcuffs didn’t break, or snap open.

Ezri gritted her teeth, ignored the dull ache in her hands, and drove then against the floor so fast she heard the air whistle.

The clang was louder this time, and her hands flared with red-hot pain. She bit her lower lip until she felt blood spurt in her mouth as she forced down a scream.

(Again,) Lela whispered.

Again Ezri drove her handcuffs against the floor, again nothing happened, and a gain she tried to suppress a scream. This time, the pain was too great, and she cried out for a second before clamping her mouth shut.

This…isn’t working, she thought, forming the words carefully.

(We know,) Lela started, her voice testy, when a door Ezri hadn’t even known was there slid open in front of her. The light nearly blinded her, but she did manage to make out a dark shape in the doorway.

Ezri’s mind, in a red haze of pain, flashed back to the incident that had dragged her into this whole mess. "Damar?" she croaked feebly.

"Stop that racket!" a voice bellowed at her. It was female, and Bajoran, but so scratchy and hoarse, Ezri couldn’t tell the age of it’s owner. "Stop that, or I’ll stun you good this time!"

Ezri blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light, but didn’t speak a word. The woman came into focus. She was nearing middle age, with long, stringy red hair and rheumy green eyes. She glared at Ezri, spun around, and stalked out, the door sliding shut behind her.

(Not only chained and blind, but guarded as well,) Joran said, his voice flowing like liquid honey. (Dukat must really fear you.)

"There’s no need to guard me. He has to have another reason."

(No…) Tobin said. (That’s…that’s not true…)

(I knew a good Cardassian,) Tobin said. (And…and I know there are…many more. Dukat…he’s just one man. You can’t judge them all on his behavior.)

(How would you feel, Joran, if we held Ezri up as a shinning standard of Trill behavior?) Audrid asked suddenly.

"I resent being compared to him!"

"Shut up, Joran," Ezri snarled, so furious she could say nothing else.

Joran didn’t make a sound, but Ezri didn’t feel his voice retreating from the chorus. "Oh, thank the First Joined," she said with a sigh of relief.

"I…I don’t know. All…all I can feel are my hands throbbing…"

She closed her sore, swollen eyes and rested her cheek against the cool metal floor. She focused on the pain in her hands, that seemed to throb rhythmically, in time with her own heartbeat, radiating inwards from the surface of her skin, heating the interior of her flesh and thrumming up her bones like a message sent as drumbeats. Her joints tensed and her tendons ached.

Ezri moaned softly and choked back a sob.

The only purpose of that semi-argument was to get her angry enough so that she couldn’t notice the pain…but now that she knew about it, it was like having a spider hanging above your bed: once you know it’s there, there is no way of ignoring it, unless it goes away.

(I…Ezri, I have a plan,) Lela said, her voice cautious.

Ezri tried not to cry as she spoke. "The last time someone told me that, I ended up getting phasered and imprisoned."

"How?"

"Something about if I do it again, she’ll hurt me?"

"You…you can’t…Lela, you don’t want me to…"

"Oh, First Joined. Lela, it didn’t work the first three times…"

"What?"

"But Kira just said to thwack them against something hard. She never said where to hit them."

"It’ll hurt, Lela. My hands hurt so much already…"

"The ugly guard’ll stun me. I know."

"That’s not a very long time, Lela."

"That’s not fair, Lela."

"I…"

"Bitch."

"I…I want to help him, but I don’t want to get hurt!" she sobbed.

"I’ll hold you to that."

NEXT

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