“You also can’t qualifylife, Julian,” she told him. “You can’t say that it’s better to save Ezri Dax than it is to save even one Vahni Vahltupali.”
Julian leaned forward, putting his hands on the desk, his fingers splayed. “I can say that. It’s better for me.”
Ezri saw the love and the pain in his eyes. She understood what she was asking him to face, but she also knew that it was the right thing to do. “It would be better for me too not to try this,” she said. “I don’t want to die. That’s why I need you, to make sure that I don’t.”
Julian grunted and pushed himself away from the desk, again retreating across the room. “You don’t want to die?” he asked, and Ezri was surprised to hear skepticism in his voice.
“No,” she said, not knowing why Julian would even ask such a question. “Of course not.”
He looked at her anxiously, then looked away. She could see him holding something back from her.
“What is it?” she asked. Julian looked over at Sam, and Ezri gathered that he did not want to reveal what was on his mind in front of the lieutenant. “It’s all right, Doctor,” she said, emphasizing to him that this conversation, this disagreement, was wholly professional, and that it would not divide them personally. “You can speak your mind.”
“I am concerned, Lieutenant,” Julian said haltingly, “that your fervor to put yourself in harm’s way may be an overcompensation for the loss of Ensign Roness.”
Ezri felt momentarily stunned at the statement—at what sounded very much to her like a betrayal. Since returning to duty after Gerda had died, Ezri had performed her duties skillfully and without agonizing over the loss of a crewperson under her command. Off duty, though, in her quarters—in the quarters she shared with Julian—she had suffered. Continued to suffer. And Julian knew that.
She opened her mouth to respond, but Bowers spoke first. “Pardon me, Doctor,” he said, “but I don’t see any ‘fervor’ here. I just think the lieutenant has an understandable desire to do what she can to try to save the Vahni.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said to Bowers. She studied Julian for a moment and saw the pain still in his eyes—pain at the trauma she had undergone yesterday. “I’m not eager to do this because of the risk involved,” she said. “But you’re right to question me about that, Doctor, because you know how much the death of Ensign Roness has affected me on a personal level.” Ezri suffered the loss because Gerda had been a young officer with a long life and career ahead of her. And because Gerda had been her friend. And yes, because it had been Ezri’s orders that had sent the young woman to her death. Ezri had cried in Julian’s arms about it more than once, and he too had been emotionally affected by what had happened, perhaps even more so than she had. But even with all of that, Ezri had managed to find solace, and the strength to perform her duty, from her belief that she had made the right choices, given the right orders. Ezri would bring Gerda back to life in an instant if she could, but the two of them had saved tens of thousands of Vahni lives. Now Ezri wanted to save billions.
“I’m sorry,” Julian said. “I’m not questioning your ability to command…I just…”
“You don’t have to explain,” Ezri told him. “I understand.” She stood up. “But you’re wrong about my motivations. I was a counselor, and I know what’s going on inside of me. This has nothing to do with Gerda. This has to do with saving a lot of people, and me believing I may be able to help accomplish that.”
“But the risk…” he said.
“There’s risk in everything we do. But I believe that a direct, planned contact with the object—” She pointed to the display, to the image of the gray mass, without looking away from Julian. “—might allow Dax to communicate with whatever intelligence is behind it, and possibly find some means of stopping the pulse. And I believe that you’ll be able to keep me alive while I try. In my judgment, it’s a risk worth taking.”
Julian gazed at her and said nothing.
“Sam,” Ezri said, “what do you think?”
Bowers stood from his chair. He looked from Ezri to Julian. “I don’t like it,” he said. “It’s dangerous, and I have no idea how to measure the chances of success.” He turned back to Ezri. “But under the circumstances, I also think it’s a risk we should take.”
Ezri nodded to Bowers, then regarded Julian. He looked at her for a long time. Finally, he lifted his hands up at his sides, then let them clap back down against his body. “All right,” he said.
46
Something’s going on,Quark thought as he marched along the Promenade toward the bar. Kira in a dress uniform, Alonis and Trill coming to the station and attending an event with an Andorian and a Capellan—one of the only Andorians on DS9 being a Federation ambassador, and the only Capellan, a Starfleet admiral. This would be more than a “gathering,” as Kira had called it. Something was definitely happening, and Quark wanted to know about it.
He strode along, darting left and right through the midday crowd, anxiously rapping the padd in his hand against the side of his leg. He dashed past the bar without even glancing inside, heading instead for the security office. Laren would know about whatever was going on, and she would tell him.
If she’ll even talk to me now,he thought.
The doors to the office parted before Quark. He began speaking as soon as he stepped inside. “Laren, I just came from—” He stopped at the sight of the person standing behind the desk. She turned from peering at one of the security displays just as the office doors clicked closed.
“Can I help you, Quark?” Sergeant Etana asked.
“No,” he said, drumming his fingers against the padd. “No, I…where’s Lieutenant Ro?”
Etana looked left and right, then back at Quark. “Not here,” she said. The expression on her face suggested that she thought Quark had asked an improper question.
“I can see that,” he said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “Can you tell me where she is?”
“She’s working on a security issue,” Etana said evasively.
I’m sure she is,Quark thought. He realized that this gathering tonight must be why Laren had been working such long hours the past few days. He spun on his heel and, without saying anything more to Etana, bolted out of the office.
Quark sped across the busy Promenade toward the bar. He had to find Laren as soon as possible. And not just about the gathering,he thought, recognizing the other cause for his sense of urgency: he had flirted with Treir in front of Laren. What had he been thinking? After he and Laren had spent such a wonderful few hours together last night, walking through the dark, quiet station, talking and laughing. “Idiocy must run in my family,” he muttered as he entered Quark’s.
He quickly slipped behind the bar, headed for the companel at the far end. He skirted by Treir, who was busy serving a customer. “Hey,” she said, “how did it go with Colonel Kira?”
Quark ignored her, dropping his padd on a shelf with a clatter. He ducked down below the companel and worked to unlock a compartment there. As he did, Treir came over and bent down beside him. “Is everything all right?” she asked. “Didn’t she approve the menu?”
“Yes, yes she did,” Quark said hurriedly, not wanting to be distracted. He reached up to the shelf and pulled the padd from it. “Here,” he said, handing it to Treir. “Can you take care of this?”
Treir took the padd and examined it. “Um, sure,” she said, “but if I’m working on the catering, then who’s going to run the bar?”
Quark looked at her, but he had to replay in his head what she had just said. “You stay in charge of the bar,” he told her. “Find Broik and have him work on the catering.” He turned back to the compartment.