Path: tivoli.tivoli.com!geraldo.cc.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!news2.near.net!delphi.bc.edu!NewsWatcher!user From: TecceAn@cleo.bc.edu (Anthony Tecce) Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: REPOST FOR WANG: Julia pt.1 Date: Wed, 01 Feb 1995 08:50:00 -0500 Organization: Boston College Lines: 286 Distribution: world Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: ps09.bc.edu Xref: tivoli.tivoli.com alt.startrek.creative:5463 "Julia", a Star Trek: DS9 story, by Pamela Buickel, copyright 1994. All rights reserved. Star Trek: DS9 Characters, copyright Paramount Pictures. All rights reserved. JULIA: PT I In the heyday of the Cardassian occupation of Bajor, when the resistance was in its crescent, the holy orders and temples were often the target of looting and violence. Relics were confiscated, simple dwellings ransacked, and crops burned. Younger, stronger monks and vedeks were rounded up for labor in the mines. The older, weaker brothers and sisters were slaughtered. One day in the northern-most region, of the northern-most peninsula, a platoon of Cardassian soldiers attacked a very small, very poor monastery. There was little to steal and most of the order were elderly, so the soldiers took to the task of torturing and killing their meek prey. But one young recruit was cowardly, and ran off toward the fields to hide so the others would not see his fear. He stumbled upon a young monk who already lay there in hiding. Both men trembled at the sight of each other--one in confusion and terror, the other in wordless panic. The soldier knew if the monk cried out his platoon would discover he was hiding, and he would be disgraced. He flung himself upon the monk, pummeling him with his fists. At the sight of first blood spilt from the blows, the soldier went into a frenzy. He unsheathed the knife at his hip and plunged it into his victim's eyes--first one, then the other. The monk howled in pain, the soldier howled in glory. The Cardassian leapt up from his victim and ran off to join the other soldiers in their blood sport, leaving the monk to his sightless agony, and eventual death. But the monk did not die. He huddled on the hard ground for a long time, until his self-pity could no longer provide him warmth. He set himself on a blind trek for help and shelter. With only his imagination to provide him light and companionship, he exacted revenge over and over upon his attacker--each scenario more cruel than the last. The longer he walked, the harder his heart became. The monk forgot his vows, and he knew hatred he had not known before--hatred of his enemy, of all Cardassians. Until, along the way, he came upon a man in a state more desperate than his own. The man had been shot, and left for dead. The monk ran a hand over the man's chest, and through the warm, sticky fluid felt the faint beat of a heart. He tore off the bottom part of his robe to form bandages. On his hands and knees he felt around for any supplies the man may have dropped, and came across a water canteen, nearly empty. Ignoring his own thirst, his concern focused only upon the unseen soul, he rationed the water through the man's lips, a drop at a time, and lay with him to keep him warm. This vigil he continued for two days and two nights, and on the third day the man recovered. To the monk's astonishment he discovered that the man he had tended so diligently was none other than his Cardassian tormentor. When the soldier realized who it was who had saved his life, he became remorseful. Throwing himself at the monk's feet, he wept and begged forgiveness for his previous cruelty. The monk's heart melted, and he forgave the soldier. The Cardassian then pledged his allegiance to the Bajoran monk, and promised to serve him faithfully for the rest of their lives. The soldier guided the monk to safety in the hillside, where once there, he removed his own eyesight in deference to his casualty, and his friend. And then together, the Bajoran monk and the Cardassian soldier established the Holy Order of Visionaries. To this day only the most devout novices pledge themselves to the order. For upon acceptance they must surrender their eyesight, so that they may serve all the Prophets' children generously, without regard to race, creed, sex, or deformity. *************** No one knew who she was, where she'd come from, or how long she spent suffering alone in the empty quarters where Odo found her, after receiving reports from passersby of terrible moans and screams coming from the area. The constable didn't recognize her, and knew she hadn't come through security to be assigned these rooms. In all likelihood, the woman had come off one of the transport ships in dock. She was probably wandering the corridors when the labor pangs hit, and crawled into the first vacant quarters she came upon. Odo couldn't understand why she didn't simply go to the infirmary, and was relieved to hand the problem over to the station's young medic, Dr. Julian Bashir. When he and his Bajoran nurse, Jabara, arrived on the scene, Odo quickly retreated to his office, where he felt he could be of more use scanning the day's manifests for the woman's identification. Julian, on the other hand, was feeling quite useless here--though he was loathed to admit it to himself, much less to his nurse, or the chief of security. It quickly became the most difficult delivery he had ever participated in. There was nothing special or risky about the pregnancy, at least, not that he could determine. The danger lay in the mother's refusal to acknowledge her baby's impending arrival. She thrashed out and kicked at the exasperated doctor and his nurse, whose normally infinite patience had long since fled. She was scared, and this Julian could understand. What he couldn't rationalize was her resistance to his help, to the point that she was endangering her baby's life, as well as her own. She was too far along in her labor to safely transport her to the infirmary, where he could use a mild restraining field--though under normal circumstances he would never consider such a thing. Her violent gyrations forbade the doctor from performing even a proper exam. All he could ascertain was that she was Cardassian, maybe 16- years-old, and that her baby was coming . . . *Now*. Julian kept up a soothing discourse, fighting the urge to scream at the girl. But when it became critical for him to have her cooperation, and it was obvious none was forthcoming, Julian used a medical technique he'd learned from the writings of a revered 23rd-century Starfleet doctor. He administered a swift right-cross to her chin--just hard enough to startle. The treatment had the desired effect. The Cardassian girl lay back, stunned, and merely whimpered. Julian leaned over her and lay his hands firmly on the sides of her head, forcing her attention on his face. "Now listen to me," he spoke in quiet, even tones, but with force in every syllable, "whether you want it or not, this baby is coming. I'm going to help you. No one here wants to hurt you--but I need you to work with me. Do you understand?" The girl's eyes brimmed over with tears, but she made no other response. Julian kept at her. "Do you understand!?", he said again. "I'm not going *anywhere*." Finally, mercifully, she acquiesced. The girl nodded slowly, then squeezed her eyes shut, and arched her back in anticipation of another wave of pain. Julian relaxed his own stance, and let out a quick sigh of relief before resuming the immediate task of preparing the way for a new life to enter the universe. For an instant he caught the eye of Nurse Jabara, who bit back the urge to burst out laughing. Julian whispered a prayer under his breath, "Thank you, Dr. Leonard McCoy." Later, while the exhausted young mother lay sleeping, and Julian finished cleaning up, Jabara paced back and forth with the tiny baby girl bundled in her arms. The child's parentage was unmistakable--with fine Cardassian ridges around her face, and down her neckline and shoulders--and Bajoran blue eyes, and the identifiable wrinkle of the nose. Jabara shook her head, sadly. "This is not good," she spoke softly, to no one in particular. "What did you say?", Julian asked, coming out of the bathroom, still toweling off his hands. Before she could answer, the door chimed. Odo had returned with information on their mysterious Cardassian guest. Julian beamed at him, "Constable! You missed your chance to cut the umbilical cord," he teased the shapeshifter. "Hrummph," was Odo's only response to Julian's taunt. Despite himself, he peeked into Jabara's arms. "Well, that explains some things," he said, as he looked up at the nurse. A silent understanding passed between the two, not unnoticed by the doctor. It began to annoy him. "What did you find out?, Julian addressed Odo, a little curtly. He hated being on the outside. "Her name's Aelenn Ocetta," he started. "At least, that's what it says on the manifest. She booked passage from Bajor to DS9, transferring to an Andorian freighter we have in dock. The freighter leaves DS9 in six hours." "Looks like she's going to miss her flight," Julian said. "Do you know where on Bajor she came from?" "She caught the shuttle from the Talcet district." "Probably comes from the Talcet Resettlement Center. I remember the place when Garak and I visited there a year ago. She's obviously one of the war orphans." "If that's true, I wonder where she got the money for the trip?" Odo's suspicious nature took over. "The whole passage cost 1000 Bajoran Lita. That's quite a sum for a war orphan." "Indeed," Julian mused. "I guess we can find out more when she wakes up, though," he hastened to add, "I don't want to badger her. Poor thing's scared enough as it is." He thought for a moment, "I wonder if we can find the father? He must be one of the Bajoran boys from the center." Jabara nodded, seemingly in agreement, though in her heart she knew the child's father was no orphan boyfriend. It would never occur to this young man to think the Bajoran in question was likely a caretaker, or local villager, who seized the chance to take out his hatred and bigotry on an innocent child--one who was as much a victim of the occupation as he was. The fare was probably paid by him, to dispose of his dirty indiscretion before his family found out. That Julian Bashir wouldn't immediately consider this, was one of the reasons Jabara liked him, and respected him. His innocence, and lack of any prejudice, annoyed some. They found him naive. Jabara found him refreshing. She hoped he'd always stay that way. "Where's my baby?" All three startled at the child-like voice. The girl, now awake, struggled to sit up on the bed. "Take it easy," Julian moved quickly to her side. "You may be a little sore." He helped ease her up against the pillows. "I want my baby," she said again. Jabara held out the infant to place in her arms. The girl stared distrustingly at the nurse, and would only reach for the child when Julian told her it was O.K. When Jabara tried to show her how to support the baby's head, she jerked away. Julian quickly intervened, both to protect the baby, and to avoid an argument. He dismissed Jabara, and shot a look to the constable that told him his presence, too, was no longer required. Odo merely grumbled, "If you need me," then left swiftly behind the nurse. Odo knew better than to argue with Dr. Bashir in these situations. Once alone, Julian tried to establish a rapport with the Cardassian mother. She was uneasy and, at the same time, comfortable with the doctor. "Is she strong--will she live?" she asked Julian. He smiled, and said, "Of course she'll live. She's very healthy. And pretty, like her mother." The compliment fell flat on the girl, and she glowered at him. Julian quickly changed his strategy. "Do you have someone to help you with the baby--anyone we can contact for you?" "No," was all she said. Julian realized information was going to be tough to come by. Just then the child started to wail, and the girl went wide-eyed with concern. "I think she's hungry," he told the mother. "She's ready to nurse." The look on the girl's face told him she was completely at a loss as to what to do. He wondered if she'd received any prenatal care at all. "It's not that difficult--rather natural, really. Do you want me to help you begin?" The young mother started to hand the baby back to Julian. He laughed, and gently guided the infant back toward her mother's breast. "I think it works much better if you do it. Here, now, just relax . . ." When the girl seemed more at ease, Julian left her alone to begin bonding with her child. He promised to check in on her a few hours later. On his way back from the infirmary, Julian hoped she'd be more receptive to some questions. He brought along a small stuffed bear, once loved by Molly O'Brien. She had since outgrown the toy, and left it behind when she accompanied her mother to Bajor. When Julian entered the quarters, his heart sank. The baby girl lay asleep on the bed, nestled in a blanket. She was warm, and dry--and completely alone. There was no sign of the young mother anywhere. The computer confirmed his fear-- the Andorian freighter had left the station 30 minutes prior. With a sigh, he tapped his com badge. "Bashir to Odo. Constable, we have a little problem . . ." An hour later Julian stood with Commander Sisko in Odo's security office. Sisko wanted immediate answers. "What did you find out, Constable?" Odo handed a data padd to the commander. "It seems our Miss Ocetta kept her flight plans after all." Julian involuntarily groaned. "The Andorian captain confirms she is aboard his ship. We can have her picked up when he makes his first stop at Altair VI." "No," Julian quickly interjected. Sisko looked to his medical officer, with eyebrows raised. "Doctor?" he started. Julian hurriedly explained. "Commander, there's no need to treat her as a criminal." "I disagree, Doctor," Odo said. "She did abandon her own child . . ." "And, on board a federation-run space station," Sisko continued. "But sir," Julian fought to keep his voice from sounding like a whine. "She's just a child herself. Dragging her back here isn't going to make her want the baby any more than she does now. She's scared, and confused, and . . ." "That's not the point," Odo interrupted. "She committed a crime on board this station . . ." It was Julian's turn to interrupt. "Commander . . ." Sisko raised a hand to cease the conversation. "All right!" He leaned against Odo's desk, arms crossed. "I must admit, my immediate concern is for the baby. At the moment we're responsible for her safety," Sisko paused, "and for turning her over to the proper Bajoran authorities." "You mean an orphanage?" Julian said. "Yes," Sisko said softly, but firmly. "Major Kira's contacting Bajor now." "But what if the mother comes back?" Julian looked into Sisko's unflinching expression, then dropped his gaze and said, more to himself than anyone, "Right. She's not coming back." Sisko couldn't help but soften to the doctor's mood. He placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder, with a friendly squeeze. Then he said, "Constable, I don't think we need to pursue the matter further--at least, not at this time." "As you wish, Commander." Shaking his head, Odo thought he would never understand humanoids. "Come on, doctor," Sisko gently nudged Julian toward the door. "Let's see what Major Kira's got for us." -- "Earth-Mostly harmless" "TO HELL WITH THE Douglas Adams PRIME DIRECTIVE! 1 I'M GONNA KILL 1 SOMETHING!" TecceAn@cleo.bc.edu Unkown Path: tivoli.tivoli.com!geraldo.cc.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!news2.near.net!delphi.bc.edu!NewsWatcher!user From: TecceAn@cleo.bc.edu (Anthony Tecce) Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: REPOST FOR WANG: Julia pt.2 Date: Wed, 01 Feb 1995 08:50:34 -0500 Organization: Boston College Lines: 332 Distribution: world Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: ps09.bc.edu Xref: tivoli.tivoli.com alt.startrek.creative:5464 JULIA: PART II Kira Nerys hated bureaucrats. She hated having to talk to them, to coddle them, to plead with them. She hated bureaucrats almost as much as she hated Cardassians. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. There were a few Cardassians she grudgingly respected, and one or two she actually liked. She had yet to find a bureaucrat she could say that about! When Julian and Sisko returned to Ops, they found Major Kira in a heated discussion with a Bajoran male, via the com link. In her anger she naturally slipped into her native tongue. Though neither men were very fluent in Bajoran, it didn't take a linguist to understand that Kira was burning the man's ears with string of obscenities. She suddenly broke the link with a slam on the com panel. Kira turned to find Sisko staring questioningly at her, with veiled amusement. She suddenly felt like a child who'd been caught doing something naughty. "Good news, Major?" Sisko chided her. Kira immediately went on the defensive. "I'll never understand civil servants! The idiocy . . .we could feed an entire *province* on what we pay just *one* of those cretins . . ." Sisko quietly stopped her tirade. "What did they say about our little guest?" Kira took a breath, and fought to control her temper. "They don't want her." "What!!??" Julian broke in. "What the hell does that mean, they don't *want* her!!. His outburst only contributed to the major's ire. She turned her exasperation with full force on him. "Just that, doctor. They don't want her. Oh, they'll take her if they have to, but they suggest we find other alternatives." "This is outrageous!" Given enough fuel, Julian's temper could match Kira's, flare for flare. "I don't understand . . ." "That's just it," she countered. "You don't understand--you couldn't possibly . . ." Sisko was convinced he spent half his time playing referee to his often volatile senior staff. Too many strong personalities, too many long hours, all under lousy conditions. "Why don't you explain it to us, Major, so we *can* understand." Julian and Kira glared at each other--neither one angry with the other. Both too stubborn to admit their misdirection. Julian was the first to back down, a silent apology behind his eyes as he dropped his gaze. The action only frustrated Kira, and made her feel guilty. She knew this man wasn't her enemy. Her anger was rooted in embarrassment. Embarrassed by her position as the voice of the Bajoran government to Starfleet. A voice laced in prejudice--a feeling she could well understand and, at the same time, despise. Kira tried to soften her tactic. "Look, Julian," she used his name awkwardly. "The problem is the resettlement centers are over full now with children they can't place." She hesitated before broaching the more painful aspect. "And, the fact that this child is a half-breed . . ." Julian couldn't believe she said it. "A half-breed?" His voice a strangled whisper. Kira continued, despite her discomfort. "The truth of the matter is, a Cardassian child has a better chance of being placed in foster care than she does. And even in the orphanage, she'll never be accepted by the other children--Cardassian or Bajoran. They'll ignore her, or abuse her . . . or worse." It sickened Kira to have to spell it out for the doctor. Julian felt ill. "I can't believe that from children. Not of their own accord. Children take their cue from adults." "That may be," Kira said, simply. She couldn't take the pain in his eyes any longer. Kira fixed her attention on Sisko. "It hasn't been that long since the occupation. There's still a lot of fear, and rage . . ." The explanation felt weak on her lips. Sisko understood better than he cared to admit. "Are they suggesting we try to place the child ourselves?" "That's exactly what we'll do," Julian said with conviction. "I'm certainly not going to release her into a potentially abusive situation." "It may not be that easy . . ." Kira started. "It doesn't matter, Major. Whatever it takes, however long it takes." Julian was adamant. The commander, however, had misgivings. "Now wait a minute, Doctor. We have to think of what's best for the child. And what's best may not include being passed hand to hand around the station until we've found her a home." Julian had begun to feel like the little girl's knight in armor. His natural tendencies toward protectiveness overwhelmed him. "That won't be necessary, Commander. I'm the chief medical officer, and as such, I'll be solely responsible for her. No one need be put out, but me." His last remark sounded sharp, even to him. Sisko knew the doctor's heart was larger than his common sense at times. But he couldn't fault him for it. Nor could he override his authority here. The decision made, he could only comply. "All right, Dr. Bashir. What do you need us to do on this end?" Julian thought for a moment, then said, "Major, please track down any Bajoran families living on DS9 who have volunteered for the government foster program." Julian thought these families, having spent time off Bajor and among the many races on board the station, might be more amenable to adopting the baby. Kira only nodded, not trusting herself to say any thing else. The more he pondered the situation, the more he was sure he could find a suitable home for the infant himself. And, until then, he would be her temporary foster "family". Julian smiled to himself. **Might be good practice--for future.** And, anyway, how hard could it be? At first, the signs looked good for finding a home. Major Kira found five Bajoran families who qualified. All expressed an interest, so Julian and Jabara scheduled time to interview each candidate. By the end of the week, Julian's spirits had dampened considerably. After talking with the first set of potential parents, Julian realized Major Kira had not informed the Bajorans of the child's parentage. The first couple quickly made it clear they would not consider taking in the child, under any circumstances. The second couple expressed the same discomfort. The remaining three families canceled their interviews altogether. Julian then turned to a Starfleet couple he'd been counseling for infertility. The woman was human, the man a Vulcan. He was sure they'd be anxious to adopt any child. After "careful consideration", they informed the abashed young doctor that it would be "illogical, at this juncture, to take on the responsibilities of a child with such opposing heritages." Julian was distraught--and exhausted. In addition to his desperate search for foster parents, he had his regular duties as the station's physician, and as a senior officer--as well as the constant demands of an infant. During duty hours he allowed his staff to assist in caring for the child, since he had to bring her with him to the infirmary. Nurse Jabara even decided to name her. "We can't keep calling her, 'she' or 'the baby', Jabara said. "What do you suggest?" Julian asked. "Well, it can't be a Bajoran name, or a Cardassian one. Neither seems appropriate." She thought for a moment, then said, "How about 'Julian-a'?" Julian blushed, despite himself, and grinned. "If you're looking for the feminine of my name, I think that would be *Julia*." Jabara cocked her head at the infant girl, and let the name roll off her lips for measure. "Julia. Yes, I think she definitely looks like a *Julia*." "She does have a rather 'lost' look, I guess." This was one of the few moments of pure joy he allowed himself. For every night he spent alone with the little girl, and quickly discovered the difficulties of single parenthood. The Cardassian breast milk he had to replicate disagreed with the baby. She developed colic, and her system resisted the medicine he normally prescribed. While his days were long, his nights were longer. She slept little, and he slept less. Yet, Julian declined offers of help from his friends--Dax, O'Brien, Sisko. Even Kira found an excuse to "drop by" one evening. Still, he refused their assistance--both out of pride, and an increasing attachment. Each time she was rejected for adoption, Julian became more determined to protect little girl--to the point of possessiveness. Into the second week of this routine, Commander Sisko put his foot down. He couldn't afford for his medical officer to operate at, what was obviously, less than peak efficiency. And, since they hadn't succeeded in placing the child in foster care, there was no alternative but to turn her over to a resettlement center, whatever the consequences. Julian was despondent. That night Garak stopped by, to "loan him a splendid collection of Cardassian poetry," and to express his displeasure that they hadn't lunched together for over a week. Julian paced the room like a caged animal, trying unsuccessfully to lull the baby into unconsciousness. "Sorry, Garak," he said, sarcastically, "but I've been rather busy." "Too busy to eat? Tsk, tsk, my dear Doctor," Garak chided. "If you don't take care of yourself, what good can you be to anyone else." He walked over to the replicator, and ordered a bowl of Plomleek soup, with basil, and a cup of Tarkalean tea, extra sweet. "Since when do you eat Vulcan soup, or drink tea, Garak?" Julian was in no mood for games tonight. "Oh this isn't for me, Doctor," Garak continued spritely. "This is for you. Now, no arguments," Garak said to stall any objection. He walked over and tenderly pried the baby from Julian's aching arms. "Wait, Garak . . . be careful of her head . . ." "Really, Doctor, it's not as if I've never done this before. Go sit down and eat your soup." Julian started to protest the Cardassian's intrusion, but the smell wafting over from the soup stirred his stomach, and he remembered he was hungry. He retrieved the food from the replicator, and starting spooning it into his mouth before he even sat down. "No need to hurry, Doctor, Garak said, looking perfectly comfortable cradling the infant. "Besides, I think the young lady here is craving a little bit of Cardassia. Maybe a story, or a song." **She needs her mother**, Julian thought bitterly. Instead, he said, "Maybe you should read her some of that Cardassian poetry. Should do the trick." Garak amusingly ignored the doctor's sarcasm. Julian watched his friend silently while he polished off his meal. "You look pretty natural there, Garak. Is there something you'd like to tell me?" he challenged the tailor. "What do you think?" Garak answered simply. Julian gave the Cardassian a tired smile, then turned his attention to the empty bowl, fidgeting with the spoon. Garak understood his young friend's mood. "You're worried about sending her to the resettlement center." Julian only nodded. "Perhaps," Garak continued, "you haven't considered all the alternatives." The doctor let out an exasperated sigh. "I tried to find alternatives! What do you think I've been doing for the past two weeks? There simply are no other alternatives." "My dear, Doctor," Garak countered softly. "There are always other alternatives." The infant's crying abated, and Garak carefully laid her in the makeshift bassinet that took up one wall in the doctor's small living area. "I think you should sleep on it," he continued. "Things may look altogether different in the morning." Julian had no patience for the tailor's subterfuge tonight. He rubbed his eyes and tried to ignore him. But Garak wasn't put off. "I think I will treat the child here to a little bedtime story. And, Doctor, you might find this fascinating as well." Julian groaned. "Garak, I'm in no mood for Cardassian stories tonight." "Ah, but this is a tale from *Bajoran* folklore. I promise you'll like it. It's all about a monk, and a Cardassian soldier . . ." *************** Twenty-six hours later, Julian and Kira stood at the foot of an unnamed mountainous region in the northwest peninsula of Bajor. Taking his cue from Garak, Julian had pressured Kira into contacting the Kai's office about the monastery. Winn proved surprisingly helpful, and confirmed the location of the Visionaries, and even provided the access code that would allow them to enter the monastery grounds. Kira punched in the code on her data padd to release the low-grade force field at the mountain's base. "Cardassian design," she noted. From here Kira and Julian had been instructed to follow the trail leading up to the top--a 2 1/2-hour trek by foot. The path was overgrown, and the terrain rocky. Julian had to take extra care due to the precious 8-pound cargo he carried in a satchel on his back. "Is she going to be all right back there?" Kira asked, more to break the uncomfortable silence they shared. Julian had been uncharacteristically quiet since they left DS9. "I think so." His thoughts were conflicting, and they preoccupied him. On the one hand, he was glad they were not going to have to send the infant to a resettlement center. But, he wondered how much happier she would be growing up in such a sheltered environment--surrounded by people who would never see her. "Kira, I appreciate your company," he said sincerely. "I know this is no day at the beach." "What?" He started to explain, but she cut him off, sensing what he meant to say. He was grateful for her presence, and that made Kira uneasy--and strangely delighted. It was these conflicting emotions she had in his company that caused her to keep him at arm's length. "I never pass up a chance to come home." As if that said it all. "And besides, I always thought these people were a myth--a legend. It's not everyday I get to meet up with a legend." "I know what you mean," he said. "Garak told me Cardassian defectors fled to the order in search of sanctuary. The monks would arrange safe passage away from the sector." "It's amazing how much Garak knows--about defectors." "Among other things," Julian agreed. The rest of the climb they spent in relative silence. Until finally they came to a clearing. There they saw a simple stone archway built up into a wall of trees. Beyond this was a second forcefield, and a path that led, presumably, to the monastery of the Visionaries. Standing in the arch stood a pale figure. He wore a simple grey robe, and his almost-white hair hung down around his shoulders. He wore no adornment on his right ear, as was customary for Bajoran clergy. His appearance was made all the more ghostly by the sunken sockets where once there were eyes. Kira and Julian approached with some apprehension, and stopped suddenly when the monk spoke. "Step back from the mark," was all he said. They looked at each other questioningly, then glanced down at the ground. Indeed where they stood was a stone marker. Engraved there was the symbol of Bajor, crossed by a Cardassian sword. The handiwork was beautifully intricate. They both took a step back. When they did, the blind monk slid his hand along the left pillar >of the archway. The forcefield dropped, and he gestured for the two to come through. Julian and Kira followed in step behind their silent, blind guide. The path took twists and turns, and appeared to have no end. The foliage on either side was unchanging, and gave them no indication as to how far they had come. Suddenly the monk stopped and turned to face them. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, apparently indicating their surroundings. The question seemed ludicrous coming from the one who asked it. Neither Julian nor Kira knew how to answer, or whether it would be appropriate to even try. "This is as far as you may go," the monk continued. He gave no sign as to whether he had expected them to respond. "You must leave the child with me here." A knot formed at the pit of Julian's stomach, and he had the sudden urge to turn and escape this place. Kira sensed his reluctance, and moved in beside him to slip her hand in his. With a gentle squeeze she brought him around. Julian allowed Kira to help him remove the satchel from his back. He gingerly lifted the little girl out, and held her close against his chest. Then before his emotions could get the better of him, he quickly placed the baby into the arms of the sightless monk. The monk asked him, "Has the child a name?" The question took Julian by surprise. "Uh, yes," he stammered. "Um, Julia." He looked sheepishly at Kira, but she only smiled back at him. "A beautiful name, for a beautiful child," was all he said. "Be assured we will care well for Julia. But now you must go. Follow the path back the way you came, and never set foot upon the marker. And remember, the main forcefield will reactivate in three hours." With no other ceremony he turned, and retreated further along the pathway. Kira and Julian stood there until the monk was out of their sight. Then they started back toward the archway that would lead them out of the sanctuary. As they made their way quickly along the trail they passed two elderly men coming the other way. The men walked slowly, and held onto each other's arm to steady themselves. Both wore the same simple grey robes as had the guide. Their faces were so weathered with age that the ocular scarring was almost unnoticeable. They spoke not at all, and without pausing in their gait, only nodded to Julian and Kira. Unconsciously, and with some reverence, the two nodded in return to the Bajoran and the Cardassian. Then without another glance back, they slipped through the archway, and hurriedly made their way back down the rough and slippery mountain trail. THE END -- "Earth-Mostly harmless" "TO HELL WITH THE Douglas Adams PRIME DIRECTIVE! 1 I'M GONNA KILL 1 SOMETHING!" TecceAn@cleo.bc.edu Unkown