Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After the occupation, Nerys was able to stop focusing on most of her lifelong problems. When DS9 was finally handed over to the Bajorans and the Federation, the replicators were supposed to address her biggest residual fear, the one that had plagued Bajor for years, the one that had been weaponized against her people: Hunger.

In theory, hunger was to become a memory. In reality, it haunted her. Chief O’Brien was three steps short of a miracle worker, but even he had trouble getting Cardassian infrastructure to work in tandum with Federation equipment, and that included the replicators.

Nerys had been wary when Command had asked people not to hoard food in their quarters. It was a strain on the system, generating false demand when the energy was needed elsewhere. Eat as you go. Keep demand to a minimum. Pretend you haven’t just survived a forced-famine in an exerted effort to work your people to death for a foreign empire. Nerys had complied, led by example.

Then came the blip. For twelve minutes and fifty-two seconds, DS9’s replicators had stopped working. Random power outages had plagued the station, but this one had brought down just the replicators, as they resided on a parallel grid.

During the panic, Nerys had been focused on maintaining order with Odo. They broke up the riots and stopped the brawls. They spent the rest of the day logging the break-ins and assaults, questioning and arresting, forgiving and forgetting.

That night, as she sat in her quarters, Nerys eventually went over to her private replicator, still of Cardassian build. With a shallow breath, she ordered, “One bag of quadrotriticale grain.”

It obeyed, and the bag materialized.

It was so easy, she did it again. And again. Before she realized it, she had ten bags of grain on her dining table.

Nerys had seen what hunger could make friends do to each other. The Cardassians were smart enough to weaponize it, because it worked. It was the only force in the universe that could overpower one’s hatred, one’s innate desire for liberty.

She held that bag in her hands for two minutes before the chime at her door snapped her out of her stupor. “Computer, identify.” she demanded.

The computer calmly answered, “Lieutenant Jadzia Dax. Science offic-”

Huffing, Nerys rolled her eyes as the monotone machine droned. “What does she want?”

The computer misunderstood and opened the doors.

“I know it’s late,” Jadzia acknowledged as she entered, still in her uniform but with her hair undone. “I just wanted to-” She paused as the door closed behind her. She noticed the grain. She had helped pass out plenty of it by now.

Nerys froze. This woman was Commander Sisko’s informal right hand, his best friend, his informer. “I know I’m not supposed to-”

“It’s okay.”

Stiff in her posture, Nerys set it back on the replicator mat and explained, “I was just- I just…” She never had problems lying before.

“It’s okay.” Jadzia closed the distance, smooth and confident. With a soft, kind smile, she placed a gentle hand over Nerys’, preventing her from forcing the replicator to dematerialize the food. “I won’t tell Benjamin.”

“It’s a strain on the system,” Nerys argued, against her own position. She couldn’t bear to look up at the Trill she technically outranked.

“May I?” Jadzia gently removed the bag from the replicator and ordered, “One raktajino. Hot.” The replicator obeyed, and she took her spare hand off Nerys’, hefting the blue mug with satisfaction. Without a word, Jadzia handed the bag of grain over to its intended owner.

Perplexed, Nerys watched the Trill glide over to the window by her bed. Turning a blind eye was odd enough, but the drink was too much for her. “You like Klingon food?”

Sipping her raktajino, Jadzia hummed. “Jadzia didn’t. Curzon did.”

Nerys nodded, even though Jadzia was still stargazing. She had read the Trill’s profile and seen it mentioned. She’d grown up with Bajorans and Cardassians, so the idiosyncrasies of Trill symbiosis had never really registered until now.

Jadzia turned back to her, unfazed. “Now we both do.”

Grimacing, Nerys huffed, “Was there a reason you wanted to see me?”

Jadzia nodded, approaching the small sofa and sitting down. “I was working with Benjamin on the blip. Nice work with Odo, by the way. I remember a lot from my past lives, but I’ve never seen such a large station get locked down by such a small team so quickly.”

“...Thanks.” Nerys set her grain down on the small dinner table before moving to the chairs stationed across from Jadzia. “Was that all?”

Jadzia appeared immune to her attitude. “I’ll be quick. I grew up watching the reports of Cardassia’s crimes against your people, even in my last life. I don’t claim to understand what you went through, but the blip gave me pause for concern.” She downed the rest of her drink. “After seeing the station panic, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Nerys’ left eye twitched. Caught red-handed, she couldn’t say she was, and expect Jadzia to believe her. “...I’m alive.”

Nodding, Jadzia stood up. “I’m glad that you are.” With her long legs, she gracefully glided back over to the replicator and dematerialized her empty mug. “Next time, you can barge in on me.”

“...Maybe I will.” Nerys made a note to avoid the Trill’s quarters.

Jadzia suggested, “Why don’t you pick a number, and stick to it?”

Blinking, Nerys cocked her head.

Placing her hands behind her back, Jadzia explained, “For your supply of grain. Say, for example: One hundred bags. Number them, keep them safe, but use or return them as they reach the end of their longevity.”

Nerys grimaced. With great practice, she swallowed her colorful rebuke. This Trill had never known hunger.

“Or don’t,” Jadzia offered as she gave a slight bow. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Relaxing, Nerys nodded and followed suit. “Good night, lieutenant.”

Jadzia stopped in the doorway. “When we’re off duty, you can call me ‘Jadzia’,” she assured her. And yet, that soft, kind smile somehow morphed into a devilish smirk. “Or call me whatever you like. I won’t tell.” And just as the doors slid shut, she winked at her.

Nerys slept three hours that night. She worried that Dax would inform Sisko, and then she bristled at the idea of her underling flirting with her, before finally rebuking herself: This was a Trill who had never known hunger and war as she had; she was another Federation idealist who didn’t know better, regardless of the slug living in her gut. She was a new coworker, and nothing more. If there was going to be a tearing down, she would own it. If the girl was going to be just as bad as Bashir, she would extinguish the kindling flame.

Chapter Text

True to her word, Jadzia didn’t say anything about the grain. Their shifts continued, and to her pleasant surprise the Trill did not flirt with her while they were on duty. Nerys, in turn, did not drop by her quarters. They didn’t even run into each other on the Promenade, but Nerys was also taking steps to avoid her.

Fraternization was frowned upon in the resistance, for obvious reasons. Emotions got in the way, and people died. Valuable people. For every Bajoran who was willing to stand up and fight the Cardassians, a hundred more were cowed into submission, before inevitably being taken to the camps. Of course, it still happened; and Nerys never judged too harshly. They were young, they still had needs. And so, they fraternized.

It was fifteen days later when Nerys entered Commander Sisko’s office, finding Lieutenant Dax tossing a small, white ball up with some kind of red stitching in the air as she lounged in the chair across from the human’s desk. “We should check in on those girls some time,” she was saying.

“Don’t you dare, old man,” Ben chuckled as he noticed Nerys enter.

“They’re probably mothers by now-” Dax looked up and smiled at Nerys. Catching her ball, she set it back on Sisko’s desk and stood up. “Excuse me. I’ll leave you to it.”

“You can stay,” Nerys assured her as she handed a datapad to Sisko. “I have a doomed request from Doctor Bashir. He wants a shipment of Sonambutril.”

Jadzia cocked her head, staring quizically up at her. It was the first time Nerys, herself, had piqued her interest instead of a spacial anomaly.

Sisko accepted the datapad but immediately warned, “I don’t have authorization to get him such a dangerous sedative.”

“That’s what I told him,” Nerys recalled with a no-nonsense grunt. “But as your second-in-command-” She couldn’t help but glance at Jadzia, who was tossing the ball between her hands. “-he asked that I try anyways.”

Nodding, Sisko skimmed through the report before clarifying, “He wants Sonambutril for hospice care?”

Jadzia promptly sat up, drawing a sharp breath as she grimaced.

Nerys shrugged. “The patient is apparently going to need it in a few days. Alternatives wouldn’t be as effective, he says.” From her personal experience, any sedative was a luxury, side effects be damned.

A natural extrovert, Jadzia could boast of meeting almost everyone on DS9 by now. “Who is it?” she inquired, unable to put a face to the description. "What happened?"

Nerys shook her head. “Someone got injured during the panic.”

“What panic?”

“The blip. Doctor Bashir thought the patient had stabilized and was recovering, but that’s suddenly changed. He wouldn’t tell me who. Medical protocol.”

Jadzia went very still, suddenly staring down at the floor as she frowned. She looked over at her old friend, but he pointedly refused to look at her.

Instead, Sisko denied the request. “I wish I could swing it for him, but they’re barely letting me run the station as-is. I can’t get dangerous narcotics onboard while things are so precarious. The doctor will just have to make do with what’s already available to him.”

That seemed to be the end of it. Nerys went on with her shift. Jadzia certainly didn’t seem bothered by it when she returned to work. She even volunteered to buy the Ops crew a round at Quark’s, as it was her turn; and Nerys, as always, refused.

So when Jadzia showed up at her door again, Nerys was unsure of her reason to visit. Still, she granted the Trill access and let her get a raktajino.

Jadzia stood at the window by her bed and reminded her, “You have a magnificent view.”

Nerys approached. “Do you not have a window?”

Jadzia gracefully stepped to the side, sharing the space with her. “I am but a lowly lieutenant,” she sighed. Even then, she still smiled. “But the Promenade is mostly empty at night.”

Nerys wanted to feel bad for wasting her window, but she had real problems to worry about. “You didn’t ask Commander Sisko for better quarters?”

Jadzia gave a knowing smirk. “It doesn’t work that way in Starfleet.” Before Nerys could argue, she asked, “How many bags do you have now?”

Grimacing, Nerys crossed her arms and asked, “Isn’t there a log for the replicators you can check?”

Jadzia shook her head. “Cardassian ghosts strike again. You’re living in one of the officer’s rooms, and they operate on a closed network.”

Nerys’ eyes went wide. “So any replicator logs I generate-”

“-can be deleted or edited from the console,” Jadzia agreed as she raised a toast.

Scoffing, Nerys rolled her eyes. “They didn’t tell me that.”

“Why would they?” Jadzia chuckled before she sipped her drink. “O’Brien will have to rip everything out and install Federation equipment, one room at at time. You have a few months, just act surprised when he shows up,” she instructed with a wink.

Nerys thought about it for a few moments before asking, “Why didn’t you tell Sisko?”

Jadzia smiled down at her. “There isn’t any real harm. If anything, more bags of grain will come in handy if the replicators get another blip.”

“But I broke the rules. Starfleet’s precious rules,” Nerys reminded her with a bitter bite in her voice.

Jadzia asked, “Do you feel better? More secure?” She didn’t judge. Her piercing blue eyes offered kindness and sincerity.

Swallowing, Nerys turned her gaze back to the universe. “...Yes.”

“Good,” Jadzia decided, looking out to the stars. “Did you pick a number?”

“...Yes.”

“...Good.” Jadzia finished her drink. Heading to the replicator, she dematerialized her empty mug before asking, “Do you mind if I break the rules, as well?”

Nerys looked back at her. She wasn’t sure if the Trill intended to be more direct this time, but she wasn’t in the mood for any flings.

Jadzia seemed to read her effortlessly and tapped her fingers against the replicator mat. “I want to help Julian with his hospice patient.”

“Oh… The sedative,” Nerys realized, closing the distance. “If you don’t mind my asking… Why?”

The question prompted a conflicted, amused smirk from Jadzia. “It’s a funny thing to say, but… I remember dying. There are good deaths, and there are bad deaths.”

“Too true,” Nerys agreed. She didn’t need to live multiple times to know that.

Nodding, Jadzia offered an encouraging smile. “I’d like to help this person have a good death.”

“...You can create the drug?”

Jadzia shook her head. “I’m no pharmacist, and I doubt Julian would trust an unverified source like me. But he’ll take the ingredients, if he knows they came from a trusted source.”

Scrunching her lips, Nerys remembered all of their faces as they died, and all of the bodies she had come across, all the victims of Cardassia’s cruelty and torture. “Okay.”

Smiling, Jadzia leaned against the wall and asked, “Would you be willing to give them to him?”

Grimacing, Nerys demanded, “Why does it have to be me?”

Unfazed, Jadzia motioned between them. “I’m the young, sexy science officer. What could I possibly know about narcotics? But you, you’re the expert survivalist who can get the job done, no matter what. He already asked you for the drug, he trusted you could get it for him.”

To Nerys’ surpise, Jadzia then pointed to herself and acknowledged, “I’m Benjamin’s best friend. Shouldn’t he have approached me first?”

Huffing, Nerys nodded and retrieved a small messenger bag from under her bed. “Fine. I can take it to him,” she agreed as she returned to Jadzia.

Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, Jadzia squeezed and whispered, “Thank you. I owe you two.” As she started replicating the chemical compounds, she chuckled, “I’m actually surprised he’s interested in me, when you’re standing right here.”

“...Maybe he has a thing for multi-gendered immortals,” Nerys scoffed as she watched Jadzia work, carefully calculating the precise amounts of each compound. “Compared to you, I’m just a boring terrorist.”

To that, Jadzia laughed. It was the first time Nerys had drawn such a response from her. “You give the boy too much credit,” she assured her as she worked. “His attraction to me is skin-deep. Nothing more.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Nerys demanded.

Jadzia paused in her work, quickly looking over at her and gasping, “Was that a joke?”

Blinking, Nerys realized the woman’s towering height would be the punchline. “Oh, shut up and get back to it,” she scoffed, though she did smirk.

Laughing lightly, Jadzia obeyed, but she eventually decided with a hum, “Kira Nerys… freedom-fighter, survivalist… Hard hitter and an even harder body. If he had any sense, he would go after you.”

“He would regret it,” Nerys promised her.

Jadzia removed the last vial from the repilcator before clearing its log. “Done… and done.” She placed the last vial in the shorter woman’s bag. “Thank you. This really means a lot to me.”

Huffing, Nerys nodded and admitted, “I think people should be comfortable at the end.”

“Trust me, it’s hard to forget your bad deaths,” Jadzia promised with a pained smirk.

Closing up her bag, Nerys slung it over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t know. I can’t even imagine living forever. It sounds unbearable.”

Jadzia walked with her to the door. “It’s actually really pleasant, when you have the right people by your side.”

“...But you keep losing them,” Nerys observed as they exited her quarters. This, she didn't have to imagine. 

Jadzia offered her that same, small smile that hinted at her generations of wisdom. “But I also keep finding them.” They stopped at a junction in the hallway. “Do you know where Julian is quartered?”

Nerys nodded. “I’ve been by a few times.”

“Oh, really? So you’ll visit him, but not me? I see how it is.”

“What? No! He’s a-”

Jadzia grinned. “Don’t take me too seriously.” She placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder again and promised, “Thanks again. See you tomorrow, major.”

With a huff and a nod, Nerys offered, “You can…”

Jadzia stopped and looked back.

“When we’re off duty, you can call me ‘Nerys’, if you like.”

“...I’d love that,” Jadzia decided with a smile. “See you tomorrow, Nerys.”

“...Good night, Jadzia.”

Chapter Text

When Doctor Bashir came up to Ops for his weekly sitrep with Commander Sisko, Nerys gave him a curt, professional nod; she narrowed her eyes to warn him against flirting with Jadzia, but that ended up being moot. This time, it was Jadzia who chased after him, much to Nerys’ surprise.

“Excuse me, Julian?” she requested as she glided across Ops to intercept him. “I was hoping I might have a word with you.”

“Oh! Of course, Jadzia. Just-” he cleared his throat and looked between her, Nerys, and Sisko, who was already waiting behind his desk. “Let me just give my report to the commander?”

Smiling, Jadzia nodded and deliberately waited where she stood, instead of returning to her post.

Nerys grimaced but held her tongue. It wasn’t her business, she told herself. Jadzia was free to waste as much of her time, or his, as she wanted. Nerys figured it had a different value to her, as she was quasi-immortal.

As usual, it didn’t take Julian long to brief Sisko on all medical updates. When Julian emerged from Sisko’s office, he happily met with Jadzia but warned, “I’m busy with a patient, so I can’t stay too long.”

To that, Nerys almost balked. If Quark had offered her a bet on the boy trying to get away from Jadzia, she would have taken it and, apparently, lost everything.

“Yes, about that.” Jadzia, mindful of her surroundings, leaned in to whisper her question.

Julian was not so mindful. “Well, I can’t tell you. It’s doctor-patient confidentiality.”

With that small, wise smile, Jadzia nodded along. “If you could just ask them?”

Nerys grimaced.

Julian nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

Jadzia placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He clearly appreciated the physical contact, but he remained true to his word and rushed back to the turbolift.

Nerys repeatedly told herself it wasn’t her business, but she eventually asked, “Is it something serious?”

Jadzia shook her head. “Not like that. I want to say goodbye to them.”

Nerys stiffened. “That… You don’t even know who it is,” she assessed.

Jadzia was unfazed. “I like to think of myself as a friend to everyone on this station. I’m sure I’ve met this person at least twice by now.”

Nerys couldn’t help but admire the woman’s relentless energy, even if she felt it was misplaced.

A few minutes later, Sisko emerged from his office and approached Nerys. “Major, I’m afraid that Doctor Bashir will be stepping away from his post for the next few days, starting at oh-six-hundred hours tomorrow. We would like to ensure that he is not disturbed at all, unless it is an emergency.”

“I’ll have station-wide comm access restricted,” she assured him, already calling up the admin controls on her console.

“And assign him a security detail of two. Not strictly for security. He anticipates needing someone to retrieve certain items for his patient’s needs.”

“Consider it done, commander. I can find people for the job,” Nerys decided.

“I volunteer,” Jadzia immediately offered, drawing the attention of both. She was not happy to say it, but she clearly wanted the opportunity.

With a pained smile, Sisko nodded. “Your enthusiasm is appreciated, lieutenant. But I still need you in Ops.”

With a sad smile, Jadzia nodded. “Of course, commander.”

Sisko was halfway back to his office when he stopped. “Lieutenant, when was the last time you took a break?”

Jadzia smirked. “Not since we got DS9 up and running, sir.”

“...We’re not exactly ‘running’ yet, old man,” Sisko huffed with a tired smile. “But I can miss you for a few hours.”

“…Thank you, Benjamin.”

Sisko pointed a finger at her. “But only when Doctor Bashir asks for you. Got it?”

While a legitimate warning, it was clearly meant in good spirits. Jadzia still nodded and, quite seriously, promised, “I won’t let you down.”

Nerys never got to personally see for herself. A few hours later Chief O’Brien called in asking for Nerys to get him somebody who was familiar with Cardassian electrical sub basement networks, their routing conduits, and their relay stations.

He had spent the last two weeks figuring out what was causing the seemingly random power outages across different parts of the station, including the one that had hit the replicators’ power grid. His diagnosis was a Cardassian computer glitch, sending a command that was no longer valid through the network, overloading local systems and forcing the Federation to replace valuable components. They couldn’t terminate it remotely. The only practical solution, much to Nerys and Commander Sisko’s annoyance, was to catch it at whichever relay it was sitting on before it executed; the only other alternative was killing power across the whole station, which threatened life support and orbit stabilization.

Since the only Cardassian on the station was “just” a tailor, that left the Bajorans who had spent any part of the last sixty years sabotaging the systems. And that left Nerys, who ended up spending the next three days crawling through electrical tunnels. She had to guide O’Brien through the organized, chaotic maze to find the “jumper”, as he dubbed it.

Naturally, she was absolutely miserable until the last four hours.

Bathed in darkness, save for their flashlights, she squished in next to him as they stared at the open panel. It had four lights that were lit up, and one that was dark. “Why relay J-seventy-eight?” O’Brien asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

Ignoring the ache in her spine, Nerys aggressively tapped on the panel. “That’s where it’s headed. It hit E-forty-one three hours ago.” She ran her finger along the local grid map. “If you’re right about its programming, it won’t veer off to D-seventy-two or K-one-one.”

“So it has no choice but to hit J-seventy-eight, straight ahead!” O’Brien realized, laughing with relief.

Grimacing, Nerys gave him the bad news. “J-seventy-eight is…” She did the Cardassian math in her head. “...Far.”

“How far?” Miles grimaced.

“...About four clicks,” Nerys huffed.

“And it will run the command in… almost four hours.” Miles decided, “We’ll make it if we crawl with purpose.”

If she weren’t already on her hands and knees, Nerys would have collapsed. “...We could double back to the surface. Get on top of it.”

“That would be more than an hour, and then we’d have to cut a hole through the floor to get to the relay,” Miles assessed. “And we can’t risk damaging it.”

Nerys growled. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Miles agreed. Motioning with his flashlight, he prompted, “Lead the way.”

Nerys had been wary at first of the human ogling her posterior, but after the first day she was too miserable to care. At least now, they had their purpose set before them, thank the Prophets. They reached the relay with three minutes to spare and shut it down before the command could fire on its automated time. They heard the muffled groans of the people on the surface, who were more exhausted now from the recurring inconvenience.

Miles insisted on waiting a minute before turning the power back on, prompting muffled cheers from the people above.

“Please tell me we don’t have to crawl all the way back,” Miles begged.

Despite her prejudices, Nerys laughed from exhaustion. “We don’t have to. There should be one five clicks further up.”

“Five?!”

"Five, four, take your pick." 

When they finally emerged from the access basement, they called into Ops to log their progress.

Sisko happily answered, “We’ll know if Chief O’Brien was correct in… two hours and forty-seven minutes. Major Kira, you can lead him wherever he needs to go, yes?”

“Yes, sir…” she begrudgingly acknowledged. She swore that if the human was wrong, and the power outages kept happening, she would drag him back into the maze and leave him.

“Good. Both of you, take the rest of the day and tomorrow off.”

“Thank you, sir!” Miles happily acknowledged. He gave a professional nod to Nerys. “Good work today, major. I can tell you now that we’re in the clear. Can I treat you to a pint at Quark’s?”

Nerys didn’t know what that was, but if it was from Quark's she knew what was best for her health. “I’ll pass,” she huffed as she headed for the Promenade. Stopping a few paces, she turned back. “But thank you. I’m glad Starfleet sent you to us.”

Miles seemed to recover, nodding with a smile.

Halfway back to her quarters, Nerys got pinged by her comm badge. “Lieutenant Dax to Major Kira.”

Nerys tapped her badge. “Kira here. Go ahead, lieutenant.”

“Thank you for leading Chief O’Brien around in that maze. I know it must have been awful down there,” Jadzia acknkowledged. Even over the comms, the small, wise smile eminated warmth.

“...It had to be done. If it was able to overload the replicators’ grid, it would have hit life support sooner or later,” Nerys acknowledged with a grunt, popping her lower back with her hands.

“Sounds like you need spinal surgery,” Jadzia laughed.

“I’ll ask Bashir when he’s done playing night nanny,” Nerys grunted as she continued on her way. “Was that all, lieutenant?”

“...I’m almost done for the day, but I’d like to stop by your quarters. Just for a few minutes.”

“Lieutenant, I need a shower, and my back is killing me,” Nerys complained.

“Correct. I know how to help with that. It won’t take long, I promise,” Jadzia assured her, still with that endless patience.

Rolling her eyes, Nerys said, “Fine. I’ll see you at nineteen-fifteen. Kira out.” It took her several minutes before she realized that Jadzia hadn’t explicitly stated if she wanted to help with her shower or her back.

To her relief, she was undisturbed while she cleaned off, but her annoyance bubbled up as she waited for the lieutenant. “Computer, time?”

“Nineteen-eleven.”

Huffing, she instructed. “Computer, locate Lieutenant Dax.”

“Lieutenant Dax is currently located at Major Kira Nerys’ quarters.”

Blinking a few times, Nerys cleared her throat and headed for her door. Sure enough, Jadzia was already outside, eating some strange meat-and-bread sandwich while scanning through a datapad.

For the first time since Nerys had known her, Jadzia jolted in surprise. “Oh, Nerys!”

“...Would you like to come in, Jadzia?”

“Yes, thank you.” As she entered, she explained, “I was early. You instructed nineteen-fifteen, so I didn’t want to impose.”

She wouldn’t admit it to her, but Nerys could relate. “Thank you. What is that?” she wondered, pointing at the woman’s food.

“It’s human food. A hot dog.”

“...Isn’t that a pet?”

“Human language has a lot of words that mean multiple things in different context,” Jadzia explained with a shake of her head. She hastily finished her dinner. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she summarized, “In this case, it’s human food, designed for an old Earth game that Benjamin and I like to watch.”

Shrugging, Kira asked, “You said you could help?” She deduced that, because Jadzia hadn’t brought a bag with her, she wasn’t carrying any hyposprays or other forms of numbing agent.

Nodding, Jadzia moved for the sofa and revealed, “I was a gymnast in a past life. I know a lot about muscle knots. Come, sit.”

Kira followed. “Were you a Bajoran?”

“We have similar skeletal and muscle structures. Now, I have to warn you: This isn’t going to be the kind of massage you would get to relax. I’m going to find your muscle knots and loosen them up with brute force.”

“...I’ve never had a massage of any kind,” Nerys admitted as she sat down.

“Good, then I won’t dash your expectations of oils, candles, and eye candy,” Jadzia laughed as she ran her hand along Nerys’ back.

“What? Why would you have any of that?”

“Massages are supposed to be fun and relaxing. Nice oils give you something to smell, candles set the mood, and… Well, I won’t belabor the point.”

Nerys felt the Trill’s fingers glide across her upper back, locating the bumps. “There. Go back… Right there.”

Jadzia gently massaged it with her fingertips. “Right there?”

“Yes.”

Jadzia took away her fingertips and pressed the knuckle of her hand into it. “Okay, breathe in… And out.”

Nerys obeyed, and a moment later she grunted in pain as Jadzia firmly ground her knuckle into her left shoulder, rubbing slowly as she dug in.

“Trust me. You’ll feel better,” Jadzia soothed as she held Nerys steady.

“I’ve had worse,” Nerys grunted as she bore the discomfort. But she quickly found herself in need of a distraction and asked, “What’s ‘eye candy’?”

“Oh. A human term for good looking individuals, but specifically in the context of sexual desire.”

“...Humans are weird,” Nerys decided. Not only was it impossible for an optic of any kind to desire food, candy was a rare treat and a valuable tool for getting information out of scared children. 

Chuckling, Jadzia moved onto the next muscle knot. “...I prefer Klingons, myself. But now and then you find people like Benjamin.”

Nerys scrunched her lips as Jadzia worked. “...You and the Emissary have been friends for a while?”

“A long while. I met him in my last life, and we had plenty of wild times together. But he’s a good man, and I know he’s going to do right by your people,” Jadzia assured her.

Nerys was no stranger to soft diplomacy and saw the Trill’s attempt for what it was. “I’m sure I’ll see it for myself,” she decided.

With multiple lifetimes of experience and wisdom behind her, Jadzia did not push any further on the matter, only on the Bajoran’s muscle knots. “…Okay, now for your lower back,” she announced, standing up. “Lie down on the floor.”

Nerys turned back to face her. “What?”

“Trust me. Lie down on your stomach,” Jadzia said as she took off one shoe. “I know what I’m doing. I was a gymnast, remember?”

Nerys couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She got down on the floor, resting her cheek against the carpet. “I can throw you off if I have to,” she half-joked, half-warned.

Smiling, Jadzia placed her foot on Nerys’ lower back. “I know you could… If I let you.”

“Oh, really? You wanna-”

“Breathe in.”

Narrowing her eyes, Nerys took a full breath.

“And breathe out slowly,” Jadzia instructed, placing her hand on the wall to balance herself.

Nerys obeyed, while Jadzia slowly pressed down on the woman’s lower back, eventually lifting her other leg off the ground to drive all of her weight into her spine.

Sure enough, Nerys felt several pops. “Oh. Wow,” she gasped in relief. “Can you go up a bit?”

Jadzia was already moving her foot up. “Breathe in…”

Nerys gladly obeyed.

“...And out.”

They did it two more times, until her back was fully massaged.

“Thanks,” Nerys offered as she got back up.

Sitting back down on the sofa, Jadzia collected her shoe. “You’re welcome. I wish I had offered after your first day in the tunnels.”

“Me too, I could have used it!” Nerys laughed.

Smiling, Jadzia explained, “I was worried I might annoy you.”

Blinking, Nerys looked down at the Trill and asked, “...Would you like a glass of wine?”

Jadzia’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please. Bajoran springwine?”

“You know everything,” Nerys scoffed as she retrieved two cups and one of her bottles from her kitchen corner. Opening her cupboard revealed the stacks of grain bags inside, but this did not concern her, as she had accepted Jadzia’s trust on the matter.

“The universe holds many secrets for us to discover.” Jadzia accepted the cup, letting Nerys pour for her. “That’s partly why Jadzia became a science officer… and why I joined with Dax.”

Nerys poured herself a glass. “So am I speaking to Jadzia, or Dax?”

“Always Jadzia,” she easily answered.

Nerys sat down. “...Who’s been flirting with me this whole time?”

Sipping from her cup, Jadzia smirked. “Are you more interested in Jadzia or Dax?”

Nerys wasn’t interested in anyone, but she was starting to like the Trill. “You agreed to keep a secret for me, and I’m thankful. But I’m not interested in jumping into bed with anyone right now.”

“Oh, that wasn’t my intention.” Laughing lightly, Jadzia assured her, “We’re both too busy, and the worm hole is going to occupy a lot of my time for the foreseeable future.”

Blinking, Nerys cocked her head. “So… Why were you flirting with me?”

“Because you’re an attractive person, and I’d love to have dinner with you some time.”

Nerys had never seen anyone be so eloquent in their courtship. All of her past experiences had been very rough and to-the-point before they returned to the fight. “I see.”

“Are you not attracted to Trill?” Jadzia wondered.

“No, it’s not that,” Nerys assured her as she set her cup down. “No one’s been… quite like this with me,” she explained.

Jadzia finished what was left of her wine. “This is new for me, too.”

Nerys raised an eyebrow.

Jadzia smirked. “For me, not Dax. This is nothing new for Dax,” she laughed, patting her gut for emphasis. “...Although, Dax thinks you’re the most interesting person on this station.”

Nerys looked down at where the symbiote lived before returning to those kind, blue eyes. Slowly, she held out her empty cup. “Tell me about Dax?”

Jadzia’s smirk turned into a grin. “Yes, please,” she agreed and reached for the bottle.

“Doctor Bashir to Lieutenant Dax.”

Nerys jolted, but Jadzia hastily tapped her badge. “Yes, doctor?”

“She’s awake, if you want to come see her before I get her next dose ready,” Julian explained.

Nerys had never seen Jadzia freeze from a genuine conflict of interests before. With an understanding smile, she mouthed, “Go.”

Jadzia placed a gentle hand on the woman’s knee and mouthed back, “Thank you.” She promptly announced, “I’ll be right over. Thank you, Julian.” She took her hand off Nerys as she stood up and took off.

Nerys was still on the sofa when Jadzia called out from the doorway, “To be continued!”

Instead of taking a nap, she did just that through prayer to the Prophets. Chief O’Brien also got to live another day, as the next power outage never happened.

Chapter Text

Three days later, Nerys got the report from Odo in his office: One casualty. An elderly Bajoran woman had passed away at 03:37. Rai Sigla, age 89. She had been knocked over during the blip and broken several bones. Doctor Bashir had initially stabilized her and expected a slow recovery, but several days later her health had suddenly deteriorated. She had entered into hospice care the day after Julian had given his report to Commander Sisko.

“No surviving family members. Her body will be collected later today and taken back to Bajor for the appropriate procedures,” Odo explained, half to bring her up to speed and half to comfort her. “…But that does bring me to the original problem: The people are still hoarding.”

Nerys stared at the report, unsure of how to feel about being left out of this. Bajorans had died all around her when she was growing up. She didn’t want to call it entitlement, but she felt certain that she should have been there with this woman, even if she didn’t know her.

“...Major?” he asked, holding out the next datapad.

“Right.” Putting down the report to accept the new one, she asked, “How bad is it?”

“Well, the replicator logs show how bad in terms of kilowatts, and the matter modules are noticeably emptier than they should be… but my problem is that we can’t arrest the whole station,” Odo explained.

Nerys nodded. “I don’t know why they’re still hoarding. We haven’t had a power failure since Chief O’Brien and I caught the jumper.”

“They don’t seem to share your confidence in Chief O’Brien,” Odo assessed.

Grimacing, Nerys handed the datapad back to him. “Send out another reminder that people need to eat as they go, and to dematerialize any unauthorized food they’re storing.”

“I will, but I’m afraid we’ll be having this conversation again soon,” Odo warned.

“If the grid can handle it, I don’t have a problem with it… Let’s not act like Cardassians,” Nerys huffed.

Odo leaned forward at his desk. “Major, I am in complete agreement with you, but if we can’t convince the people to stop, the strain on the grid is going to force people who aren’t you or me to take much harsher action... To say nothing of the vermin that will start feasting and multiplying across the station.”

Nerys held onto the report. “I’ll take it to Sisko. These are Bajorans, isn’t that why the Federation gave me this ceremonial title?”

When Nerys got to Ops, she found that Jadzia -usually in first with Benjamin- was nowhere to be found. She didn’t have time to worry about it, as she brought Sisko up to speed.

For his part, he wanted to align himself as closely to Nerys’ position as he could. “I would like to let this slide and let the people learn for themselves that they can trust us,” he assured her as he leaned back in his desk. “But I’ve already been getting alerts from engineering about the excessive drain on power.”

“Yes, sir. It’s just that… They’re Bajoran, they’ve had to worry about food their whole lives, and-”

“Major, one person has already received fatal injuries from this panic. It will stop.”

“Yes, sir. I can fix this,” she promised. “I’ll figure something out. They’ll listen to me.”

He continued to stare at her for several more moments before suddenly deciding, “I want you to compile a list of solutions for me at our next monthly progress assessment.”

Nerys was surprised that he was going to give her five days. “What happens if you don’t like any of my ideas?” She didn’t see herself as ungrateful, just blunt and pragmatic.

Sisko considered her question before slowly leaning forward and answering, “I will start treating this hoarding like the growing problem that it is. I will lock every resident’s ID to the replicators -even Quark’s- and implement a calorie cap, to be renewed every twenty-four hours. I’ll also have all available security assets go room-by-room confiscating any unauthorized food to be returned to the matter modules, and I’ll have hoarders punished to disincentivize the practice.”

Nerys swallowed hard, clenching her hands behind her back.

Sisko leaned back again. “...That is what will happen, unless you can convince the fine residents of this station to knock it off. Does that answer your question, major?”

“...Yes, sir.”

“...Good. I trust you’ll come up with better ideas. Don’t forget: We have Andorian diplomats coming at thirteen-hundred. Save your appetite. Dismissed.”

“Actually, sir-”

He gave her the kind of stare that she usually gave Bashir when he wouldn’t leave Jadzia alone.

“Will Lieutenant Dax be reporting today?” she pushed.

Sisko shook his head. “She will be taking the day off. I have Lieutenant Bowdler coming up to substitute. You should like him. Very logic-driven and to the point.”

He ended up being technically correct. Lieutenant Bowdler was a human bizarrely adopted by Vulcans. Nerys ended up wishing that Starfleet had sent nothing but Vulcans to help rebuild Bajor.

Nerys got through her long day, pretending to be ever so grateful that the Andorians would be sending supplies, equipment, and scientists to her homeworld. She held her tongue on the real questions like, “You had sixty years, why didn’t you send us weapons?” or “Do you think your harsh condemnation of Cardassia is what convinced them to stop killing us?”

And yet, the facts remained: They were willing to send help now. And that still mattered. Their investments would make a difference for her people. What was left of them.

Nerys found herself on her sofa at the end of the day, alone and festering. She had lost several nights since the occupation ended, arguing with imaginary people over their apathy. Sometimes, it was even her fellow Bajorans, the ones who had foolishly believed they could have a “normal” life if they just pretended that reality didn’t affect them.

She tapped her comm badge. “Major Kira to Lieutenant Dax.” Several moments went by, and Kira started moving for her bed.

“Hi!” Jadzia suddenly announced. “Sorry, I didn’t have my comm badge on me.”

Kira stopped. “It’s okay. I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“Not yet,” Jadzia assured her. “I’ve been busy. What’s up?”

“I just… I’m not putting my window to use. I thought we might talk.”

“I would like that,” Jadzia said with a smile. “I actually have something for you.”

When Nerys let her in, the something turned out to be a large, flat container painted grey. Nerys was less interested in the gift. This was the first time she had seen Jadzia out of uniform, choosing to wear a dark blue outfit with matching pants.

“Do you like it?” Jadzia asked, giving her a twirl.

“It looks good on you,” Nerys admitted. “But I bet that’s hardly a challenge for a girl like you.”

“Girl? You sweet-talker! Besides, you’re one to talk,” Jadzia laughed as she carried the container, almost as tall as her, over to Nerys’ bed. “I saw a little red number in Garak’s shop last week, and I immediately thought of you.”

Nerys rolled her eyes. “No thanks.”

“You already saw it?”

“You know I haven’t. What’s this for?” she asked, knocking her knuckles on the device.

Jadzia said, “It’s an old aid safe, designed for medical supplies; but I took out the dividing pads. They’re perfect for storing grain.”

Nerys froze.

Jadzia slid it under Nerys’ bed. “And a perfect fit. You can hold a hundred bags in just one of these if you stack them vertically.” Getting to her feet, she said, “Julian normally sends them back empty, but Starfleet won’t mind if one goes missing.”

Nerys slowly nodded. “...Thanks.”

Jadzia pointed to her kitchen corner. “I thought you’d prefer to use your storage space for other things.” Shrugging, she happily announced, “And if not, I can put it back just as easily as I took it out, if you prefer.”

Nerys hated herself for realizing that she could store even more grain instead. “...You heard about Rai Sigla?”

Jadzia dropped her smile. “Yes. And I had spoken to her a few times before the blip. She was a lot like you.”

Nerys turned away, heading over to her kitchen corner. “Bitter and hard?”

Jadzia gently knelt down by the bed and removed the container lid. “...Determined and caring.” She popped it open and asked, “Toss them to me?”

Blinking, Nerys looked down at the bag of grain in her hands and sighed. “Is she why you took the day off?” she asked, tossing the bag to Jadzia.

Jadzia caught it and placed it in the container. “Yes. We weren’t close, but I thought very highly of her and will miss her. Did you know she was only twenty-eight when Cardassia attacked?”

“...No.”

They got into a rythem, with Nerys tossing and Jadzia catching.

“She had been an accountant by trade, but she loved to paint. She showed me some of her recent pieces. It won’t surprise you, but all of her work was destroyed by the Cardassians,” Jadzia explained. “She had one husband before the attack, and he was killed in the opening stages of the invasion. She had two children who were taken and later killed. She never found out what happened to her parents and sister, and I wasn’t willing to find out without telling her; she said she didn’t want to know… She married again, but he was executed in a retaliatory slaughter for an orbital drydock being destroyed. It was a lottery. They were both in it, and he lost.”

Nerys’ heart bled, just as it did for all who had perished. “Thank you for being with her,” she whispered as she brought the last bag over to Jadzia.

Jadzia accepted it, placing it in the container and locking it up. “It was my honor,” she said as she slid the box under Nerys’ bed. “Nobody should be alone at the end.”

“...She had Doctor Bashir,” Nerys grunted as she moved to the sofa.

“Julian doesn’t count. He’s the doctor,” Jadzia decided with a smirk. She stood up and joined Nerys on the sofa. “I wasn’t able to get much from Sigla. She spent the last two days fully unconscious. But I got enough, and I think I’ve got a good eulogy for her.”

Nerys looked up at her, swallowing dryly. “...You wrote her one?”

Jadzia nodded. “Would you like to review it?”

Nerys didn’t know if she wanted to read it or burn it.

Jadzia warned, “Sigla gave up her faith in the Prophets, so I don’t know if you-”

Nerys shot up. “Why are you like this?” she demanded as she paced over to her kitchen.

“Like what?”

“Why do you pretend to care about everyone?” Nerys demanded as she grabbed a cup and her springwine.

Jadzia finally let her smile fall. “...I’m not pretending. I do.”

“That’s not possible!” Nerys assured her. “People die all the time! You can’t stop and cry for every single one of them!”

Jadzia did not move, keeping one leg crossed over the other. “I don’t want her to be forgotten.”

“She wasn’t your friend! You didn’t know her!” Nerys poured herself a glass and downed half of it before realizing she wanted something stronger.

“...She enjoyed my company, and I enjoyed hers.”

Nerys grabbed her Romulan ale. “You’re not even Bajoran!”

“Very true. And I never will be.” Jadzia finally stood up. “Nerys, part of why I volunteered for this job is because I have a strong desire to befriend everyone. Even before Dax, I was always a social adhesive. That’s just part of being Trill.”

Nerys stared down at her empty cup, eyes watering.

“...But we both know that’s not why you’re upset,” Jadzia murmured as she placed a gentle hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “Sit down with me.”

Nerys allowed herself to be pulled over to the sofa.

“Is it because Julian didn’t tell you? You said so yourself, a patient can keep these matters as private as they want,” Jadzia gently reminded her.

Nerys only shook her head, unwilling to speak.

As gentle as the breeze, Jadzia moved her hand to cover Nerys’. For the first time, she realized that Trill had cold skin. “...Sisko needs me to get them all to stop hoarding. They killed her, because they panicked,” Nerys whispered.

Jadzia considered the implications of all that had transpired, and how Nerys might be feeling about herself. “It was terrible, and even worse: It was unnecessary,” she agreed, just as softly as her hand. “But let us not mourn her with regret. Sigla was so kind, and so happy to live to see her world freed of tyranny. She said I was welcome to visit whenever she got her housing unit assigned.”

Nerys looked over at her and saw that Jadzia, who had never even snapped at anyone in frustration, was also on the verge of tears. “...We don’t invite strangers into our homes,” Nerys remembered.

Jadzia smiled. “No, you don’t. And I made sure she knew I was honored.” She started to chuckle. “That’s actually how I found out… I asked her if she would like me to accompany her to prayer, and she told me she no longer practiced.”

“...What’s so funny about that?” Nerys wondered.

Jadzia waved her away, having to take her hand off Nerys’ hand to do so. “It’s nothing.”

“No, come on. What did she really say?”

“I shouldn’t-”

“Jadzia!” Nerys demanded, starting to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Laughing, Jadzia sighed, “She told me… that if the Prophets even were real, then they were a bunch of Denebian slime devils.”

Nerys was frozen in place for several moments before she started to laugh.

Jadzia had to laugh with her. “It’s not her fault. Old people can be very rude.”

That just made Nerys laugh harder.

Later that night, Nerys read Jadzia’s eulogy, sending it back with a few corrections on the grammar for the Bajoran family lineage and a comment calling for the removal of the Prophets being mentioned. If Rai Sigla had chosen to remove the Prophets from her life, than even an academic reference should not be made to them in her death, she explained.

Jadzia sent a note back thanking her, before sending it on its way to the Department of Final Resting, the Bajoran Provisional Government’s busiest department, which had many years of work ahead of it.

Five days later, during a lull in Ops, Nerys watched Jadzia have a four minute conversation with a Vulcan scientist whom she had known two lives ago, who had still not gotten around to seeing some Human called Shakespeare in his original Klingon translation. Somehow, she logically convinced him to review it before he returned to Vulcan, and to send her his thoughts when he had time.

“Live long and prosper, Dax.”

But Dax had already done so, and Dax would continue to do so. Even after everyone in Ops was dead. Nerys couldn’t believe it. This Trill really did care about everyone, in some way or another.

When Jadzia saw him off and returned to her post, Nerys finally asked her if she was still open to dinner.