UBI SUNT QUI ANTE NOS FUERUNT
Where beth they beforen us weren,
Houndes ladden and havekes beren,...?
They beren hem well swithe heye,
And, in a twinkling of an eye,
Hoere soules weren forloren.
--Anon (later 13th
Where are they,
before us, led hounds and bore hawks ...?
They bore themselves very loftily,
and in the twinkling of an eye, their souls were lost.
Jadzia tried unsuccessfully to stifle the yawn that strained at her
jaw. Yielding to the inevitable, she stood up. "I am tired. The
a wonderful experience, but it did stir up a lot of repressed memories.
The past few days of coming to terms with them was more draining than I
had realized. I think I will turn in."
She stood up and clasped her hands behind her back. "Good night,
Benjamin slid his lips apart over his broadly grinning white teeth.
"Good idea. Now, why didn't I think of that?" he teased.
Jadzia cocked an eyebrow at him. "I suppose you just don't know me well
enough to pick up on these subtle nuances," she joked back.
He laughed and walked her to the door. "Get some sleep. Ops won't fall
apart without you." He looked around the floor and pretended to
reconsider. "At least, not in one day," he said with a smile.
She brushed his hand affectionately and strode across the ops deck to
ride the lift back to the residential ring.
Sleep came easily enough, but rest was more elusive, for with the sleep
came the visions of an earlier time and of a life not in any way hers.
She knew who he was of course. Anyone living in that time would have
recognized him instantly. Almost anyone living afterward would have
recognized him just as well. Old legends never die; they only become
better known with time.
He played with a towel, played with his body, ran it knowingly
his neck, his shoulders, his chest. His body glistened and gleamed,
still wet from the shower. He tugged the towel purposefully, once,
twice across his neck. "Yes, Mr. Spock, what can I do for you?" When
James Kirk smiled, his whole face shone. "Yes, Mr. Spock, what can I do
for you?" He dropped the towel and strode forward.
But the towel didn't fall away. Instead, as if guided by unseen hands,
it twisted and tightened inexorably around his neck. His eyes closed.
His breath retreated. The gash in his chest pulsed a little less with
each waning beat of his heart. Like an offering spread out against an
altar, his body laid itself beside the rocky cairn and died. An ashen
hand fell to the side. Yes, Mr. Spock, what can I do for you?
Then the body rolled over onto its side. It began to breathe, in and
out, chest up and down, in the deep, full beautiful rhythm of sleep.
For a long while she just watched him breathe. Then he rolled over and
faced her full on. His face was older than she remembered. He reached
for her hand. "This simple feeling," he said and he reached out into
She reached for him, but he wasn't there. Her hand seemed to pass right
through. Desperate now he mouthed something at her, but he couldn't be
heard though the soundproof environmental suit he wore. He pawed at her
with his hand over and over, but it seemed to pass right through as
insubstantial as if it had never even happened.
And then he was gone. "Forget," a voice whispered in her head.
She stared at the spot where he had been.
"Yes, Mr. Spock, what can I do for you?" his voice rang in one ear.
"Jim!" A new voice rang hopeful and fresh in the other.
"This simple feeling." The sound mixed with Kirk's smile and
flooded her entire mind. Its brilliance rose until it was as bright as
day waking Jadzia with a start.
Her heart pounded a mile a minute. Where had this renegade vision come
from? Only one logical answer occurred. She leapt from the bed. Her
panties were slippery but she paid that no heed.
"Dax to ops."
"Ops. Major Kira here." Kira's crisp tones sounded refreshingly
"Kira, has the Trill ship left yet?"
"Twenty minutes ago, Dax."
"Call them back," she demanded, hastily donning her uniform.
"Kira, put in a call to the Guardian. Tell him he needs to come back.
Tell him there was another host. And, Kira," the thought still reeled
around in her head,"I think that it was Captain Kirk!"
By the time the time the Trill ship was back at the docking pylon,
Jadzia was dressed and composed. Back in the designated room, together
they brewed the ancient broth and stoked the flame and when he touched
her abdomen the customary shock of electric blue erupted communicating
Trill to Trill. And then all was silence. The Guardian stood in wonder.
"So?" Jadzia asked expectantly.
"It is not another host," the Guardian explained, "but another kind of
essence entirely. I have never encountered anything like it."
"Is it James Kirk?"
"I cannot say. I have little experience with humans. But it is
certainly a life force not of Trill. It is a most potent alien
consciousness joined with the symbiont. It may well present a danger to
the balance. This issue must be resolved and reported to the
"Reported?" Jadzia said with mild alarm. "Those are my memories and
some of them are quite personal."
"They are not your memories at all," the Guardian said. "That is the
point. They appear to have been artificially joined to the symbiont
mind outside of any actual host experience. Those memories are not of
Trill at all. If the Dax symbiont has been infected with an alien
consciousness it must be treated; that is our primary responsibility.
You are well aware of that."
"And if it is not an infection but a voluntary and healthy joining?"
The Guardian considered. "Then the sequella must be assessed."
Jadzia said, "Captain Kirk died over seventy-five years ago. Surely if
he has been with us all this time--"
The Guardian interrupted, "As I said, that remains to be assessed."
"We must have yet another volunteer. A fresh one so there is no cross
contamination. One with a mind able to tolerate--stressful
circumstances and powerful personalities. One not afraid of potentially
hostile alien influences."
And so Jadzia found herself standing on the promenade in the middle of
"Ah, Lieutenant Dax. What an unexpected pleasure. Looking to change
your image are we? Perhaps a little chintz for those off-duty hours? I
see you in sort of a pale artichoke, I think. Or perhaps a misty sea
"Actually, Garak, I need your help in another way. Would you come with
me please? I would like to borrow your body for a little while."
Benjamin came running as soon as he got the call. For a chance to meet
James Kirk in the flesh, in anyone's flesh, who wouldn't? He was only
one of thousands, maybe millions who had never quite believed that a
man like that could die. As he hastened down the corridors he thought
of Curzon's swagger, his magnetism, his certain way with the ladies. He
thought of Jadzia's cool competence, her poise, and her sense of honor
and he wondered if perhaps he hadn't met more of Kirk than he already
Odo was already there of course. Having been the savior of the galaxy
or no, Odo was taking no chances. And so when Benjamin came through the
door, they were ready to begin.
One hand on Dax, the other on Garak, the Guardian guided the
transference. The electrical blue current rose up from her belly and
ran through the Trill to Garak. Garak jumped back in surprise.
Odo watched him like a hawk. Benjamin moved in near to help.
Garak's body calmed and his eyes opened again. Calmly he counted the
pips on Benjamin's collar. "Thank you, Commander, I am quite recovered
Benjamin stayed his hands and he surveyed the man before him. "I see.
Captain James Kirk, I presume."
Garak's voice lilted, "No. I am Ambassador Spock."
Confused glances darted around the room.
Odo knew exactly what to say. "Ambassador Spock was executed on Romulus
almost three years ago," he said flatly.
"The body of Spock was vaporized by a disruptor blast on Romulus,"
Spock said precisely. "His katra, everything that was not of the body
was placed into Curzon Dax."
"The mind meld!" exclaimed Jadzia. "So that's what you meant."
Spock turned to her. "Yes. And I presume that you are the new host of
the Dax symbiont?"
"Yes." Jadzia extended her hand. "Jadzia Dax."
"Indeed." Spock continued ignoring the proffered hand. "Yes, my katra
has been within the symbiont all along, unfortunately there was not
enough time to relay full information. I apologize for any difficulties
this has caused."
"I haven't been aware of any," Jadzia said, inclining an eyebrow
slightly and letting her arm fall to her side.
The Guardian interceded, "And yet there may be problems that we know
not of. He is not of Trill. This transference is not the full force of
a life which has gone before. This transference is of another world.
While his essence may influence the Dax being as a whole, it is
submerged deeply under the weight of the others and only surfaces
briefly now due to the stirring and reorganization that accompanies the
zhian'tara. I cannot predict how long this moment of interface will
last. We must learn what we can from him now. But if the joining has
indeed been symbiotic and in balance for years, there will be no
objection to allowing it to continue.
"I will leave you alone for a few hours or as long as the separation
lasts." The Guardian swept from the room.
"I'll be right outside if you need me, old man. Ambassador." Benjamin
glanced once between the body of Garak and his long time friend and he
too left the room.
"I too will be *right* outside the door." Odo stressed the word
significantly with a glance to the Cardassian. "Ambassador," he said,
sounding not at all convinced, in the manner of all good security men,
and backed reluctantly out the door.
Jadzia locked her wrists behind her back and looked the Cardassian up
and down. "So, you are Ambassador Spock."
He appeared to attempt to cock an eye, but the bony plate wouldn't
budge. "Obviously not. I am the katra of Spock housed temporarily in
the body of Elim Garak. I apologize for the importunity of our last
With Curzon's memories freshly restored to her, Dax acutely recalled
that day three years ago.
Curzon had had Mital, a pretty young thing utterly under the spell of
his charms. Arm in arm they strolled the corridors of the Klingon
embassy on Romulus. With a wink and a nudge he pulled her into a side
door, which turned out to be the entrance to a ventilation control
Curzon cooed, "So, my dear, has anyone ever told you how that harness
brings out the sensual ripple of your muscles?"
Then there was the blast of a disruptor and Mital unholstered her
disrupter and dropped to a crouch. There was the sound of more shots
fired and a ventilation panel fell to the floor. An aging Vulcan in
stealth combat attire rolled out of a ceiling duct. He knocked Mital
over as he emerged, quickly subdued her with a neck pinch and climbed
to his feet.
It was Spock, the leader of the underground defection movement. Curzon
had met him years before when Spock was still a Federation ambassador
in good standing. Spock's eyes darted around the room sparing only a
moment for recognition and then moving on to the only door. He made a
dash for it but as soon as it cracked open the unmistakable clang of
boots and body armor rang from the corridor. Spock sealed the door as
another disruptor blast sounded from overhead.
"Ambassador Dax," Spock said moving swiftly towards him, "you are a
joined Trill, are you not?"
For one of the few times in his life Curzon found himself at a loss for
words. "Yes," he managed, barely.
"Good," Spock said as the first disruptor blast hit the door. "I have
need of your mind."
With no further ceremony Spock reached for his head. The battalion
burst through the door. Curzon threw up his hands in the universal
gesture of surrender. Spock turned calmly to face the troops. A single
shot was fired. The Vulcan vanished before his eyes.
Two soldiers grabbed him and yanked him aside. Two more dropped down to
Mital and pulled her to her feet. The leader barked into a comm.
"Commander, we have found the ringleader. Unfortunately he was killed
attempting to escape. He was apprehended with the Trill ambassador and
his concubine under suspicious circumstances. They are being taken for
And then Curzon had been lead off in restraints.
Ultimately Curzon had talked his way out of that mess too, as he had so
many others. Everyone needed a talent in life and the gift of gab had
always been his.
Back on his shuttle when he was finally set free, the rest had become
merely a blur. His pilot had turned to him and asked where they were
off to next.
"Risa, I think," Curzon had said. "Yes, definitely Risa. Suddenly I
feel like I haven't gotten laid in nearly a century. And while we're
talking, why don't you just move over; I'll drive."
"You?" the pilot exclaimed in mild alarm. "You haven't piloted in--"
"Sure, me. Don't look so surprised," said Curzon cracking his knuckles.
"I still have my master's certificate; the papyrus hasn't completely
disintegrated yet and I have the sudden urge to take the old girl for a
Reluctantly the pilot got up and moved to the side. Curzon slid in and
fired up the impulse drive to a perfectly calculated quarter thrust.
Feeling the power pulse at his touch he cocked one eyebrow.
"Fascinating," he had said and slid his long fingers down the controls.
Jadzia laughed softly. "Don't worry. It was pretty rare for someone to
get the upper hand on Curzon. This was worth it. But I confess," her
voice lowered almost instinctively, as one does in a sanctuary or on
hallowed ground, "I don't understand. Why are my dreams of James Kirk?"
Garak's scales shimmered softy in the dim light of the flame. Perhaps,
after all these long years the same realization was only now dawning
upon Spock himself. When he spoke his own voice was almost too quiet to
be heard. It was the inner voice of someone speaking more to himself
than aloud. "Perhaps it is because my own dreams were always of him as
Jadzia eyed him carefully. "You were intimate?"
"Yes," he said, eyes turned within himself.
"I see," she said.
Jadzia smiled. "I like that. To think that a part of me was the lover
"We were not lovers," Spock corrected flatly.
"Pardon?" Jadzia blinked.
"You asked if we were intimate. We were as intimate as it is possible
for any two disparate souls to be. But we were never lovers, never as
you use the term."
"Why not?" Jadzia blurted.
Garak's body shifted from foot to foot. A telling silence filled the
room but his face didn't change at all. Finally he said, "Surely it
makes no difference now. He is dead and Spock is dead. How can it
matter to anyone now?"
"Really?" Jadzia asked incredulously. "After all those years?" The look
on Garak's face stopped her cold. She changed the subject--a bit--and
walked around the flame.
"You know, Spock, Captain Kirk was a most amazing man. He had first
contact with more species than almost anyone in Federation history. He
was legendary for his understanding, for transcending the differences
between races, between people, between men. Are you so sure he wasn't
waiting for you to be ready? Waiting for you all along?"
Jadzia studied the face of the enigmatic tailor she had lived along
side of for over five years now. His expression flickered and danced,
in the pale firelight. Paradoxically his face seemed to change with
every capricious whim of the little ritual flame and yet, as always, it
revealed absolutely nothing everytime. Eventually, mercifully, she
"Anyway, Spock isn't really dead; that is evident as you stand here
having this conversation. Surely we at least have that to discuss. This
'katra' of yours, how does it work?"
Spock cleared Garak's throat and he continued mechanically, as in the
manner of a lecture. "It is not the continuance of life or
consciousness as you understand it; it cannot be. While a Vulcan katra
may be contained within a joined life, it will never be a
constitutional component of it as a native host is. The Guardian is
correct; my manifestation here to you is most limited. As the other
host memories resettle after the zhian'tara, Spock's katra will no
longer be accessible in a recognizable manner. It was never my
intention to remain here.
"At the time, it was my intention to instruct Curzon to return my katra
to Vulcan and deposit it in the Hall of Ancient Thought. However there
was not time to relay this information. I have since that time
reconsidered. I can conceive of little worse than so long and empty an
existence. I would now ask that you release my katra unto the void."
"Released. That sounds final," Jadzia observed.
"It is," Spock said. "My life is over and has been for some time. There
is nothing I wish less than to prolong emptiness. Nothing remains for
me here anymore. I was a fool to believe otherwise. "
Jadzia raised one eyebrow and studied him, hard. "I have heard you
called many things, sir, but never a fool. Are you so sure it's over? I
have lived three hundred and fifty years now and still things continue
to amaze me. Perhaps you should consider a third alternative. Perhaps
you should stay with us."
"With us?" he asked dully. In 139.428 years of life there had been only
one other he had ever wished to bond with and in 139.428 years, somehow
he had failed to find the time. Curious. And most tragic. A Vulcan
would not feel the pain, but a Cardassian could. He bit firmly down on
Garak's tongue until the sharp tang of alien blood filled his mouth. He
faced the wall and clasped his wrists behind his back. He forced his
mind firmly away from those thoughts and back only to the words she
spoke. When he was ready, he turned back to the room.
Dax patted her abdomen. "With the lives that you have joined already.
Although much has passed you by, you may be surprised to find that much
Spock considered, "According to your Guardian, continuing the joining
may not be advisable."
A vibrant memory pulsed through her mind.
"Dax, Dax!" Pintan had come jogging down the hallway after her. "A helm
position just opened up on the Evermore. It's a starship, Dax! Admiral
Brackett says it's yours if you want it! A starship--you're getting a
starship--wheeewhooo!" Pintan had picked her up and swung her around
right there in the hallway.
Jadzia had gently but firmly disentangled herself from his grasp and
settled herself back on the ground. "I heard, but I'm not taking it."
"You're what?" He had stared back in abject dismay.
"I've decided to hold out for a science posting. I have four highly
specialized degrees that I have worked hard for and I want to use them.
It would be senseless for me to waste all that time and training. So I
have already told the admiral 'thank you very much, but no thank you.'"
"Dax, you're out of your mind! Everyone I know would kill for a
But she had just cocked her head, declared it logical and walked away
with her hands locked neatly behind her back.
Jadzia smiled quietly. "No, I don't think there'll be any objection.
Frankly, Mr. Spock, it seems that we're made for each other."
Garak opened an eyelid wide. The bony ridges held irritatingly firm.
"I do have one request, though." Jadzia's eyes twinkled as she spoke.
"Before you go, you know, back inside of me, would you tell me what it
was like to run around Iotia in a hat and a tweed suit with a
submachine gun tucked under your arm? I bet it was a blast." She
quirked her mouth at him and winked.
This time she could have sworn she saw a ridge rise up an inch.
When the Guardian returned, the reversal dissipated the katra as if it
had never been. There were no more dreams, no more visions, no more
memories. It was often as if the entire event had never occurred. And
yet as the tall dark woman stood in the mirror and smoothed her hair
straight back over her science uniform, she never doubted it for a
Once she did try to speak to Garak about it. He swore he didn't
remember a thing. Except that he did think she would look smashing in
sea green chiffon.
But time passed and as fate would have it they were to meet again two
years later or 103 years earlier. Arne Darvin went back in time and put
a bomb in a tribble to sabotage the Federation, so Dax and Sisko
followed him back to find it and undo the damage.
Uhura's voice rang across the bridge. She insisted, "Well, Cyrano Jones
says that a tribble is the only love that money can buy."
Captain James T. Kirk replied firmly, "Too much of anything,
Lieutenant, even love, isn't necessarily a good thing."
"Yes, Captain." Uhura accepted the tribbles he heaped into her arms.
"Have a maintenance crew to clean up the entire ship and then contact
Mr. Lurry and tell him I'm beaming down. Tell him to find Cyrano Jones
and hold him."
"Aye," Uhura mumbled around the stylus.
"And get these tribbles off the bridge." Kirk sighed patiently as he
and Spock made for the turbo lift together. Seeing her chance, Dax
dashed from the engineering station and threw herself into the lift
Ignoring Kirk she pressed her body full against Spock. She pushed the
Dax symbiont up as close against him as she could, then grabbed his
head. He only realized she was not human when he found he could not
wrest himself from her grip. The blue sparks of symbiotic communication
flew from her hands and some vestigial trace awakened deep within him
when she stared in to his eyes and said, "You have to tell him, you
know. There is never as much time as you think. One day it will be too
Confused, Kirk was moving in behind her. He put his hands on his
shoulders as if to wrest her away, but she stood firm. She strained up
on tiptoe and kissed Spock full upon the lips. The blue sparks crackled
between them and the katric memories surged and flared bright and new.
Jadzia lowered her hands. Spock looked at her with perfect
Behind her Kirk demanded tersely, "Lieutenant--?"
The turbolift door swished open. Benjamin stood in the doorway.
Dax turned, caught between the captains.
Spock restrained his own captain with a hand on his chest. He said
coolly, "Lieutenant, Dax, is it?"
Jadzia replied, "Yes, Mr. Spock. It is."
"Rest assured, I shall begin work on your proposition at once."
Dax spun away, hands behind her back, "Thank you, sir."
As the lift door slid closed she watched the Vulcan's hand fall gently
down the front of the captain's chest. The most curious expression
replaced the human's scowl as the fingertips traveled from breast to
belly. And then the door closed and they were gone from view forever.
Jadzia smiled quietly inside herself.
Ben surveyed her severely. "Dax, what was that all about?"
"Nothing, Benjamin," she said innocently. "Just making suggestions for
where to look."