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deepspacedukat · 3 years ago

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The Only One - Part 4: Bajor’s Hand And An Urge

Obviously, this fic is an AU of some description, so don’t expect it to adhere too strictly to the plots of the episodes mentioned. I only did spoiler warnings because there are certain elements of those episodes that are included in this chapter. ALSO, this chapter is somewhere around 9300 words long, so um...be prepared for a long read. Part 4 is cross-posted to AO3 here.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 5 here. Part 6 here.

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Weyoun 5 (ST:DS9) x Reader

[A/N: Spoilers for S3E1&2 “The Search” Parts 1&2, S3E21 “The Die Is Cast,” and S5E25 “In The Cards”. If you haven’t seen those episodes yet, you’ve been warned. Also there will be smut in future parts and there are some mentions of nsfw adjacent-ish things in this chapter, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Mostly feelings, angst, pining, Woun being an adorable Vorta muffin, instinct-driven pilgrimages, and some empathic bullshit that you’re just gonna have to deal with, because it makes me happy okay???? It’s my story, and it’ll give me pain and serotonin in turns if I want it to. *insert “It is law” gif here mentally cuz I’m too lazy to do it myself*

~*~

About two and a half months later, I overheard a conversation between Captain Sisko and Major Kira detailing the impending arrival of a Dominion ship for the purpose of conducting diplomatic talks with Kai Winn. As I stood at my station in Ops, I felt a little thrill of hope. The Dominion had more than one Vorta, of course, but I couldn’t help but hope that maybe Weyoun would be assigned to this mission. My console chirped at me, and I saw an incoming transmission.

“I’m receiving a subspace transmission from a Dominion ship for you, Captain,” I called, and at his request, I redirected it to his office. Before I could do so much as begin to eavesdrop, Major Kira ordered Dax to send the Dominion ship to docking bay three. It was mere moments before Captain Sisko re-emerged and walked over to my station.

“I’d like you to join me at the airlock,” he said, and at my confused sounding ‘yes, sir’ he smiled. “You seem to have more of a tolerance for the Vorta than I do. It might be best if you’re there to smooth things over.”

“Yes, sir,” I acknowledged, and ignoring the buzz of anticipation that went through me at the possibility, I went to the turbolift with my C.O. The walk to the docking bay was both too long and too short all at the same time. Clasping my hands behind my back to hide how they were shaking, I stood at attention at one side as we reached the airlock door. I felt as nervous as a cadet on their first assignment. The door to the airlock began to roll open and I took a deep breath.

He was here. Weyoun was back! As he stepped through the doorway and caught sight of me, his polite smile previously directed at the Captain morphed into a real one. Surprise and elation flitted across his features as I couldn’t stop a smile from splitting my lips wide. He was here, he was really here! Even the two Jem’Hadar guards looming behind him couldn’t stifle my joy.

“Captain, Lieutenant, it is such a pleasure to see you both again,” he gushed taking one of my hands in his and bringing it to his lips with a dramatic flourish and a wink. My cheeks burned knowing that my commanding officer had witnessed the gesture, but after he’d seen us holding hands in Quark’s, I doubted he was surprised.

“I wish I could say the same,” Captain Sisko said sardonically, and Weyoun let out a small laugh.

“How delightful! You feel comfortable enough around me to make jokes. I’m so pleased to see our relationship evolving beyond the stale adversarial stage,” he said facing the Captain with a slightly more diplomatic smile.

“No, it’s not. But before you twist that into a compliment, let me be blunt. I don’t like the Dominion, I don’t like what it stands for, and I don’t like you,” Sisko said, and Weyoun’s smile fell slowly away. “So, let’s dispense with the hollow pleasantries and stick to business.”

“I can’t tell you how much it pains me to hear you say that, Captain. You see, I really like Deep Space Nine, I like you, and I’m quite fond of the Lieutenant here,” he said with a small smile directed my way. “After this meeting with Kai Winn, I think you and I will be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“Lieutenant, escort Weyoun to the conference room to await the Kai’s arrival,” the Captain said, completely ignoring the Vorta’s statement as he gestured down the corridor.

“If you’ll come with me, sir,” I said giving Weyoun a warm smile as I saw his eyes flick over to meet mine. As the two of us began to make our way there, I took a chance and linked my arm with Weyoun’s. He looked at me with delighted surprise. “For what it’s worth, I’m quite fond of you, too.”

“Believe me, my dear, it means a great deal to me,” the Vorta said as he waved his Jem’Hadar guards back a few feet to give us some privacy to speak without being overheard. “You look lovely as usual. I trust you’ve been treated well?”

“Of course I have. Deep Space Nine is my home,” I intoned with a slight huff of laughter. “What about you? How’ve you been?”

“Oh, quite well, my dear, though I...” he drew us both to a stop in a quiet alcove of an empty corridor and turned to face me. He seemed almost nervous as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I must admit, I’ve felt the lack of your presence keenly over the time I’ve been away.”

There was something just beneath the surface as he spoke – something was begging to burst forth from his lips, yet he held it back, whatever it was. Perhaps it was the same thing I didn’t dare admit to myself.

“Being around you...steadies me,” he admitted, and that statement felt a bit closer to the truth. We’d both been dancing around it for so long, that forbidden feeling that had been building since the day we met. I’d felt drawn to Weyoun from the moment I laid eyes on him. What remained to be seen was whether that was just the Founder’s genetic programming or if there really was something more.

“I know exactly what you mean,” I answered in a weighted sort of voice. He was adept at reading me. I could only hope he could see what it was that I was trying to communicate beyond these oh-so-inadequate words. With a soft smile, Weyoun brushed a few strands of hair behind my ear, letting the pads of his fingers skim over its outer edge and sending a light shiver through me as my cheeks heated from the attention. It was such a little thing, that touch, but it felt as though electricity had surged through me at every point of contact. At the awkward shuffling of Jem’Hadar feet behind us, I let out a slightly nervous laugh and averted my gaze from Weyoun’s. “We shouldn’t be late for your visit with the Kai...”

“No, indeed,” he agreed with a mischievous little gleam in his eye. Surely he had known what he was doing to me? I was convinced of his attempt to fluster me even as he linked our arms once again and we resumed our trek to the conference room that had been assigned for the diplomatic talks. “Are you familiar with the Kai?”

“We’ve met once or twice before. She’s...” I trailed off searching for the right way to describe her while still remaining polite. “She’s determined and...let’s just say she’s...not my favorite person to be around if you catch my drift.”

“Oh my. She must have done something truly odious to have garnered such distaste from you of all people,” Weyoun murmured sounding slightly amused. “Any pointers?”

“Now now, you know the Federation has a non-interference policy,” I said in a mock-chastising tone. “I can’t give you any advantages, much as I might dislike the Kai.”

“Ah, yes. The ‘Prime Directive.’ I’d nearly forgotten about that. My apologies, I didn’t mean to ask for more than you’re at liberty to say,” he said with an amused smile. “At least answer me this: will I need earplugs?”

“Undoubtedly,” I remarked, to which Weyoun winced. Much sooner than I’d have liked, we reached the doors to the conference room. I thought he’d leave me there, but I was wrong.

“Guard the doors,” the Vorta called to the two Jem’Hadar, who dutifully took up their places as I was pulled inside the room in question. As soon as the doors hissed closed, Weyoun brought both my hands to his lips and looked at me with an expression that was so openly joyful it brought a tear to my eye. “Forgive my presumptuous behavior, but I refuse to see the Kai without a moment alone with you. I truly did miss you, my dear.”

“I missed you, too. Perhaps when the first round of talks is done we can get together for dinner? After all, I did promise to teach you kal-toh,” I suggested, and Weyoun’s smile split even wide – a feat I hadn’t imagined possible.

“That sounds wonderful!” He exclaimed as the doors slid open to reveal the Kai. Seeing our position, she raised an eyebrow and gave me a blatantly false smile, even as Weyoun kept talking. “As soon as we conclude for the night, I’ll come to your quarters.”

I was torn between happiness at getting to see more of the Vorta and mortified at what Kai Winn must think given her lack of context. On the one hand, she might see this as sleeping with the enemy, but on the other, I couldn’t quite see why it should even matter in the first place. So what if a Bajoran spiritual leader read further into a conversation than she should? I knew the truth.

“Goodness, child. You keep some...exotic company,” she said in her usual poisonously, falsely pleasant tone. She reminded me of a passive-aggressive nun for what was definitely not the first time. “You may leave now.”

The annoyance that flitted over Weyoun’s features was quickly masked by a too-polite-to-be-real smile. I gave him a small nod and made my way to the door.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, child?” I paused at the sound of Winn’s voice and turned slightly toward her with a curious raise of an eyebrow. “You seem to have mislaid your loyalty and self-respect.”

Not wanting to create a diplomatic incident, I laughed like she’d made a mildly-amusing joke.

“Very good, Your Imminence. You had me going for a moment,” I said before exiting the room with my head held high. For a split second, I wondered how out-of-commission I’d be if I were ever to tell Kai Winn what I actually thought of her. No, she wasn’t worth the trouble I’d be in. I could only hope I’d be able to avoid her for the remainder of her stay on the station.

Several hours later when I covered a sick officer’s shift, I could have cried. Reluctantly, I’d made sure to send a note to Weyoun to let him know I couldn’t make our dinner engagement, but it pained me to have to cancel our plans. Of all the days for somebody to catch the Thelusian flu, it just had to be when Weyoun was finally back on the station, didn’t it? If I tapped away at my console in Ops a little more vigorously than was required, surely that wasn’t my fault. First Kai Winn’s remarks, and now this emergency late shift. Anyone would be frustrated in my position...right?

“Everything alright, Lieutenant?” O’Brien called with an amused, pointed glance between my console and myself.

“Yes, sir. I had a conversation with Kai Winn earlier, that’s all.” I may have conveniently left out the bit about Weyoun and dinner, but he didn’t need to know about that. A bark of sympathetic laughter came from the Chief Engineer as he moved toward a panel he needed to service.

“Ah, lemme guess: she decided something yeh said or did was fer the common folk and turned her nose up, right?” At my nod of confirmation, he shook his head. “Don’t let it get teh yeh. She’d judge even a Vedek as pond scum if it suited her fancy. She’s not worth yer energy. She’ll come off her high horse eventually.”

“Thanks, Chief. I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied with a smile. The jovial Irishman always did know what to say to cheer me up. We’d been working for barely a few minutes more when the lift arrived carrying Odo, who was holding a small bouquet of purple and white flowers arranged in a blue vase. As I watched curiously, Odo strode right over to my station looking slightly...well, if he was human I’d say he looked constipated.

“Lieutenant, I just caught one of the Jem’Hadar trying to access the lift to Ops. He told me he was ordered by Weyoun to bring these to you,” the Changeling said as he set the vase on the console in front of me and handed me a PADD. “I took the liberty of conducting a few scans to make sure the flowers weren’t harmful to humanoids, but...I think we both know the Vorta wouldn’t harm you any more than he would me.”

Curiously, I opened the note on the data PADD.

“My Dear Lieutenant - I’m sorry to hear about your extended shift, but perhaps you’d be open to meeting me for breakfast instead? I’d be delighted to be your host for a change. Should you decide to accept, I’ll have one of my Jem’Hadar waiting to escort you to our ship at 0900. In the meantime, I hope this floral arrangement will brighten the mood of your station while you work, and later, your quarters. I hope to see you in the morning. - Weyoun”

A small smile wound across my mouth at the Vorta’s note, and I absentmindedly thanked Odo for bringing the flowers and note. With a polite nod, the Changeling made his way back to the lift.

“Weyoun sent that to you?” The Chief asked as he made his way over to my station. “Looks like he asked Garak for some advice. That’s the same arrangement I gave to Keiko a couple of weeks before she went to Bajor for her ecological study.”

The thought that he’d cared enough to seek advice from the tailor made something in me go all mushy. After all, I was the one who canceled on him. He didn’t need to go to all this trouble just to make me smile. And yet...he had.

I decided right then and there that I’d make it to breakfast with him if it was the last thing I did.

True to Weyoun’s word, there was a Jem’Hadar soldier waiting stalwartly outside the door to my quarters at a few minutes to nine in the morning.

“I am First, Founder. Come with me,” he said giving me a respectful nod of his head. I joined him with a quiet ‘thank you’ and we made our way to the docking ring. “Did your delivery from the Vorta arrive safely?”

“Yes, it did. Thank you. I wasn’t told who it was that tried to deliver it to me, but please pass on my gratitude to whichever of your men was kind enough to make the attempt,” I said with a smile, but the man remained as stoic as ever.

“Kindness had nothing to do with it. Obedience brings victory,” he intoned. “And victory is life.”

He reminded me so strongly of Omet’iklan that I felt a small pulse of protectiveness over Weyoun as he spoke. If this First was planning to do what Omet’iklan had done, I wasn’t about to let it happen without a fight. As the airlock doors slid open, the Jem’Hadar led me through the ship to a closed door. Pressing the chime, the soldier took his place guarding the hall.

Almost as soon as the chime ended, the door slid open to reveal Weyoun looking anxious. His lips broke into a wide, surprised smile as soon as he recognized me.

“Good morning, my dear! I thought for a moment that you might not come,” he said sounding a bit sheepish. “Come in, come in!”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t jump at the chance to see you again?” I asked with a playful smile as I stepped into the room. Allowing my eyes to travel the space, I saw that it was all rather spartan. I supposed that was only natural given who Weyoun worked for. It wouldn’t be very on par for the Founders to allow their minions any luxuries. These were clearly his quarters, though. I could see a bed through a small doorway to the side of the space, and for a moment, I allowed myself to indulge in imagining what it would be like to wake up in bed surrounded by the Vorta’s scent...

“Is everything alright, Lieutenant?” The question from my side brought me out of my thoughts and back to reality. Now I just had to make sure he didn’t find out what I’d just been imagining.

“Yes. Yeah, everything is fine. Your quarters are lovely,” I answered, and the Vorta gave me a rather knowing smile.

“Thank you, my dear, but as I’m sure you’ve noticed, there aren’t any personal items. Your space is much more welcoming, if I may be so bold,” Weyoun said offering me his hand. Without so much as a thought, I laid my own in his gasp, barely blinking as he drew me closer to him. “It’s such a pleasure to have you here this morning. You were entirely correct about Kai Winn, by the way. By the time we finished last night all I could think of was...”

He trailed off with a nervous laugh, and I looked at him curiously.

“All you could think of was...?” I asked, quietly trying to encourage him to continue. Eventually, he did in a low, hesitant voice as he refused to meet my gaze.

“All I could think of...was how much I wished I could be in your company instead. I wished so desperately that I could hear your laughter to wipe away the sound of her irritating voice,” he admitted softly before something more determined washed over his expression. “And I...well, I wasn’t exactly trying to despise her, but after her remarks to you I couldn’t help it.”

“Don’t worry about that. She’s never been the most polite person,” I said trying to soothe his ire. “You, however, are incredibly kind. The flowers you sent me are gorgeous. You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

“‘Trouble’? Oh no, my dear, that was a pleasure,” Weyoun said before leading me to a small table. “But, that aside, do please catch me up. How’ve you been? I feel as though I’ve missed out on so much already, and I don’t want to waste another moment.”

“Only if you’ll do the same for me,” I bargained, and he acquiesced with a playful little smile. The next few hours were spent swapping stories between the two of us. There was always the hidden danger that we could influence each other or give away diplomatic secrets, but there was an unspoken agreement that floated between us. Neither of us asked questions beyond the personal. It was no secret that he was a Dominion Ambassador, just as it was public knowledge that I was a Starfleet officer. Neither of us insulted the other by questioning our respective loyalties to our own sides, for which I was immensely grateful.

By the time Weyoun needed to make his way to the conference room once more, his fingers had been laced firmly with mine for the better part of an hour with no sign of separation imminent. Before I realized what was happening, I found myself escorting him to his destination, walking hand-in-hand with him through the various station corridors while we continued our conversation. Things were lighter now - easier, somehow - a fact that surprised me, as there had never been any tension between us to start with. At least, none of the unpleasant sort. And yet...it felt as though some invisible weight had been lifted, giving way for more natural interactions. Not that our interactions were unnatural or forced before – Weyoun had always made me feel extremely comfortable in conversation. Now, though, talking with him felt as easy as breathing. Inhale, exhale...question, answer.

As the door to the conference room slid open to reveal the already-seated Kai, Weyoun turned to me and brought my hands to his lips with a glint of defiance flashing in his eyes.

“Thank you for joining me this morning. There is no greater pleasure in the galaxy than that of your company,” he said just loud enough that I was certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that Winn had heard him. Turning to face her with his hands still firmly holding mine, Weyoun fixed her with one of those piercing looks I’d become so accustomed to. “Doesn’t the Lieutenant look lovely, Your Imminence? And to think, I was the one she chose to spend her morning with.”

“She does, indeed.” The Kai answered, and I realized what the Vorta was doing. He was making this into a diplomatic issue. She could either agree with his assessment or risk an incident between Bajor and the Dominion. “Though I must admit, I find myself rather confused, child. I was under the impression that the Federation was to remain neutral as this is a purely internal affair between Bajor and the Dominion.”

“Oh, we are. I was just having breakfast with an old friend,” I said squeezing Weyoun’s hands softly. “I should be going.”

“Of course, child. You may leave now,” the Kai said, and something akin to anger simmered in Weyoun’s countenance under just enough of a mask that she wouldn’t see. I knew him well enough to recognize it. Placing a hand gently on Weyoun’s chest, I murmured a quiet ‘thank you for breakfast’ before making my way out. I only hoped that Weyoun wouldn’t let her get under his skin – the opposite of what a good Federation officer should be thinking, but then...I wasn’t exactly the best example of a Federation officer.

After all, what good person ever harbored affection for the enemy?

Hours after the negotiations had resumed, I received a summons from Odo about a security matter, so I made my way through the hustle and bustle of the Promenade toward the Changeling’s office.

“Good afternoon, Constable. What was it you wanted to see me ab–” As I saw one of the displays on the wall near his desk, I froze as though I was a holoprogram that had been paused. On the monitor was a map of some sort of nebula, but not one that I’d seen before. My breath caught in my throat and I felt as though I was being pulled toward the monitor like a puppet on a string. “What is that?”

“Hm? Oh, that is the Omarion Nebula,” Odo answered in his usual gruff tone, but his chair swiveled quickly toward me when he noticed that all I could seem to do was stare at the computer’s display, motionless and silent as if transfixed. “Lieutenant...what are you feeling right now?”

“I...I don’t know. This...it’s strange. It’s as if...as if I...Odo, can you take me there?” I asked breathlessly, desperately, even though I had no idea why I’d even want to go there in the first place. It was as though some long-buried instinct was beginning to scratch away at my will and scream at me to begin the journey without delay. My life seemingly depended on it - of course in reality it didn’t, so why did I feel that way? This was just a star chart. Why would an image on a monitor make me feel an almost crippling urge to go to...wherever the hell the Omarion Nebula was?

“You feel it calling to you, don’t you?” He asked quietly, and without conscious thought, I nodded my head unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. “I was afraid you’d say that. Come with me, Lieutenant.”

“Are you taking me to the nebula?” I asked feeling hope bubbling up in my chest as Odo’s hand took up residence on my back and he guided me out of his office toward a turbolift.

“Perhaps later. First, we need to see Captain Sisko. Urgently,” he said before calling for the lift to take us to Ops.

“No, Odo, you don’t understand. I need to go to the Omarion Nebula. Now, not later,” I said, and he turned me gently to face him with his hands grasping my shoulders.

“I understand much better than you think. Trust me like you always do, Lieutenant. I promise I’ll explain everything when we get to the Captain’s office,” he murmured looking into my eyes. Despite the growing, overpowering feeling that I needed to leave now - now, nownow, right now, not later, NOW - I took a slow, steadying breath and nodded my head. “Everything will be alright.”

“I’ve been what?” I asked feeling stunned and violated as indignance flooded my voice. Even as my arms wrapped protectively around my middle, Odo placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“They did it to me too. All Changeling offspring are programmed with an instinct to return home. Mine was triggered when we were on the Defiant years ago. I caught a glimpse of the Omarion Nebula on a computer layout, as you just did, and the instinct to return home overruled any of my other thoughts and feelings. It even beat out my sense of duty,” Odo explained, and that certainly made sense. This...urge felt as though it was simply scraping away my free will, extracting it and replacing it with the almost frantic need to get in a runabout and go. “If the information I gathered from the Female Changeling during my own visit is anything to go by, then the only way to stop this sort of homing beacon is to return to the Changelings’ home planet.”

“She can’t do that. The Jem’Hadar would never allow her into Dominion territory. No Federation ship, shuttle, or runabout would survive the trip, especially after the incident involving the Tal Shiar and Tain,” the Captain stated, and I had a thought - a crazy thought, but one that just might work.

“Sir, what about Weyoun? He’s on the station conducting negotiations with Kai Winn. He views me as the child of his gods, so maybe I could convince him to take me there. After all, he came in a Dominion vessel,” I suggested, and the Captain raised an eyebrow.

“And what makes you think he wouldn’t betray you?”

“Captain, he has made it clear to me that he would take orders from me just as he would from any of the other Changelings. He wouldn’t betray me - that would be like betraying one of his gods.” I hated my reasoning, but I knew it was correct. Odo made a grunt of agreement next to me.

“She’s right. I’ve seen the way he treats her. He’ll help if she asks him to,” Odo said, and the Captain sighed heavily before tapping his combadge.

“Sisko to Weyoun,” he called, and when the Vorta answered he hesitated only a moment before giving his order. “I need you in my office. Immediately.”

“Of course, Captain. I’m on my way now,” he answered, and I took a shaky, nervous breath as I met the Captain’s eyes.

“Sir, I-I’m sorry. I know this isn’t exactly convenient–” I started, but he held up a hand to silence me.

“This situation isn’t your fault. You never asked for the Founders to program you. My only concern right now is for the safety and well-being of the officers under my command, and that includes you, Lieutenant,” he said giving me a small, fatherly smile. We hadn’t been waiting for long when the office door slid open with a hiss. I already felt ashamed that I’d caused such a dilemma that I couldn’t bring myself to face Weyoun and his gaze that always seemed to know too much about how I was feeling.

“Are you well, Lieutenant?” The Vorta asked standing beside the chair I was seated in. Hesitantly, I glanced up only to find Weyoun’s eyes already fixed on me and an expression of concern woven across his features. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as I looked quickly away, gathering my thoughts and trying to figure out how to approach the question I needed to ask. One of Weyoun’s hands rested carefully on my shoulder, and my mind jolted into clarity for a moment.

That was odd. At least I could think a little more coherently for the time being.

“I need your help, Weyoun,” I answered quietly, and as I looked back up at him, he gave me a reassuring smile.

“You need only name how I may assist you, and I will make it happen,” he answered, and Odo spoke up, sparing me the embarrassment of explaining the situation myself.

“I’ll be brief. The Founders encode their offspring with a sort of homing instinct. Mine was triggered years ago, and until a few minutes ago, I wasn’t sure if the Lieutenant would have the same reaction. She is half-human, after all,” Odo said gruffly. “In short, she does and the only way to silence it is to bring her to the Founders’ home planet. We can’t bring her there in any of our Federation vessels.”

“I thought that...maybe you could help,” I muttered looking up at him. “I know you have your orders and that you need to conduct your negotiations with Kai Winn, but...you came here in a Dominion ship...”

Weyoun smiled widely as he caught my meaning.

“You wish me to bring you home?” He asked, and I placed my hand over his where it still rested on my shoulder.

“Sort of? I need to get there to shut off this homing instinct, but I also need to come back here to Deep Space Nine,” I clarified, and Weyoun positively glowed despite my added condition.

“Your wish is my command! I’ll have my ship prepared immediately. Negotiations with the Kai are paused due to her need to consult with the Bajoran Ministers, so we’ll have ample time for the trip,” he said, and the Captain cleared his throat.

“I want your word that you will conduct my officer there and back again safely,” Sisko stated in a tone that brooked no argument.

“You have my word, Captain. I would never allow any harm to come to her,” Weyoun promised, but that wasn’t quite good enough for the Captain who stood and moved directly in front of the Vorta.

“If she ordered you to bring her back to Deep Space Nine without having reached the planet, would you do it?” He pressed, and Weyoun looked at him quizzically.

“Of course. She is a Founder, even if only by half. I’m sworn to obey the Founders in all things. She will be in command of the ship, not I,” he clarified, and I felt my eyes widen. “Any orders she gives will be carried out, you have my word.”

“They’d better be,” Odo growled. “If you or any of your men let her get hurt, I promise that you’ll wish you’d never lived to be cloned.”

Weyoun gave a deferential half-bow to the Security Chief.

“She will have safe passage and be treated as nothing less than royalty. I swear on my life she will not be harmed,” he said before turning to me. “I’ll have my men prepare the ship. We should be ready for departure in less than an hour. We’ll be away from the station for a few days, so if there’s anything you need to pack, I’d suggest you do so, my dear.”

“I will. Thank you,” I answered feeling somewhere between anxious, excited, giddy, and absolutely terrified. As soon as his hand left my shoulder, my thoughts began to race again - that was something I’d definitely have to look into while we were traveling. Odo walked up to me and looked into my eyes when the Vorta had left.

“Be careful, Lieutenant. Keep our training in mind,” he ordered, and I gave him a quick ‘yes, sir’ before thanking the Captain and leaving his office to get packed. What the hell was a person supposed to pack for an instinct-driven trip into a hostile part of the galaxy, anyway?

As I stepped through the airlock with a small bag slung across my shoulder, Weyoun was there to meet me.

“Welcome aboard, my dear,” he said with a wide smile. He gestured to one of the Jem’Hadar. “Take the Founder’s bag to her quarters.”

In the interval since we’d last spoken, I felt just that much closer to insanity. What the hell sort of sadistic homing urge was this? I felt as though I could barely think beyond the need to get to the nebula. I barely heard any of the introductions to the Jem’Hadar soldiers despite my attempts to focus. Weyoun escorted me to the bridge of the ship where the Jem’Hadar stood to attention when they saw me - as any Starfleet crew would if an Admiral were to come aboard. I supposed I would have to go along with this if I was going to survive the journey. Giving the order to depart the station, I felt a brief surge of what it must be like for Captain Sisko to be in command of the Defiant. Did he feel the same anticipation at the start of a journey, or was that something else unique to this Founders-be-damned homing instinct?

After passing through the wormhole without incident and ordering the course to the Omarion Nebula, I stayed at my post in the Captain’s chair for several hours, trying to keep my mind occupied with the task at hand: reaching the nebula and commanding a starship for the first time. All things considered, I really should have been more nervous than I was. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that all I could seem to focus on was reaching the Changelings’ planet.

Several hours into the trip, Weyoun cleared his throat beside me.

“Lieutenant, may I have a word in private?” He asked, and I agreed readily.

“You have the bridge, First,” I ordered, and at the soldier’s salute, I walked with Weyoun into the Dominion ship’s equivalent of a Captain’s ready room. As soon as the doors hissed closed, Weyoun took hold of my hands. My breath shuddered a bit at the clarity that washed over me when his skin made contact with mine. There had to be some sort of biological connection that the Changelings encoded between themselves and the Vorta that was making me react this way.

Concern flowed over me and through me – at me? – and I saw my own confusion mirrored in Weyoun’s eyes.

“Did you feel that?” He asked quietly, and I nodded my head hesitantly. “Perhaps the genetic coding that causes this homing instinct is reacting differently because of your human half. Can you...feel others as well?”

“No...No, just you,” I answered trying to gather my fragmented thoughts. “There’s something else as well. When...Each time that you are in physical contact with me, my mind goes quiet.”

Weyoun tilted his head in confusion, and I tried to explain the best that I could.

“It feels as though my brain is full of subspace interference and you cut through it all. For some reason, you’re helping me focus,” I murmured as my cheeks heated in embarrassment. Surely now he would think I was insane if he hadn’t before.

“How intriguing,” he breathed, and I felt several positive emotions swirling together from him. “This must be some sort of imprinting mechanism. Perhaps the Founders realized that their offspring might need some assistance. A connection like this would certainly help any Vorta in their company understand their needs more clearly.”

Odo hadn’t mentioned any of this from his own trip, but then, he hadn’t been anywhere near a Vorta at the time. Oh shit, how much could Weyoun feel from me, if I could sense his emotions?

I had my answer a mere moment later when Weyoun drew me into his arms and kissed my forehead so fucking gently.

“You have nothing to fear. You’re safe with me.” His promise struck a chord, and I found myself nodding my head silently in his embrace. “It has been a long day. Perhaps I should escort you to your quarters so you can rest?”

That...actually sounded heavenly. I agreed quietly, and with Weyoun’s hand on my lower back, we exited the ready room and gave a few final orders to the Jem’Hadar before heading to the turbolift. Within moments we were arriving outside a set of quarters that I noted was directly next door to the ones Weyoun occupied. When the Vorta made to leave me in peace, I was ashamed at how much anxiety washed over me. I couldn’t stop myself from clasping his hands in mine.

“W-Would...? I mean, you’re probably busy or have better things to do, but...could...you maybe stay? Just for a bit?” I hated how shaky my voice was, but to my surprise, Weyoun just smiled, opened the door to my quarters, and walked inside with me as if I hadn’t just sounded completely pathetic. If he still viewed me as the child of his gods, there was no doubt in my mind that he was seeing more clearly how limited of a being I was for the supposed half-deity he thought I was.

Without a word spoken between the two of us, we walked to the bedroom and laid down together, our shoes having been discarded somewhere between the door and the bed. Weyoun’s asymmetrical vest had also been removed revealing the soft shirt he wore beneath it, and as I took my place in bed beside him, I hesitated. I’d thought about falling asleep in his arms so many times, but was that something he’d be comfortable with? Sensing my reluctance, the Vorta gave me a warm smile and opened his arms.

“It’s alright,” he murmured gently. “I don’t bite, I promise.”

An image I really should not have thought about went through my mind of his teeth worrying a sensitive spot on my neck. I shook it away and carefully laid down in his arms.

“There we are,” he practically purred, and I felt a little shiver of delight run up my spine at the feeling of him surrounding me. A quiet hum came from my lips, and Weyoun’s lips pressed softly against my forehead. “I quite enjoy this as well. I must admit...I’ve imagined this before, but those thoughts pale in comparison to the real thing.”

I’d have to unpack that statement when I wasn’t being pulled slowly into unconsciousness by the steady sound of Weyoun’s heartbeat. Before I allowed myself to fall asleep, however, I nuzzled drowsily into the crook of the Vorta’s neck and pressed a slow, soft kiss into the spot just above his thrumming pulse.

“Thank you,” I breathed just millimeters away from his skin, but from the way his breath hitched, I knew he’d heard me.

The next morning, I was awakened by a summons from the Jem’Hadar First stating that we’d be arriving at the Changelings’ planet in a few minutes. As I blinked slowly awake and acknowledged the information, I was stunned to find that Weyoun was still in bed with me. I’d thought he’d have left not long after I fell asleep, but...he’d stayed. As he awakened as well, his eyes drifted to his arms to take in the sight of me where I lay. A soft smile played across his lips and mine, and after a moment’s pause we reluctantly got out of bed to get dressed.

The instant we reached the bridge, the Jem’Hadar reported that we were in orbit around the planet. Consulting a scan of the surface, I gave the coordinates for a beam in site.

“I shall accompany you to the surface,” Weyoun said placing a hand on my lower back as he guided me to the transporter room. As I gave the order to beam us down, it felt as though things were moving too quickly. There were so many questions running rampant through my mind, but as we re-materialized on the planet’s surface, I felt a breath escape me that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The insanity-inducing itch in my brain faded, leaving me with curiosity and a little apprehension.

Standing on a rock formation in the planet’s dim light, Weyoun and I quietly surveyed our surroundings. There was a small landmass that we were standing on, but beyond that, there was only a vast, still-looking ocean. Something about it seemed...odd. What looked like a wave moved in slow motion before separating from the rest of the liquid and forming the shape of a woman on the edge of the shore.

She looked very similar to Odo as she glanced between myself and Weyoun.

“You have dared to bring a human to our world, Vorta?” She asked sounding sufficiently intimidating. Weyoun gave a bow and stammered out a response.

“Founder, she is not just a human. She is half-Changeling. She is Meris’s child,” he explained, but the Changeling didn’t seem impressed.

“Meris’s child? You thought it wise to bring the one who shouldn’t exist here?” Her words froze the blood in my veins. Through the connection that had been formed between Weyoun and me, I could feel fear more intense than he’d ever shown before - fear that spoke volumes about how the Changelings had treated him. “You will pay for your lack of judgment with your life.”

“No, he won’t,” I called moving in between Weyoun and the Changeling so she couldn’t get to him. “Weyoun brought me here because of a homing instinct that you or one of your people programmed me with. He has done nothing wrong, and you will not touch him.”

The Female Changeling tilted her head curiously at my show of protectiveness.

“You would risk your life...for a Vorta?” She sounded as though the mere idea was unthinkable to her.

“I would and I will a thousand times over if you continue to threaten his safety. From what I’ve heard, no Changeling has ever harmed another, but if you want to get to him, you’ll have to do a hell of a lot more than just harm me. Weyoun is under my protection,” I said as I put some of Odo’s training to use and shaped my forearms into sharp lengths that resembled swords. The Female Changeling continued to stare at me impassively for a moment before nodding her head.

“Very well. He will not be harmed.” The ocean behind her rippled, whether from discontent at her decision or agreement, I couldn’t quite tell.

“I want your word and the word of every Changeling here that Weyoun will not be punished for this now or ever. He was following orders - my orders. Given that I’m half-Changeling, he was sworn to obey even me in all things. He was only doing what you programmed him to do. I don’t want him punished for that whether I’m around to protect him or not. Is that understood?”

“I give you my word, as do all the other Changelings. As of this moment, he is forgiven,” I chafed at her choice of words, but at least the meaning was clear. “However, we want something in return.”

“And that is?”

“We desire your word that no matter the circumstance, you will never return to this planet once you have departed,” she intoned as if she was asking for something as simple as a replicated meal. I felt Weyoun’s hand rest gently on my shoulder.

“No! I’m not worth such a promise–” He began, but there was no changing my mind. This wasn’t even a choice. If a single promise protected Weyoun and kept me from having to interact with murderers, then I was happy to make it.

“You have my word,” I promised, and I heard the Vorta behind me draw a sharp intake of breath. I let my arms return to normal. “Before I leave, tell me one thing. Are you aware of how much damage you’ve caused?”

“‘Damage’? We’ve done nothing more than impose order where there was none, half-breed, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand. After all, you are the one tarnishing what our species stands for with your human DNA,” the Changeling said in an imperious tone. “You know, the Vorta was correct. He was not worth such a promise. Now leave us. Your homing instinct is sated and you’ve polluted our shores long enough as it is. Give our regards to Odo.”

Without another word, she turned and walked to the edge of the rock she’d been standing on before reverting to her liquid state to rejoin the vast ocean that was the Great Link. Quietly, I turned to face Weyoun who was wearing a stricken expression on his face. Activating his communication device, I spoke as steadily as I could manage.

“Two to beam up. Energize when ready.”

When we re-materialized on the transporter pad of the Dominion ship, I gave orders to set a course back toward the wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant, and escorted my very shaken Vorta companion back to the quarters we’d shared the night before. The stars outside the windows began to move and blur as we went to warp, but I paid no attention. Weyoun was my main focus. As soon as the doors slid closed behind us, he dropped to his knees in front of me and clutched at my legs as tears began cascading down his cheeks.

“I-I’m so sorry, Founder,” he stuttered in a voice heavy with emotion, and he looked up at me as if he truly was pleading with a god. “This is all my fault–”

I held his hands and dropped to my knees to pull him into my arms. The Changelings were evil. They’d caused so much death and destruction. They’d oppressed whole worlds and traumatized so many people in their quest for power - for order as the Female Changeling had said to me - including Weyoun. Weyoun, who was now beside himself, not because of something he’d done, but because of what the Changeling had implied about my choice.

“No, Weyoun, it’s not. You haven’t done anything wrong,” I promised, but the Vorta shook his head.

“It is! It is, if you hadn’t needed to protect me, you wouldn’t have been asked not to return! You’d still have your family,” he protested, but kissed his forehead tenderly and looked directly into his watery eyes.

“Weyoun, listen to me. You did everything I asked of you and more. You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise you. They would have asked me to leave whether you were there or not,” I said, and his hands clutched desperately at my thighs. “The Changeling was wrong. I would make that promise over and over again in a heartbeat if it meant your safety.”

“Why?” His question was so sudden and filled with stunned confusion.

“Can’t you tell?” I asked quietly, looking into his eyes. Something unspoken passed between us as those wide, violet irises cast gently, hesitantly over the most vulnerable parts of my soul. His eyes dropped to my mouth for a brief moment, and all at once my desire to close the gap between us as I’d imagined countless times was heightened - doubled, perhaps? In the back of my mind, it occurred to me that whatever the connection was that Changeling’s homing instinct had created between us hadn’t been broken, at least not completely. This wasn’t just me, not entirely anyway. Some slight amount of surprise must have registered on my face because Weyoun’s brow furrowed slightly.

“Is something wrong?” He asked nervously, and I shook my head.

“No, but I...I think I can still...feel you,” I murmured, and the Vorta looked startled at the prospect. His cheeks went a beautiful shade of lavender, and he lowered his eyes as if in shame.

“I-I sincerely apologize. If I’d known you could still...I-I mean I wouldn’t have–” he broke off abruptly when I reached for him and cupped his cheeks softly in my palms. The fear in his eyes when I finally coaxed him into looking at me again nearly broke my heart on the spot. His voice came out as a shaky whisper that could’ve been carried away by a light breeze. “I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry.”

“Weyoun, you have no reason to apologize. If I can still feel you, then I assume you’re still able to feel me?” I asked quietly, and he nodded his head hesitantly.

“Y-Yes, but I swear to you, I’m not actively trying to pry. It’s none of my business what you feel. I could never be worthy of the knowledge,” he answered hurriedly as if I was angry with him – as if I ever could be. With a gentle smile, I let my thumbs skim over his cheeks.

“But you are,” I replied just as quickly in an attempt to dispel the Founder’s lies and conditioning. “Trust me, Weyoun.”

“I do–”

“Then reach out and feel what I’m feeling. Please,” I murmured bringing one of his hands so gently to my lips. At the brush of skin on skin, I felt a burst of pleasure from Weyoun and a hesitant desire for more. As my eyes met his once more, I saw - and felt - surprise wash over him the moment he took my advice and reached out through that odd connection we shared. I knew what he’d find. I may have tried to hide it from myself for a long while, but there was no use denying it when the person you’d harbored a secret affection for was literally sifting through your feelings as easily as picking through a salad. Heat rose to my cheeks even as I gave my companion a sheepish smile.

“You’re not angry with me...” he stated in a tone that all at once conveyed relief, confusion, and surprise. How could he imagine I’d be upset with him? He’d done so much for me and never asked anything in return. What reason would I possibly have for being angry? His voice was hushed when he continued. “But...But that’s impossible. You can’t seriously feel the same way I feel about you...can you?”

Not trusting my voice, I nodded my head and watched in astonishment as the last of his tears trickled down his cheek. Acting entirely on impulse now, I leaned in and delicately kissed it away, pulling a whimper from his chest as his hands came up and grasped my arms.

Precious, gentle man.

“Please...” The supplication tumbled from his lips laced with desperation, but I had to be sure. I had to be sure that what he was feeling wasn’t just a sympathetic reflection of what I was feeling. He deserved that much respect.

“Are you sure that this is what you want?” I asked looking into his eyes. Weyoun wetted his lips with a dart of his tongue and spoke through a shaky breath.

“Reach out and feel what I’m feeling, my dear. Please,” he begged using my own words from earlier. I did as he asked, and the wave of emotion that washed over me was overwhelming. So many feelings overlapped and melded into one another that my hands started trembling – lining every bit of it was sincerity.

And at the heart of it all was a love so powerful it took my breath away.

How was he holding so much inside of himself? I was acutely aware of the unadulterated wonder that was no doubt plastered on my face as he spoke once more.

“You see them now, don’t you? All of the things I don’t have the words for...” I did. The argument that this was all due to the genetic coding that the Founders had placed inside him was losing strength by the minute, but there was still a part of me that wondered...

But Weyoun seemed so certain about what he was feeling. He seemed sure that this was real, and yet...I didn’t want to be a regret. I’d have to approach this slowly. It was of paramount importance that I give him every chance to back out should he change his mind–

While those thoughts had been swirling around in my mind as a chaotic cloud of doubt and analysis, Weyoun, or I, or perhaps even both of us had moved closer as if pulled by a magnet. His breath was my breath was his breath until suddenly his lips brushed mine timidly, shattering any coherent thoughts left in my mind like glass over a concrete slab. Pressing my lips more solidly against his, the both of us melted – or did we combust? One of Weyoun’s hands slid to my waist while the other wound its way up into my hair. A quiet, desperate little whine came from between his lips – or had it come from me?

Locking lips with my Vorta on the floor of our quarters in the middle of the Gamma Quadrant certainly wasn’t where I’d seen this trip heading when we’d departed the station, but I wasn’t about to start complaining. ‘My Vorta’? When had I started thinking like that? At the feeling of his hands coaxing me ever closer and his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, I ceased thinking altogether.

All too soon, we were forced to break apart for air, and taking advantage of that, I stood and helped Weyoun up. At his slightly dazed, curious expression, I caught his hands in mine and led him into the bedroom.

“I think the Jem’Hadar can manage without us for a while, don’t you?” I asked coaxing him into sitting with me on the bed. We obviously needed to talk this through at least partially. This was a big shift that needed addressing. “Weyoun...I want to know what you want.”

“...Well, I’d like to kiss you again,” he said in the most innocently eager tone I’d heard since he asked me to teach him dabo. With an amused giggle, I clarified what I meant.

“You’ll be able to, I promise, but I mean what do you want to come of this...change between us?” I asked, and he hummed in comprehension.

“Ah, I see. No Weyoun since the original has been in a romantic relationship, so I’m afraid I have no more than his memories to guide me. As for personal desires, I’m quite open to wherever this takes us,” he said sounding more clear-headed than he had since before we beamed down to the planet. “I suppose whatever is the most natural progression in a situation like this is what I’d like, but only if you want that too.”

“Why don’t we take it slow and see where we end up?” I suggested, and the Vorta nodded his head in agreement. The rest of our journey was spent alternating between idle bits of conversation, enjoying our closeness, and reacquainting ourselves with each other’s lips.

Upon our arrival back at Deep Space Nine, Weyoun seemed much more like his normal self - with the added bonus of a new cuddly streak. He even escorted me back to my quarters via the Promenade while holding my hand. Those small gestures held a new meaning for us, and they were worth the scowl on the Kai’s face from her spot on the upper level. After a brief meeting between Weyoun and a scientist called Giger, the Vorta gave me a gentle parting kiss and made me promise to be safe until his return. Having successfully extracted the same promise from him, we parted ways once more – a practice that was becoming rather tiresome. If only he could come live on the station permanently. Then I could kiss away all his troubles.

#weyoun 5 #weyoun 5 x reader #weyoun x reader #deepspacedukat fic #emotions #pain #fluff #angst but then it's kinda better and fine #spoilers for In The Cards #spoilers for The Search Pts 1&2 #made up empathic/telepathic bullshit #this is my world and THOU SHALT SUFFER WITH ME PEASANTS #spoilers for The Die Is Cast #NOW KISS

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shranstan · 3 years ago

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Fallout AU of DS9

Inspired mostly by Fallout New Vegas with a bunch of Fallout 4 and a tiny bit of Fallout 3 thrown in.

The Cardassian occupation of Bajor didn’t last 50 years - it lasted 200. During this time, Cardassians heavily damaged Bajor, including essentially nuking most of the surface in the early days. The land is ruined, irradiated, but nature is trying to regrow. New mutant species adapt, and in general - Bajor is forced to be born anew.

The Cardassians have yet to leave Bajor, however. They have long given up on restoring Bajor’s nature. Instead, they now plan to get rid of all and any irradiation and mutation, so that perfectly healthy specimens from abroad can be introduced into a newly terraformed planet. They do plan on exterminating ANYTHING touched by radiation, though. (Think combination of Ceasar’s Legion, the Institute, and the Brotherhood of Steel)

Kira Nerys is a high ranking officer of the New Bajoran Government. They stride to adopt this changed world into something to be proud of once more.

Jadzia Dax became a ghoul. She’s lived over 200 years by now, every once and again re-inventing herself into a new persona, gaining new skills, new relationships. Long living can be boring. (Inspired strongly by Calamity from FNV)

Julian Bashir joined the Followers of the Apocalypse, not wanting to follow his father’s footsteps of being a con-artist raider. As a healer, he quickly becomes friends with dr Kelas Parmak, who chose to stay on Bajor to help those he feels his species hurt so much. Together, they help a disgraced Cardassian spy Elim Garak drop his chems addiction. (He’s basically Arcade Gannon, daddy issues included)

Quark is the owner of a caravan, travelling from settlement to settlement. He is accompanied by his mechanic brother Rom and teenage nephew Nog, who do odd jobs wherever “Quark’s” is in town.

Odo works as a security guard at the gates of DS9, one of the few truly flourishing places left. It’s named the old radio tower that stands in the centre, DS9-476. The still-active transmission of Subspace Radio is what attracts numerous travellers. (DS9′s Promenade is basically Diamond City/the Strip. The habitat ring is Goodneighbour/Freeside)

thats enough of fancy notes, some more rambling ideas:

Sisko and Kasidy are leading a Minutemen-adjacent faction called “Defiant” Ezri grew up in a vault Jake Sisko is like. Teenage Piper Cameo by Data Valentine Miles is a robotics expert, Keiko is bio-engineering new plants that can thrive in the wastelands of Bajor Worf is a Super Mutant but like. a Jacobstown inteligent gentle(r) Super Mutant. Idk if only Super Mutants can get addicted to stealth boys but if not, then maybe Garak’s chem addiction is instead a Stealthboy addiction. Garak’s main chems would be Calmex, Mentats, and Med-X

#ds9 #fallout #fnv #feel free to add any ideas of your own id love to hear them

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dykerory · 4 years ago

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miles o'brien, an english adjacent emotionally and sexually repressed & depressed old man that knows how to fix ships? he ticks nearly all of gideon's boxes. and he comes with a station of other chaotic horny baby sluts? gideon is ordering her ds9 parking spot rn

Gideon stages a benign coup of the station and sisko calls a staff meeting like. I want to know whose horny sims mod is blasting Abba through the station speakers and creating shots in the replicator. I won’t be mad I just wanna know.

#you calling miles English adjacent IS a hate crime tho #legends of tomorrow #star trek: ds9 #asked and answered

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leohtttbriar · 1 year ago

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it's because they're both political. they're both political figures more than anything else--winn because she cannot speak to the prophets and resents it and sisko because he assigns no spiritualism or religiosity to the prophets that speak to him. they are both representatives of a religion that they are adjacently-faithful to. winn expressed in the first episode she was in that she wanted to meet her gods and she had to be punished for wanting so. sisko is as his culture made him--irreligious. in this way they're both materialist.

the fact of them both making this move to not let bajor join the federation yet, on the eve of war with the dominion, which is a civilization of people who are so boundary-less as beings that their materialism must be equally so (that is, unfocused on autonomy and individual choices and freedom), is suggestive of the specific ds9 star trek themes. while sisko's journey is some version of "government is better committed to one than many," with him retreating completely into spiritual-paternalism such that he proves hobbes right by enacting the divine message that only he can hear in a way that only someone who is "faithful" would trust---winn's journey is finding her place as a political representative that can handle the precariousness of the situation as she reconsiders her doubts about a starfleet alien being a religious figure in exactly the way she's always wanted. sisko accepts his place as a prophet of the divine while winn accepts her place as a diplomat.

and it's interesting that both these changes in character happen in regards to what is framed as an inevitable war. the extra-dimensional beings who can look down on the universe and see all of time played out, they've positioned sisko and winn in these ways textually as a strategy for facing the changeling attack. as in, bajor need an emissary that's like sisko, an "unbeliever" but deeply invested in bajoran history and science and anything else the federation is meant to represent in the story; and bajor also needs a political leader like winn who adheres to the archaic rituals first and blind faith sort of never (she believes the interpretation of the prophets that is politically expedient).

they both come to the conclusion that there is a reason and that what the prophets say and do is rational---in the interests of a planet of people so recently liberated from violent occupation. thus, god exists because something had to be caused. scotus's proof of god's existence is like:

"(1) No effect can produce itself. (2) No effect can be produced by just nothing at all. (3) A circle of causes is impossible. (4) Therefore, an effect must be produced by something else. (from 1, 2, and 3) (5) There is no infinite regress in an essentially ordered series of causes. (6) It is not possible for there to be an accidentally ordered series of causes unless there is an essentially ordered series. (7) Therefore, there is a first agent. (from 4, 5, and 6)"

given that you can refer to the speed of light as the speed of causality and that the divine beings of this story are creatures in a wormhole, which is like, theoretically, the place where space and time are indistinct, the epistemological argument with sisko and winn and this episode and the whole ds9 story is that knowledge and information are sourced completely in the material world. but only the "first agent" is rationally capable of knowing all--the beings that are above causality, that are the first cause, that live where causality meets up with effect and production and potentialities are so great that there is a horizon of events, beyond which time is meaningless as we know it.

it's a reckoning with divinity that i did not expect and reckoning with religion that is less condemning than other episodes in the show display. and both winn and sisko can enact the right path due to their rationalized scotus-like faith, on the eve of war where a multicultural multiplicity of autonomous people are fighting against a unified people who can morph into everything (and therefore trust nothing for not being able to cope with uncertainty). it's the decolonizing effect of re-discovering a lost city of an oppressed civilization right before a large fight against fascist colonizers of a sort, and winn and sisko work together to save bajor due to sisko's new faith in the infinite knowledge of the bajoran prophets and winn's new faith in sisko actually being able to hear the prophets' voices. faiths which are founded in rational proofs.

still thinking about how both kai winn and sisko both needed material proof (in the form of a lost city) that sisko was the emissary with everything that it implies. medievalist reckoning with the divine, it is.

#sure. i'll bring john duns scotus into this. why not.#ds9 #star trek #worth saying that my treatment of words like 'god' and 'religion' here are abrahamic and xian oriented bc #a) that's what i'm most familiar with and b) that's what ds9's main audience at time of airing and writing is most familiar with #studies of the sacred yield quite a lot more ontological and epistemological diversity. but 'imagined realities' exist across cultures #so i don't think the show or anything else is too wildly biased #sisko #winn adami #kai winn

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unicorn-and-bluebells · 3 years ago

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So I was just thinkin DS9 thoughts (as I often do now), and. Y'all remember Jadzia's Zhian'tara? Specifically how Quark agreed to host Audrid?

I think if you wanted you could very easily write that as some fun body horror-adjacent stuff for Quark. Like, think about it: he was VERY not in control of his body (sure, he could pipe up from the back of his mind, but for most of that experience his mind was pushed to the back to make room for Audrid's memories, and he wasn't in control of his body), he was already reluctant to do this (only agreeing because Jadzia is his friend), and to top it all off, I don't think Ferengi are very mammalian and here's Audrid wanting to talk all about feeding her children in a decidedly mammalian manner. Which, to an alien with very different biology, probably seems very gross.

Idk I feel like you could really go all kinds of places with Zhian'tara and possible body horror scenarios (like, shit, Joran stuck Sisko's hand through a forcefield, that must've been terrifying to be in the backseat for Sisko), but the clash between Audrid and Quark seems particularly good for it. Food for thought if I ever write a fic set in that time I guess

#Audrid Dax #Quark #Jadzia Dax #Ben Sisko #Joran Dax #Ferengiposting

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abigailnussbaum · 4 years ago

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How to do Garak/Bashir in Canon DS9

Yesterday there was a fun tweet asking people how they would remake DS9 if they were given the option today.

Which led to some fun discussions (you can see my answers here). Obviously one thing that pretty much everyone said was “canon Garak/Bashir”. That’s generally considered one of the show’s big missed opportunities, with both Andrew J. Robinson and some of the show’s producers expressing regret over never having gone there. But it did get me thinking: how would you tell this sort of story? Because look, it’s one thing to write Garak/Bashir in fanfic, filling in gaps in the canon or changing the entire tone of the story to suit your ‘ship. But if you’re retelling DS9 along basically the same lines - the end of the Cardassian occupation, the discovery of the wormhole, the Jem’hadar, the Dominion, the war with Cardassia - and with the personalities of the characters and the tone of the show largely unchanged, how do you fit Garak/Bashir into that story?

There are some obvious issues with trying to work this ship into the show’s story and overall tone. For one thing, Bashir is a Starfleet officer. We like to make fun of his early, annoying incarnation, but even in that form he is clearly a decent, principled man with strong values. It’s one thing to flirt (literally or figuratively) with a mysterious, sexy spy, but getting into a relationship with him would not only be stupid, it would run counter to Bashir’s image of himself. You could go in a dark direction with this - Garak seduces Bashir purely as a way of gaining power over him (and perhaps out of force of habit); maybe they end up in a kind of Hannibal/Will relationship. But that doesn’t seem sustainable in the long-term, or congruent with the type of show DS9 was. Bashir can’t trust Garak, and Garak has done things that Bashir would consider disgusting. That’s something you have to take into consideration if you want to write them as a long-term couple.

It’s also worth considering that, as much as the Garak/Bashir pairing lingers over the fannish perception of the show, it’s not actually that prominent in the series itself. The last episode that I would call a Garak/Bashir story, “Our Man Bashir”, is an early S4 episode, well before the Dominion War happens. And Garak is absent for a lot of the later developments in Bashir’s life - “Doctor Bashir, I Presume” (you’d think Garak, with his complicated relationship with his father, would have something to say about Julian having been illegally genetically enhanced by his parents) or “Statistical Probabilities” (a troupe of savants who claim to be able to predict the course of the war would surely be of interest to Garak). In most of these stories, Bashir is accompanied by O’Brien, a much safer option as far as suppressed sexual tension is concerned (it should go without saying that this feels like a deliberate choice on the show’s part, to undermine any idea of a Garak/Bashir relationship). Meanwhile, Bashir is absent from most of Garak’s important Dominion War stories - his relationship with Ziyal and her death, his position in Damar’s rebellion, “In the Pale Moonlight”. So if you’re going to retell DS9 with Garak/Bashir as a real ship, you'd have to rewrite a lot of these stories to take that into account.

Finally, you’ve got the show’s ending, which is an extremely dark one for Garak, who gets everything he thought he wanted - his position restored, a place of honor in Cardassian society - just at the point where Cardassia is decimated and, in his words, left dead. Working a romance with Bashir into this ending would be tricky, and risks ending up with the final scenes of Man of Steel - two people making out atop a mass grave.

(Obviously, I’m taking it as a given that this hypothetical version of DS9 is much, much better at writing mature, complicated romantic relationships than the real one. Most actual DS9 romance was painfully juvenile, and the one exception, Sisko/Kasidy, was also an extremely low-drama ship - Sisko literally sent Kasidy to jail and the next time they met they were like “so, that was a bit of a bump in the road; dinner later?” It should go without saying that Garak/Bashir would not be a low-drama ship, so the writing would need to be there to support it.)

Anyway, complicated but obviously not impossible. This is what I’ve come up with for how I would rewrite the show with Garak/Bashir as an ongoing couple. I’m sure there’s plenty of fanfic with other, better ideas.

To start with, lose the claustrophobia business. Or, you know, keep it, but the reason Garak was expelled from the Obsidian Order and banished from Cardassia is that he’s gay. (To be fair, I feel like “claustrophobia” was pretty clearly code even in the original show.) A lot of people in the upper echelons of the Cardassian hierarchy know this - Dukat certainly knows - and miss no opportunity to harass him about it.

Obviously, in this version of the show Cardassia is deeply queerphobic. I don’t think this is a huge leap. Cardassian society is deeply conformist, and family-oriented in a fascist-adjacent sort of way that prioritizes the father as the master of the home. It’s hard to imagine a society like that tolerating deviations from gender norms, and it seems fair to assume that reprecussions for such deviations would be severe.

Garak doesn’t actually have a problem with this - or at least, not that he expresses. Garak’s defining trait is that he believes in, and loves, Cardassia deeply, and espouses its chauvinistic (in both senses of the word) values to anyone who will listen. But at the same time, he’s smart enough (and enough of an outsider) to know how hollow and destructive those values really are. So Garak will explain to anyone who challenges him on it that Cardassian homophobia is right and proper, while knowing that he has fallen victim to it himself.

Bashir is out. Though “out” might not be the right word because the Federation is so nonchalant about queerness that the notion of being closeted doesn’t really exist anymore (this is a version of Star Trek where we actually follow through on the promise of a more progressive future). But at any rate, to Bashir and the other Starfleet characters, him being gay is so unremarkable that it doesn’t even come up until his and Garak’s frienship is already established. This deeply shocks Garak - he knew humans were perverted, but the good Doctor, his friend? Bashir, meanwhile, wastes no opportunity to needle Garak about his society’s barbaric homophobia (Garak: “humans may be prone to such... urges, but Cardassians are made of finer stuff”; Bashir: *rolls eyes so hard he can see the back of his head*). But at the same time, and without being entirely willing to admit it to himself, Garak is intrigued.

And so we continue for about five seasons. Garak flirts with Bashir, partly because he thinks this is a way of unsettling the good Doctor, but really because he wants him. Bashir assumes that it’s all an act, and plays along with it a little because, hey, sexy spy. But he never imagines that it could go somewhere real, and probably wouldn’t follow through if it did.

And then Bashir gets replaced with a Changeling (this is a version of DS9 where that idea was seeded throughout the first half of the fifth season instead of being decided on five minutes before “In Purgatory’s Shadow” started shooting). And the changeling takes one look at Garak, sees an obvious in, and seduces him. Which clearly causes some awkwardness when Garak finds the real Bashir in a Dominion prison camp.

Bashir finds out. Worf tells him (this is a version of Worf who isn’t weirdly sexist and judgmental about other people’s sex lives). (Bashir: “why is Garak being so weird around me?”; Worf: “he and the fake you were doing it”; Bashir: “what”; Worf: “they were boning”; Bashir: “WHAT”; Worf: “they were engaging in sexual intercourse”; Bashir: “that's not possible. Garak only flirts with me to keep me on my toes”; Worf: *shrugs* “if that’s what you want to call it”.)

So now Bashir is upset because he’s spent the last five years bugging Garak about Cardassian homophobia and it turns out that Garak was a victim of it, plus he’s now been victimized by someone wearing Bashir’s face. And Garak is upset because he let his attraction to Bashir (Garak: “my base lust!”) blind him to the fact that his friend had been replaced by a changeling, leading to him being comromised as an agent (I will leave it as an exercise to the readers which one bothers him more). And, well, if you can’t get from there to romance on your own, you may not have read enough fanfic in your life.

Then you get the war, and honestly, I don’t know. You could do an on/off thing. You could make it a very casual relationship in between the two of them trying not to die and/or lose the Alpha Quadrant to the Dominion. You could have Bashir say “fuck it, I might die tomorrow and this guy makes me happy; who cares if my boyfriend is a liar and a murderer”. You could even go the Worf/Jadzia route and have them muse romantically about having a life together after the war. But either way, they spend more time around each other than they did in the original series.

But! When Garak goes back to Cardassia to help Damar’s rebellion, there’s a lot of tension between them, because Damar heard from Dukat that Garak is a pervert (you could still keep Ziyal’s death and Garak’s anger at Damar over it; those two always made more sense as friends anyway). And then it turns out that there’s an entire Cardassian queer underground, and in typical Cardassian fashion they’ve turned it into a whole spy network with operatives at every level of government. (Garak: “why did you never approach me?”; queer Cardassian underground: “dude, have you met you?”) And they’re willing to work with Damar if he promises that in the new Cardassia, they will no longer be persecuted (I think this dovetails pretty nicely with Garak’s observation that Damar needs to be disillusioned about the flaws of Cardassian society). So all of a sudden Garak is looking at a future where what he is doesn’t make him a pariah anymore.

And then you get to the destruction of Cardassia, and, again, I’m not sure how that combines with Garak/Bashir. The entire ending of DS9 is pretty rough on romantic pairings in general, but at least when Kira/Odo and Sisko/Kasidy break up, it’s bittersweet, and in service of other new beginnings. Garak’s ending is just bleak, and I’m not sure how you deal with a romance on top of that. The best I can come up with is Bashir saying “yes, this is horrible, but you can rebuild, and if you need my help with that, I’m not far”, leaving a door open for them to reconnect in the future.

Thoughts?

#deep space nine #garak/bashir #this got long

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galpalaven · 4 years ago

Text

daughter of cardassia

Fresh off her first semester at the university on Bajor, Ziyal's returned to DS9 for a little R&R - and finds the reunion bittersweet. With the arrival of the Dominion, the station seems empty and lifeless compared to the hustle and bustle she remembers. It's sad, especially since she'd been so looking forward to coming home after the loneliness university had laid on her shoulders.

Enter Jake Sisko, the only Federation citizen left on the station and someone she's struck up a tentative pen-pal adjacent friendship with over the past few months. She's desperate for any feeling of normalcy, but she's acutely aware of the current political atmosphere, and that complicates things.

After all, what would her father think?

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Jake/Ziyal 3700+ words chapter 1/?

also on AO3!

1. homecoming

Allies.

That’s what they’d called themselves.

Her father had been insistent on the benefits of this move, of the decision of Cardassia to ally itself with the Dominion. The Federation couldn’t be trusted, he told her. They’d sooner see Cardassia beaten down and trod upon for their supposed crimes than treat them as an equal. Once Bajor joined the Federation, that would be the end of Cardassia as they knew it—unless they had the guts to do something unexpected.

Cardassia would win, he said, if only they befriended the one thing the Federation feared.

Ziyal hadn’t known what to say to that when he’d first told her.

They’d be Cardassia’s greatest friends, he’d said. They’d help her rise even higher than she’d ever been able to rise on her own. They’d rule the galaxy, side by side, a power unlike anything the Alpha or Gamma Quadrants had ever seen. Cardassia’s newest friends would be their ticket to glory—and soon, oh soon, Ziyal would be the daughter of the Dominion’s right hand. She would never want for anything ever again, once their friends had control of the Alpha Quadrant. Victory was so close he could almost taste it.

Friends.

Allies was one thing. Sure, not a word she’d ever want to use, but still professional. Still neutral enough. Distant enough.

But friends? Friends? With the Dominion?

It’s… unbelievable.

Almost as unbelievable as the decision for Bajor to also enter into a tentative alliance with the Dominion.

It’s because of this that Nerys was still on the station, as was Odo. Aside from the vacating of the Federation citizens and the Starfleet officers, the station had continued on almost as normal. She says almost because, though there is no real change in the operation of the station on any level that she can see, the Promenade is markedly emptier than it used to be. Many restaurants have shut down, stores locked up, missing their owners who fled during the evacuation.

Garak’s shop is one of them, locked tight, all steel shutters pulled down and closed. He’d warned her as much before the evacuation happened, that he couldn’t stay. She’d agreed with him that it was the safest bet, but for more reasons than just his own safety. Dr. Bashir had been leaving, too, after all. Even ignoring the fact that her father would have surely had him executed, she knew how much Garak would have worried had he not managed to go with the Federation.

It’s been a long few months, since the non-aggression agreement between Bajor and the Dominion had been signed.

She’s only been back on the station for a few days, but it’s strange to see it like this. Even the lighting seems a little colder than she remembers, though the station climate controls seem to have been set at a warmer temperature with the return of the Cardassians. She’d been so looking forward to coming back here—to coming home, in a way—that it’s a little disheartening to come back to… well, this.

Her University semester had ended a week ago, and she’d been looking forward to this trip for weeks. She’d expected something more comforting than this when she came back, but so far all she’s had have been hours and hours to herself, a few awkward chats with Nerys, and an awkward dinner with her father that had been cut short by the Vorta who followed him around.

It’s disappointing.

She’s contemplating calling her roommate—a half-Bajoran, half-Trill girl named Penny who had moved in only a month ago when the Bajoran girl she’d been assigned to live with originally just couldn’t take it anymore. Or so she assumed that was the reason—she hadn’t known about the transfer until after she’d come back from a weekend she’d spent with Nerys in the country. They’d struck up a tentative friendship over the past few weeks, mostly because Penny was just insistently nice, and right now she felt like the only person who might provide any sense of normalcy. Anything to distract her from the strange atmosphere of Deep Space 9—or Terok Nor, as the Cardassians called it.

Her comm device goes off before she can do anything else, lighting up with a message from someone she’d not been expecting to hear from today.

hey!

She blinks down at the message, using her other hand to half-heartedly continue stirring the soup she’s been trying to eat for the past half hour. She debates leaving the message for later, because she still worries here and there about her father finding out she’s been talking to the son of Commander Sisko… but the loneliness hovering over her gets the best of her.

Ziyal smiles a little as she types back a response.

Hi!

The typing bubble pops up for just a moment before her comm device beeps again.

how r u? ur on ds9 again right?

I am, yes… how’d you know? Haha you’re not spying on me, are you?

She doesn’t actually think he’s spying on her, but she does think it’s odd that he’s chosen now to bring this up. She catches herself pulling her jacket closer around her shoulders, glancing around the half-empty Promenade to see if maybe Jake’s trying to lead in to showing up in person. It’s a little nerve wracking, though she’s not really sure why, to think about being seen sitting down with Jake Sisko so openly in the middle of the Promenade.

Not that they’ve ever spent significant amounts of time together in person, now that she thinks about it. She’s pretty sure they’ve only seen each other in person a handful of times, compared to the hours and hours of messaging conversations they’ve had. Staying up late discussing whatever stuffy Bajoran literature she’d been reading for her required elective course with him had been one of the few things that she looked forward to, most days.

Her comm device distracts her from her thoughts.

spying? me?? please lmao u told me about ur trip last week remember?

Oh. Right.

She had done that, hadn’t she?

Another message lights up the device before she has a chance to respond.

i also saw u in the promenade the other day. wanted to say hi but i didnt want to be weird, ya know? plus im not sure u wanna be seen with me since im Federation lol

Ziyal reaches for her tea to hide her smile, letting out a puff of air from her nose in place of a laugh. Some part of her is surprised that he had the foresight to avoid being seen with her in public, but she supposes that’s how he’s been surviving for this long on his own here. Making himself seem clueless and non-threatening has been the only thing keeping him safe from the Dominion—he’s not stupid, despite how some of his stories with Nog sound.

She bounces her foot as she types her response.

That was probably a smart move with the whole… state of things lately haha. Not that I’d be opposed to us figuring out a way to spend some time together. My trip has been lonelier than I thought it was going to be

It’s one thing being on Bajor and feeling like an outcast—that had been something she expected. She’d always stuck out, even when she was a child, even though there were other half-Cardassians out there. She knew the stigma well, and so even though it was disappointing that she’d not managed to break through to anyone, she could deal with it. Being alone in a place she’d come to think of as home in the brief time she’d spent here was… worse.

Her eyes are drawn to the closed up shop across from her table—Pendragon’s Curios and Oddities had been a place she’d frequented when she first came to Deep Space 9. The owner, a half-Betazoid named Nox, had become one of her only friends during those first awful weeks. She’d lent Ziyal any book she wanted out of the Rare Books section, free of charge, and had only asked that she stop by with a tarkalean tea every now and then.

“I’m lonely, too,” she’d said once, without prompting because Betazoids are like that. “You’re good company.”

But Nox isn’t here now. She’d left for Betazed, last she’d heard, with the rest of the evacuees when the Dominion first arrived.

Her comm device goes off again.

yeah? the station is a lot emptier now isn’t it?

She snorts.

Not surprising, given the fact that Cardassia has moved back in, is it?

Jake’s response is swift.

no!

Her brow ridge twitches, and she goes to ask him what he means, but the little Jake Sisko is typing notification appears before she can.

not cardassia - it’s the dominion everyone is afraid of

The Dominion, who her father invited here personally. It’s his fault that they’re in this situation—Cardassia’s fault for agreeing to it instead of standing their ground. It was the only logical decision, her father had said. The only path to redemption, for Cardassia to be the superpower it had always been meant to be. She’d be proud to be Cardassian by the end of this, mark his words.

She wasn’t so sure about that, but what does she know of Cardassian pride? Only what it meant to those who had been hurt by the occupation, what it meant to the Cardassians who saw her as lesser for the Bajoran bumps on her nose. She only knew that her father was proud to be Cardassian, that Garak was so fiercely proud of his home and his people that being even this far away from Cardassia Prime was torture.

But even Garak hadn’t been keen on the Dominion alliance, so she still isn’t sure what to think.

She sets her jaw as she sends a response.

You wouldn’t know there was a difference if you saw the way people look at me lol

Somehow, the side-eyeing had gotten even more pointed and forward than it had been even before the Dominion had come into the picture. The Cardassians on the station couldn’t seem to figure out how to feel about her, and any Bajorans who had been required to stay on board for work reasons—well, all they can see are her ridges, however soft they may be.

The response she gets back from Jake almost makes her laugh.

for real? do i need to kick someone’s butt for u?

Taking another drink to hide her grin, she types her response.

What good would that do, Sisko? You might risk snapping one of your fragile human bones and all the Federation doctors are gone.

She has to fight the urge to smile for several minutes as she waits for him to respond. Teasing had been something she hadn’t quite expected from this when they’d started talking—she’d never really had any friendships quite like this, after all. Nerys didn’t tease her, and neither did her father. Everyone else either didn’t want to talk to her or was too afraid of who she was to be playful like this. Her new roommate, Penny, was the closest any of her other relationships got, but they’d not known each other quite as long as she’d been talking to Jake.

The next response she gets from him is an image with words overlaid on top of it.

The image is just a fairly unflattering picture of his face from the nose up. From the looks of the background, he’s sitting in Quark’s, which is probably one of the only places on the station he feels comfortable at the moment. All that’s written on the picture is:

wow. rude.

Ziyal can’t quite bite back the laugh that bubbles up at the picture. Two Cardassians standing in line for the replicator look over at her curiously, and she has to force herself to start coughing to pretend like she wasn’t laughing. Not that she thinks they’ll actually ask her what’s so funny, but she doesn’t want anything to be suspicious. She doesn’t want anything getting back to her father right now. Not when they’ve only just managed to get back on speaking terms after she refused to return to Cardassia with him. Whatever her father had done during the war, he was still her father and he was still all she had.

She didn’t want to risk ruining that again—not yet, anyway. Not until she’s had a better chance to sort out her own feelings on…

Well, on everything.

Suddenly uncomfortably aware with how very exposed she is sitting here on the Promenade, she decides it’s high time she return to her quarters.

The truth is, despite whatever she’s told Nerys and her father, she’s still not adjusted to being able to live freely. Some days she wakes up still expecting to be in the Breen labor camp, still waiting for a father that she knew in the back of her mind would probably never come. She’d expected to live the rest of her life in that mine, as sad as it had been, and it’s weird being free again. It’s weird to be able to go anywhere she pleases, any time she pleases, and have nothing bad happen to her as a result. She’d never been so free, even before the shipwreck on Dozaria.

It’s weird being around people again, too.

Even with the new, strangely vacant atmosphere left on the station after the Dominion alliance, there are still so many people around all the time. So many people, who all feel like they have some kind of opinion one way or another about her existence. Sure, she’d been around other prisoners and Breen guards back in the labor camp, but that had almost become something she could tune out after 6 years of it. The creeping feeling of being watched—or leered at—trickles down her back at the oddest of times here when she’s just minding her own business, and more often than not she can find at least one person peering curiously at her, trying to figure out why she looked the way she looked.

Of course, she could also be imagining it, she supposes. Perhaps it is all in her head, and no one’s really paying that much attention to her. Maybe she’s just overly paranoid after the uncomfortable looks she’s had to deal with on both Cardassia Prime and Bajor that everyone secretly hates her. Maybe people really don’t care, and she’s just too self-absorbed to believe otherwise.

Or maybe not. Maybe she’ll always be an outsider no matter where she goes, no matter what she does, and she’ll just have to get used to it.

Either way, she’s done with the Promenade for the day, and she’s ready to retreat back into solitude for the rest of the night. Hopefully enough people have seen her out and about to assuage any concern Nerys might have about her isolating herself that she wouldn’t be getting any surprise visits or lectures about taking proper care of herself.

Not that she doesn’t appreciate the worry. Of course, she does. She’s also very aware that, had Nerys not been there when her father found her in that mine, she herself would be very much dead.

Just… gone. She’d be gone without Nerys.

...she needs to get out of the public eye for a bit.

Ziyal manages to make it to her quarters just as the familiar, uncomfortable tightness in her chest makes it impossible to keep her face trained into the careful, neutral mask she’s constructed to keep herself out of trouble in public. The door slides shut with a quiet whoosh behind her, and she gasps in a rough breath of air at the sound. She leans back against the cool metal for a moment, closing her eyes and listening to the sudden, frantic beating of her heart in her chest.

Though the station is not longer controlled by the Bajorans, the temperature still hovers a bit cooler than is comfortable for most Cardassians. She’s a bit warmer-blooded than full Cardassians, but the chill has finally settled into her skin to a point where it’s unpleasant. The shiver that runs up her spine is the first sign that the tightness in her chest is something more than she’d originally thought, and she finally caves to the crawling feeling just under her skin.

Temperature up. Lights down. Breathe. Count backwards from ten.

She’s been fighting this off for the past few days. The fact that it’s finally come to a head when her thoughts had taken such a sour turn isn’t surprising, but…

10.

Her heart beats unsteadily in her chest, fluttering like a panicked bird in a cage.

Her palms are starting to sweat. Even the strongest of her Cardassian genes can’t stop the slickness between her fingers.

She closes her eyes and tries to ignore the uncomfortable fullness behind her eardrums.

We’re not gonna faint. We’re not gonna faint. We’re not gonna faint.

Her comm device chimes from her wrist again, but she barely hears it. The ringing in her ears has crescendoed to a mind-numbing level, and all she can hear around it is the thudding of her heartbeat.

Inhale. Balikam. Balikam. Balikam. Exhale.

The ringing fades as she takes another slow, shaky breath. She doesn’t open her eyes, but her awareness of her surroundings is coming back into focus.

Under her breath, she hums a few notes of a melody she’s long-since forgotten. Something her mother used to sing for her when she was a baby that has always helped her through moments like this - even back in the mines.

She can feel the floor beneath her feet. Her lips tingle. The comm device on her arm chimes with another notification.

She takes another slow breath and opens her eyes.

The world doesn’t spin anymore, and though she still feels a little shaky, her head is clear enough to get her from the front door to her little sofa by the window. She collapses onto it, sinking into the cushions as much as the unforgiving material will allow. Rubbing tiredly at her face, she tries to will away the last of the shakiness from the episode. She’d gotten so good at controlling them back in the labor camp, but somehow being free has made it that much harder to keep herself calm and collected. The fact that she was able to stop this one in its tracks isn’t really a good sign, either—it’s just putting off the inevitable. Every episode she fights off adds to the buildup of nerves for the middle of the night breakdown she’s got on the way.

Her comm device chimes once more, somehow louder and more insistent than the last two times. As her heartbeat slows, she finally finds it in her to look down at the device.

Jake had sent her several messages a few minutes apart during her walk home. The first, he sent after she didn’t answer the picture message he’d sent for several minutes.

anyway.. what have u been up to since u got back?

The next was sent a few seconds later, accompanied by a little yellow smiling face.

think u might wanna drop by quark’s tonight? i’ll buy ! :D

The last, final message was just sent, several minutes after the previous one. She frowns a little at it, a pang of unexpected guilt twinging in her chest.

sorry if anything i said was weird i havent spoken to anyone my own age in a while lol

She hadn’t expected the invitation, certainly, but he has no reason to apologize. She had no idea how it might be perceived as weird for him to invite her out for drinks—it’s more than anyone else her own age has in…

...well, in ever.

Ziyal hurries to type another message back to him. As much time as she’d spent stewing over people brushing her off at the university on Bajor, she didn’t want Jake to feel the same way over her. Especially since she wasn’t trying to brush him off.

No, it’s okay! I was just walking back to my quarters and didn’t see your messages until just now.

He responds faster than she’d been expecting, and it makes her lips twitch a little, the ghost of a smile trying to curl the corners of her mouth. Though she’s still feeling off, it’s so incredible to have someone so worried about how she feels that she can’t quite bite back the little flutter of excitement in her gut as he sends his response.

oh good!! im glad i didn’t make u uncomfortable lol

The padd beeps again almost immediately.

ur probably all settled in for the night now tho so nvm about quark’s

It surprises her, still, how some people care about her comfort, and put her comfort before their own wants. They’re few and a bit far between, but she’d been in that labor camp for 6 years, and it was hard to remember what it was like to have her feelings respected, to have people care about her feelings. Even before the labor camp, she’d still had less of a say in what she did and what happened to her than, say, her father had because of who she was. Her mother being a Bajoran under her father’s rule had been unfair even at the best of times, and that meant they’d ended up with far less freedoms than they would have if she’d been full Cardassian.

She shakes herself out of that dreary train of thought before it can go any further. Spiraling won’t do her any real good, and she doesn’t want to hold onto that weird little pit of resentment in her gut. Not when her father is trying so hard to make her feel loved - that’s far more than a lot of other people have in their lives. She should be grateful to have what she does have, and not dwell on what could have been.

...maybe a night out with Jake wouldn’t be such a bad idea. She could really go for a drink and a distraction right now anyway.

As tired as she is of being around people, she’s even more tired of being alone.

Balikam: 'go away!' or 'get lost!' in Bajoran, as heard in the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, 'Ensign Ro'

all the comphet pairings ds9 made me sit through and they didnt even TRY to do this one so i guess i gotta do everything my goddamn self jfklsd

next chapter: Quark's Bar, Grill, Gaming House and Holosuite Arcade

#star trek #star trek: deep space 9 #ds9 #star trek ds9 #jake/ziyal #jake sisko #tora ziyal #star trek fanfiction #my writing #SHES HERE

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