Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: DS9, or any characters appearing in this story, and I am not making money off this.


"Tell me," Came the calm and resolute voice of Dr. Julian Bashir from the dark confines of my mind, "were you afraid of dying when you were a child?"

I was wondering when he was going to speak to me again. Not many things will goad him into dumb shock, insufferably opinionated as he was about everything. But I suppose everyone has their breaking points, and I had just found his.

"Is that why you wanted to be joined? You wanted to be immortal, so you could never die?"

I wonder why he even bothers asking me these things. He already has the answer. If there was a point to his monologue, I wish he would get to it. I rubbed my hand down my face in fatigue. I was still trying to digest what I had just done - rape was a new one for me.

"I understand the appeal! You could hide your frailty behind a symbiont and inflict that same fear onto other people. It must have been the highest point in your life."

I can feel his disgust of me. I sneer in reply, but I'm in no mood to talk. He really had no room to judge me.

"You speak of hiding, Julian, but isn't that what you are guilty of yourself? Didn't you hide for thirty-odd years the fact that you were genetically enhanced? So where was your bravery during that time?"

"That is different. Besides. I have no victims. I save people, not kill them in cold blood, while I was hiding behind immortality."

I laugh then, the sound of it alien in my ears. He is so damn chivalrous! That he could even presume to delude himself on his self important quest to help invalids made me want to retch. He was a hypocrite. And he actually fancied himself a protector of these weak, inferior people. He felt he had a responsibility to protect those who were less fortunate than himself.

"Just because you don't kill humanoids for pleasure doesn't make us different. We are very much alike, you and I."

I can already feel his rage begin to bubble to the surface at the mere though of us being similar. I suppose I had insulted him in implying we were two sides of the same coin - probably because it was true, and he knew it.

"And how do you figure?"

He really wants to have nothing to do with me. And yet, he is tempted to argue and do battle with me. I wonder how long it has been since he's had a good quality conversation. Intelligent people were so hard to come by these days.

"Every time you develop a vaccine or cure, you feel in that moment superior to that bacterial or viral, infinitely small culture of billions of living creatures you lovingly call 'infection.' You deem them vile, and then you wipe them out. In a way, you're worse than I am. I killed people out of necessity and yes, sometimes pleasure, but you've made a career out of it."

"Bacteria and viruses are not people. They aren't complex. And they aren't my friends."

"Is it not still living, though?"

"It's not the same."

"Oh? So you're telling me that you don't assign yourself as judge, jury and executioner over creatures, deciding which ones do and do not deserve to die, based off of its complexity and design? You may as well learn to shapeshift and join the Dominion."

"Why did you do it? You're not a rapist."

He was changing the topic. And yet he sounded so depressed, as if this new subject truly overwhelmed him. Perhaps witnessing a crime committed against a friend had that kind of effect. I had never gone through it, myself. Even so, it wasn't as if I had killed her. Even now, I could see Jadzia's chest rise and fall as she breathed - perhaps it was laboured breathing, but it was breathing nonetheless.

"I wasn't planning to. It was an accident."

That was true enough.


It was an accident. That stupid little wretch of a Vulcan accepted a mission so close to his Pon Farr that two days after being adrift in space, after an MP wave from a dying star knocked out our electronics in dominion Space, he went raving mad. He had attempted to mind-meld with Dax to coax her into sex. He really wanted to keep this civil.

Coaxing, I assume he reasoned, even by a forced mind-meld, was better than forcing himself on her.

Bashir had intervened and shoved the Vulcan off of Jadzia. Of course, since all of the electronics were shot, he couldn't get to any medical supplies to incapacitate the Starfleet Officer. Even if he could get to tools, they wouldn't work.

The vulcan looked strained and red in the face, as if he was fighting an internal battle within himself. He looked terrified, and had muttered something about not wanting to lose control. But Pon Farr was a beast that wouldn't be ignored. He was to kill or be killed, and now in his defense of Jadzia, Bashir had inadvertantly cast himself as a male challenger for the only available female.

Bashir had evaded all of the vulcan's attacks except one; He reached out his hand and mind-melded with him. "You're better," He had whispered. And then Julian killed him.

Jadzia had bitterly questioned his decision to kill the Vulcan. And at first, she thought that maybe Julian had been frightened - she had seen men kill unecessarily out of fear before. But as she had continued to debate with him, she realized that he wasn't the slightest bit remorseful. In fact, Julian seemed to have ... liked it.

And then Jadzia had realized something was missing from her life. The barely noticible residue of murdurous temptation that she often harbored, carried by Joran Dax and ignored so completely, had been what was missing. What once was a constant lingering like an insignificant, old stain on carpet, was gone. And so was Julian's professional bedside manner. But she had never made any logical conclusion as to what happened.

The Vulcan had tapped Jadzia in an attempt to marry his and her thoughts together to form a bond. And instead of finding her, who was nothing like him, he had found me.

And as I had fought the Vulcan for dominance within his own body, he then transferred me to Julian through the mind meld. the Vulcan thought Julian would have been better able to fight off my attack since his own inner strength and willpower had been sabotaged by his biology and heat cycle.

But Jadzia had no way of knowing that, and I was inclined to leave her in ignorance of it. I killed the vulcan. It was a catharsis of emotion to end his life, and a cover-up of the body-snatching crime comitted. And so repairs on the ship continued, slow but steady with luckily no sign of Dominion ships, with only a minor argument over Julian's perceived poor decision.

A day passed. And then the fights began.

Jadzia had inquired about whether her fertility treatments - she was trying to have a baby with Worf - would wear off before they got back to the station. Julian had no idea what she was talking about. Or rather, I had no idea.

Julian's personality was already smothered and forced into the dark recesses of my mind, and I was free to roam. Free to feel, taste, smell, see. I was reborn.

In a way, Julian was my new host. Only I was dominant now, not the other way around. When I didn't respond to her question, she knew. She finally made the connection between Julian's change in behavior and Joran's missing presence within her. The sudden change in expression from confusion to anger was incredible. "You're not Julian." She whispered with certainty. I was obliged to agree. It would have done me no good to lie.

And in the following days, Jadzia was even harder to cooperate with. She argued. She was defensive. She wanted to stay on topic of repairing the ship, I wanted to talk about her.

I was attempting to heal the rift between myself and Dax. I wanted to tell her that although I could never forgive her for burying me in her subconscious and ignoring me so completely, that I wasn't going to let that get in the way of our Mission.

I was to help her get the runabout working again and get back to the station. Then I would leave on the next transport ship and hopefully disappear into obscurity with my new body and life. Then she told me she didn't want my help. She wanted me to return to Dax, and when that happened, she would bury me again. I suppose I had lost it at that point.

Not only did I not know how to get back to Dax even if I had wanted to, but the thought of being ignored, unappreciated, forgotten - Well, I had grabbed her wrist. I said something, though I don't remember what it was I said, and she backhanded me.

She cussed at me in Klingon, a trait I recognized as Kurzon's, and as she stood so defiantly in front of me, she looked like Lela, and I saw all these things in her that had existed in their previous hosts, and yet I saw none of myself. And it was a slap in the face that stung so much more painfully than her real slap. I had sacrificed my identity to be joined with Dax, to contribute myself to a noble cause. And she spat on that sacrifice.

"You would bury me after all I've done for you? After all I have given you?" I asked her. I had given Dax my body, life, and soul. Now I felt hurt, betrayed, rejected. Maybe if I could get through to her ...

"Yes." She said, in no uncertain terms.

And then the rage took over.

"Then I will bury you."

I attacked her. And she fought. Oh, she fought. I thought she would kill me, living among Klingons as she did. But that Bashir - those reflexes, faster than I thought possible and faster than I thought my mind could process - dodged every attempted strike, swipe, punch, kick, and countered with its own twice as fast and twice as hard.

I wasn't trained in hand-to-hand combat like she was. But I was fast. I was strong. And I landed each strike with near deadly accuracy. She bled. I didn't. The way my heart beat in my chest. I was sure it was going to explode through. I thought in a rage-filled haze that perhaps we would die together, here and now.

I shoved her on the command controls and pinned her against the window of the runabout, the stars twinkling behind her as we drifted dead in space. My breath was hot with fury. My skin was on fire. I wanted nothing more than to break her little ingrateful neck. Maybe I should break that glass and suck us both into space. My body trembled at the thought.

I threatened her. I would not return to Dax to be forgotten and essentially dead to the world. I would stay with Julian, but not before beating my memory into her with every last inch of her ingrateful skin. I was going to make sure I left no bone go unbroken. All I wanted was to see her bleed and suffer for her insolence - nothing more, nothing less. Just bleed. Rape had never crossed my mind. It just wasn't my style.

She tried to knee me in the jaw. But her ass slipped on a pad and her pelvis slammed against mine. And those eyes locked on mine. So full of hatred of me. I pushed her back, but never let go of her arms. I had her pinned. I considered bashing her head repeatedly against the control panels until she died.

And then I felt something pulse strong between my newfound legs. I glanced down, taken by suprise. I hadn't expected that result - I wasn't a sexual man by nature when I had my original body, I was an artist. But Julian's body was sexual, and the collision had woken up an animal within it.

She had taken notice of it.

"Oh, look at what you've done," I said casually, just slightly bemused at first at the pressure that had grown there. I felt embarassed and curious. Then I had thought it funny. He had found her very attractive, and I could feel from Julian's personality a deep love for her. He was so fond of that silly little girl that he gave her fertility treatments for that hideous chud of a Klingon. And it broke his heart. But he helped her anyway. His body was responding to the close contact in its own way.

But I was not interested in Jadzia in the way Julian was. She may as well have been a smear on the carpet for all I cared. And still Julian's body, blind and unknowing of the situation at hand, was begging for carnal reward. As far as it was concerned, it had done battle, it clearly wasn't dead thus it had won, and a very receptive, attractive female was nearby. What was the old human adage? "To the Victor go the Spoils"? It was something his body clearly beleived in. It felt it deserved a prize.

Still, I wasn't interested in violating her. But the body begged, and it had been a long time since I had felt that kind of contact. So I reasoned I would indulge in a grind and let it go, and let Jadzia throw her tantrum about it and about how I was a cold blooded killer and a body snatcher to boot.

So I ground against her, just one little push, fully clothed. A simple rub of my new, ready and willing appendage against the apex of her thighs. It was more to alleviate Julian's body's need than anything else. She looked terrified! She even tried to fight me again, and I wrestled her to the floor.

Human hosts are different than Trill hosts. They're more animal. They're more attached to their instinctive roots. I found that out the hard way. The humans say they have very few instincts, but they are wrong. I have more respect for them now.

So I forced myself on her. I wasn't even really aware of what I was doing. That ugly little animal-thing that I had been battling with had managed to take over, just as I had once taken over Julian, and it was having its way, much to my astonishment. I could hear Julian screaming in the dark cage of my mind. "Stop! She's on treatment! Joran! You can't do this!" And just as I had been for lifetimes, he was ignored.

I came to my senses immediately after his body's euphoric high began to fade. That simple-minded animal released its hold of me, and I was in control once again. Julian had tried to wiggle his way past my own personality in that brief moment of neutrality, but I shoved him back again.

Jadzia must have been hurt in the fight. She looked exhausted and defeated. Her eyes protrayed a feeling of deep betrayal. She had begged Julian to fight me.

I realized what I had done, what I had stolen from Worf, and I wanted to tell her it wasn't intentional. It was an accident, nothing personal. It wasn't my fault. I wanted to apologize. It was very ungentlemanly of me to lose control like that. But the only words I managed to utter were "Oops." And then I smiled. I was still panting from the encounter. I still had her pinned and her full attention. She deserved an explanation at least. "These humans have stronger instincts than trills. I'm surprised they control it as well as they do."

I almost laughed. I wanted her to remember me, all the future hosts to remember me. This is what happens when you disrespect Joran Dax. Well, I hadn't planned it like this - I was satisfied with a proper beating - but it worked out just the same.

I released Jadzia. She didn't move to attack me. At first I wondered why - I had just raped her. She wasn't that badly damaged. Why didn't she attack? I moved quickly away from her, curious but cautious. She raised herself from the floor slowly. She looked like she was in shock and pain.

And then I realized why she didn't attack me. The control panel behind her was shiny enough that it reflected Julian's face on its surface.

She didn't want to kill her friend over me.


"Oh, I have a hard time believing you raping her was an accident."

He had witnessed the unforgiveable violation of his best friend and was completely powerless to stop it. It felt good, that was true, but he had no way of knowing that it wasn't my intention.

And I did smile at her as she stared at me with those big blue eyes, so full of shock, disbelief, outrage and horror. To the onlooker it would look like I did it on purpose.

"You enjoyed it." He accused me.

"It did feel incredible, actually." I admitted.

"You never answered my question."

"And what question was that? I apologize, I'm having trouble remembering through this brain fog." I replied. I was alone in the quarters. Jadzia had retreated the opposite of the runabout, probably licking her wounds.

"That you fear death."

"Oh, that. Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. You were quite accurate in your psychologic analysis of my character." I was amused. He was trying to threaten my existence, but I failed to see how something like that was even possible at this point. I had won.

"You underestimate me and the power of my will. My knowledge. My memories." Our memories never meshed when the Vulcan mind-melded us together. Our memories were separate, he was right about that.

"I can afford to. I own your brain now and its superior calculations and reflexes. I don't need your memories or your," I waived my hand, "profession."

"Then I take it you have no idea how I am going to kill you."

I stopped smiling. Was such a thing possible?

"Oh, I assure you. It is." I could feel the satisfction pouring out of him. "And I am going to enjoy it, Joran." This did not sound like an idle threat, but I couldn't shake the idea that he was lying. He was probably trying to rattle my cage and distract me so he could try to take over again. Two could play at that game.

"Julian."

"What."

"My nuts feel great."

I felt a flood of disgust and rage. I chuckled low in my throat. Consider cage sufficiently rattled.

"You are a monster."

"Well, I never said I wasn't, did I?"


-finis

(You want to write the sequel? I'd like to see your take on what happens next. Hit me with a link in the reviews if you write one! :D Oh, and please review!)