~ Shadowrunner ~

By Mijra

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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, its characters or any of its concepts. I just love telling stories. And if you're enjoying yourself while reading this piece of fiction, that's all I could have hoped for.^^

Summary:

In the midst of the war with the Dominion, a mysterious ship of unknown origin is coming through the wormhole, the only person on board an alien of humanoid origin that seems to have been in stasis for a very long time. Trying to find out more about the visitor from beyond the wormhole by piecing together the tiny bits of information from the alien ship's log files, the crew of DS9 slowly learns about the tragic events that seem to have taken place more than a hundreds of years in the past. At the same time, the Romulans start to demand a stronger presence on the station as they consider DS9 the key point in the war with the Dominion. While Senator Remak is sent to investigate how far Romulan interests are taken into account on the station, Dr. Julian Bashir has problems all of his own: He can't shake the feeling that he is being watched. Something is lurking in the shadows – or is it just his imagination?

Note on the timeline

This story is set in the early days of season 7.

Note from the author:

Even if the first few chapters might suggest so, this is not a love story! On the contrary;)

It is also a continuation to my other story "The Darkness Within". It can be read as a standalone but it might leave you with some questions. It also contains a lot of spoilers for TDW.

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- Prolog -

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Julian thumped the setting of the phaser to a maximum level and set it gingerly next to him on the bedside table. A cup of lukewarm tee and some biscuits were the leftover of his dinner, sitting half-forgotten on the dining table. He wasn't hungry anyway. Not until this here was over.

With a quick look around he made sure that he was alone.

The silence in his quarters was almost deafening. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the low humming of the station's inertial dampeners. Or the high pitched tone of the life support. But otherwise his quarters were filled with a thick, stifling silence.

He took a deep breath and rubbed his tired eyes.

Then he sat down on his bed, leaning back against the wall, his gaze directed at the many pinprick-seized stars out of the viewport. Waiting. Wondering how on Earth it could have come this far...

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- Chapter 01 -

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"Please, I didn't do anything! I'm innocent. You have to believe me!"

The young man's quivering voice reverberated eerily from the dark walls around him. He was tearing desperately at the iron brackets that were securing his hands firmly behind his back. His voice was sore from all the shouting and begging, but still his captor wouldn't show any sign that he had heard – nor listened to – any of his words.

He felt an icy touch around his neck. The next instant he was hauled forward. Driven by his own momentum he stumbled and sprawled onto the cold stone floor. He cried out when his shoulder hit the ground and the air was knocked from his lungs. He tried to crawl away from the crude light that was blazing down on him from somewhere above. Kicking blindly at the unknown attacker, he struggled to roll onto his belly, his arms too wobbly and shaky to support his full weight.

Someone caught him by his shoulder, whirling him around. He knew that the time had come. He'd face death. But death was a mercy compared to what would be waiting for him should they ever find out about the data that was securely stowed away in the remotest part of his mind. That he would protect with no less than his life.

Gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, he braced himself for the blow that he expected to come. But instead, heavy hands shook him by his shoulders, forcing him to open his eyes again.

For a short moment, the blinding flash of light from the ceiling was all he could see. Then a black silhouette edged against the too bright white. He was hauled over, away from the light. But when he lifted his gaze to his tormentor, when he finally saw the looming and towering figure over him, nothing could have prepared him for the shock that coursed through him at the sight he had least of all expected to see. Here of all places.

His eyes grew wide with terrible understanding, his lips moving in utter bewilderment.

"Father?! Is that you?!"

It came as unexpected as a slap in the face.

Stunned and with a sudden bitter taste in his mouth, Julian Bashir stared for several seconds at the few lines at the end of the old and worn page, before he finally willed himself to tear his eyes from the text and shut the book in his hands close with a loud thud. A slightly irritated sigh escaped his lips as he lowered the book and let his head drop heavily back onto the pillow. Well, he definitely hadn't seen this one coming. And it had about catapulted his mood from bored and nearly half-asleep to sour and irritably awake.

Why had he even expected this one piece of Cardassian literature to be any different from all the other countless books he'd borrowed from Garak before. No story had ever had a happy end – well, at least not what he would have called "happy". What was it that made all Cardassian authors feel obliged to follow into the footsteps of their predecessors by writing yet another epic adventure about yet another martyr who ultimately sacrifices not only his family but also his own life for the sake of the Cardassian state. It was like an unwritten rule, and it could be very annoying at times. Every piece he'd read over the last seven years had dealt with death and destruction, with treason and unfulfilled hope. Either the stories had been utterly boring, or they had been written in such exaggeration that it made it hard for non-Cardassians to take the stories seriously. Hadn't it been for Garak's persistent nagging, he wouldn't even have bothered to read this one in the first place. A waste of time, as it had now turned out.

Rubbing his eyes in tired resignation, he rolled over in bed and dumped the book next to him on the bedside table. Tonight he definitely wasn't in any mood for yet another tale of Cardassia's many martyrs. Especially not after the unexpected twist the story had just taken. For a few long seconds, he kept staring absently at the old tome, lost in his thoughts, before he lay back down, pulled the bedcover up to his chin and ordered the computer to turn off the lights. A second later, his quarters were filled with darkness.

"Father?! Is that you?!"

Somehow, the line kept bothering him more than he would have liked, gnawing at him, even as he tried to surrender his exhausted body to the sleep he knew he needed desperately.

He'd worked double shifts. Again. There was just so much to do recently, and so little time. In a few days, another medical test for all Starfleet and Bajoran personnel was due and only the preparation took so much time that he hardly came around doing all the far more important things waiting for his attention. One of which was the check-up on Captain Martok and his crew. Not to mention the backlog of paperwork and the reports for Starfleet Medical. Or the conference with Admiral Nathan about his progress in trying to analyze and synthesize the Jem'Hadar drug Ketracel White. He still needed to write a report on his recent findings and hand it in till the end of this week. Better get to grip with that first thing in the morning - before another epidemic might decide to knock on DS9's door to keep him occupied for another two weeks. Or a Jem'Hadar assault. Or before Captain Sisko might change his mind in the eleventh hour and realize that running a restaurant had been far more interesting than running a space station.

Now in hindsight, he still wondered how they'd ever managed to get along without Captain Sisko. It had come utterly unexpected when the captain had suddenly announced some months earlier that he was going back to Earth, turning his back on the station and everyone relying on him. No one had seen it coming. And no one had really been prepared. He couldn't remember a time when Sisko had not been there, guiding them through difficult times, like a tower of strength. Not having him lead them in these dangerous times had been an odd feeling. As if something had suddenly been missing. And after the chaos the collapse of the wormhole had created, this loss had weighed heavily.

He sighed. Not that he could blame him for his decision. Not after everything that had happened.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he could still see Jadzia's dying face before his mind's eye, like a shadow that would be forever edged into his consciousness. Her fragile, lifeless sight on the biobed before him still tore his heart apart, and he still hated his own words on that fateful day when he'd told Sisko and Jadzia's husband that it was over. After all those long hours of surgery, it suddenly was the only thing that had been left of the six years they had shared and it had made him feel powerless and angry, and utterly alone. I was able to save the symbiont… but there's nothing I could do for Jadzia… And he knew that some part of him had died along with her that day. It had dashed whatever hope he'd still carried that one day everything would be like before. That one day the war would be over, and everything would just go back to what it had been like before. Before all this. Before the war. Before the chaos their lives had been turned into. Before every one of them had to learn how fragile a human life was. The thought had never even crossed his mind that sooner or later their paths would diverge – the same way as they had once crossed six years ago. That from one second to the other, the life he'd always taken for granted could be taken into a completely unforeseen direction.

A direction you've never seen coming… a direction you'd never have reckoned with…

He squeezed his eyes shut, and took a deep breath, rolling onto his side.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself that some part of her was still alive, living on in Dax, he knew he couldn't fool himself. Jadzia Dax, the woman he'd so madly fallen in love with during the first year they had spent together on board the station, was no longer part of this world. Gul Dukat had made sure of that. For some short second back on the day when he had seen Ezri in the airlock, accompanying Captain Sisko back to DS9, it had been like if they all had been granted a second chance. Like if fate had brought them together one more time. But Ezri was not Jadzia. And never would be. He knew that holding on to that tiny smidgen of hope was ridiculous. But somehow he couldn't will himself to let go just yet.

Burying his head beneath his pillow, he groaned. If he could just stop thinking. If all those thoughts would just stop tumbling back and forth through his head. He needed to sleep. Now.

"Captain Sisko to Dr. Bashir."

Torn from his thoughts, Julian reluctantly opened his eyes again.

"Bashir here. Go ahead." Rubbing the sleep from his grainy eyes, he propped himself on his elbows and squinted into the darkness.

"I'm sorry to wake you this late, Doctor, but we need you in the infirmary. You'll have an incoming patient. I'll explain everything else later!" The underlying urgency in the captain's voice all at once drove the last shreds of tiredness, as well as everything else, from his mind.

"I'm on my way! Bashir out."

Shoving the blanket aside, he threw a quick look at the chronometer. 0230 hours. Stifling a yawn, Julian grabbed his uniform and boots, wondering what could have happened so suddenly this late in the middle of the night.

When he entered the infirmary, the nurse of the nightshift was already anxiously waiting for him. No sooner had the doors closed behind his back than Captain Sisko's sonorous voice came once again over intercom. Apart from Nurse Lamara, the room was empty.

"Dr. Bashir, please prepare your team for an incoming patient. Some minutes ago, something came through the wormhole. We don't know what it is or where it comes from. It doesn't correspond with any starship pattern of our database, but wherever it comes from, our scan results show that the life support of the ship is failing. We cannot get a proper scan through the ship's hull but there seems to be one life form on board. It seems to be put in some kind of stasis unit but the power is failing. We'll beam it directly to you into the infirmary. I just contacted Security. They should arrive at any moment now. Are you ready?"

Judging from the captain's strained and commanding tone, there wasn't much time nodded, hastily gathering up his medical tricorder. "Ready as you can be, sir."

"Dax! Activate transporter beam. I want you to get a tractor beam on that ship and bring it in to shuttle port 5A. Make sure we get it in in one piece." The captain's firm voice echoed over intercom. There didn't seem to be a shred of tiredness in it, making Julian wonder if the captain ever slept.

Julian signaled to nurse Lamara to take a step back from the biobed, just as the infirmary's doors parted and Odo's security men came rushing in, their phasers at the ready. Only a few seconds later, a sparkling rain of atoms appeared on the biobed and another moment later the alien life form materialized fully in front of them. He had been prepared for much, but still, despite all his experience, the sight that suddenly lay before his eyes made a cold shiver run down his spine.

The alien was humanoid. Or at least it appeared so. And it looked very much as if it had come right out of an ugly nightmare. Its skin was of a dark, olive complexion, an odd color that must most likely come from an overextended exposure to stasis radiation. Long, lanky black hair was framing a weathered, emotionless face that was covered with little dark, bulging spots that spotted cheeks and forehead, another clear sign that the stasis unit must already have broken down to a level that had no longer been able to completely fend off the natural process of decay. Without a proper medical scan it was hard to tell how much of the alien's dermal structure or its vital organs had already suffered damaged beyond repair. The rest of the alien's slender body was covered in a plain brown gown. Where its hands protruded from the ragged sleeves, the same black, green spots of decay dotted the thick skin. There were no other ornaments, or emblems, or anything that might have given any hint as to the alien's status or rank. He might have been a civilian, or a freighter captain, or a high ranking diplomat. There was no way to tell. But whoever he might have been, he was already more in the world beyond than here.

Pushing his personal feelings aside, Julian's actions were immediately guided by professionalism. Within moments after the transporter effect had left the body and the sparkling rain had faded as quickly as it had begun, he'd already flung open his tricorder and was rushing to its side to run a short medical scan to see how bad the situation really was. The stranger's respiration was too weak and shallow, but at least it was there. It was more than he could have hoped for considering the fact that until moments ago he had been in a dying stasis chamber whose fate he soon would have shared. Taking the hypospray from Nurse Lamara, he quickly injected a mild neural stabilizer into the alien's nervous system. He needed to stabilize its cardiovascular system and prevent the patient from going into shock from the sudden and unprepared release from stasis.

"Get me 30ccs of Edaborin!" he quickly addressed the Bajoran woman next to him before his mind started to race how to salvage this situation. The dermal degeneration was alarmingly high. If it kept proceeding at this rate, it would lead to a failure of all vital organs. He needed to counteract the degeneration. Trying to ignore the stench of death and decay, he worked his way to unfasten the alien's uniform, pulling it open to get a better look at how far the dermal damage went, only dimly aware that the security personal had taken a step back. He couldn't blame them. Even without a look at his tricorder, he knew that he was most probably fighting a battle he couldn't win. Grimacing, he pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He wouldn't let him die. Not this time.

"Lamara, help me get him ready for surgery!" Julian called out as he set about pulling the alien's arms free. The young Bajoran woman looked for a moment as if she was about to throw up, but to her credit, she immediately started to move, quickly beginning to make the necessary preparations.

When he had worked one arm free, he involuntarily paused. Uncovered under the sturdy brown gown, intricate, black lines were snaking their way around the alien's forearm, running from the heel of its hand to the elbow joint. It looked like some kind of primitive, black tattoo. And a very crude one at that. The lines were shaky and unsteady, as if someone had done them in quite a hurry. Examining them closer, he involuntarily felt his stomach turn. The wound was old. Very old indeed. But there was no mistaking the inefficiency and dermal damage it had left. The lines had been traced with a blunt object, only sharp enough to damage the skin far enough to let the black liquid sicker into it. By the mere look of it the procedure must have been more than painful. Swallowing hard at the thought of such brutality, he hurried to get the other arm free. Here too, the same plain lines were adorning the alien's forearm. He studied the strange patterns for several more seconds, before some inner voice suddenly reminded him that he needed to hurry. Tearing his gaze from the ghastly sight, his eyes searched for his nurse.

"Everything's ready, Doctor."

He didn't bother to acknowledge her words when he set about donning his own surgical gown.

"Do we know where it came from?"

Captain Sisko was slowly pacing OPS, a cup of steaming black coffee in one hand, the other absently on his chin. It really was an awful late, or early hour and beside the few nightshift personnel, only Dax was keeping him company. Taking a sip of the hot brown liquid, he turned a questioning brow at his old friend.

The young Trill at science shook her head. "I ran another search in our database. There is no entry that comes even close to the ship design," she frowned as she bit her lower lip, her fingers dancing over the smooth surface of her console. "The only thing I can say for sure is that, wherever it comes from, it's not from the Alpha Quadrant. As far as I can tell it's not even from the Gamma Quadrant – but after all, it's not as if we knew everything about that part of space. It might well be that it comes from a region farther away from the wormhole, perhaps some distant world in the Gamma Quadrant that our explorers have not yet reached."

"Some regions deep within Dominion space?" a rather cool voice suddenly interjected, making Dax startle.

"Senator Cretak? What brings you up here at this late hour?" Captain Sisko raised one brow when he saw the Romulan senator step from the turbolift. He still hadn't got used to having a permanent Romulan presence on board the station. It was one of the things that had suddenly changed when he'd resumed his post as commanding officer on the station some weeks ago after the three months he'd spent with his son and grandfather on Earth. Even though Colonel Kira had already put him in the picture of all the recent events on board the station and the Federation's decision to grant the Romulan Empire a greater influence on DS9 with its center role in the war against the Dominion, he didn't like it. And he doubted that it had come this far had he been here to prevent it in the first place. But I wasn't, was I? he thought with a certain bitterness, watching the senator climb down the few steps to the operational table until her eyes were level with his. She didn't strike him as a woman ready to be put to flight so easily.

"The same as you, Captain," the senator said in a neutral voice, though Sisko could very well sense her underlying irritation about not having been informed of the recent events. She came over and took a seat at the small table, not bothering to wait for the captain's invitation.

Ignoring the ill-boding look on the senator's face, Sisko sighed and turned one more time to Dax. "So if I get you right, that means that we know as good as nothing about the stranger? No hint whatsoever?"

Dax shook her head, a slight look of embarrassment on her young face. "I'm afraid so."

"Any news from Dr. Bashir?" Sisko turned and stared out the view screen. The space around the Bajoran space station seemed to stretch out infinitely, quiet and even peaceful. But he knew that it was a lie.

"Not yet. He's still in surgery..."

Sisko nodded. "I'll have Chief O'Brien run a full diagnostic on the ship first thing in the morning. Perhaps he can find something in the ship's computer logs or get any hint from the ships components…" After another short moment, his brow furrowed into a contemplative frown. "Still no sign of any other ships following the first?"

"Negative," the young Trill replied, studying the readouts just in case she had been missing something. "No sign of pursuit. The ship was on its own."

"Do you think it has something to do with the Dominion? Perhaps a trick of some kind?" Sisko put a hand on his chin.

"I don't think so." Dax shot him a doubting look. "If they were up to something we would already have a full-scale attack at our hands. I don't think that the ship has anything to do with the Dominion. And as far as we know it was running on auto pilot – and for a very long time at that. Life support was at its minimum and according to the hull's damage it would have only been a matter of time until it just broke apart. The power cell was as good as empty. There's little chance that the ship was originally headed this way. Not if you take into account all the magnetic storms and ion currents out there that can take a ship without active navigation as good as everywhere."

"Or perhaps this is exactly what they want us to believe," the Romulan woman pointed out, crossing her arms before her chest. She too was staring out the vast view screen that hung above their heads.

"Like the Horse of Troy?" Ezri suddenly grinned but noticing the Senator's questioning gaze, she shook her head and quickly became serious again. "Just joking."

"I still wouldn't rule out that the Dominion could be behind it," the senator finally said in a tone that didn't hold room for objections. "Not as long as we don't know where it is from or what its intentions are. I expect you to keep me up to date on this matter. We cannot risk any slip-ups. Especially not now."

Sisko ran his hand over his beard, suppressing an inner sigh. He knew what Cretak was alluding to. "When's Senator Remak's ship due to arrive?"

The senator shot him a warning glance. "He's coming on the Vauthil. His ship will be here at 1100. If you haven't already prepared for the meeting, I would suggest you do now as long as you still have time." She suddenly severed eye contact and looked yet again out into space, as if she was seeing something in the distance only she could. "Senator Remak is not here to spend his vacation on the station. Please keep that in mind. He's here because he believes in what he is doing and he will leave no sooner than he has achieved what he wants." Her voice held no emotions but Sisko thought he could see a flicker of anger in her eyes. "He's a very powerful man, Captain, more powerful than you might think."

She suddenly turned around to him, her initial reserve suddenly gone. Instead, she almost seemed concerned. "If I were you, I wouldn't let my guard down. Not for one second while he's on board the station…" With those meaningful words, she shortly inclined her head toward both Starfleet officers and headed for the turbolift.

Sisko waited until the lift had carried her out of view before he slowly blew out his breath.

"Is he really that bad?" the young woman at his side grimaced.

Sisko arched one brow. "We'll see." And with another sip of his already lukewarm coffee, he added: "Keep me up to date about our guest and tell Julian to report to me as soon as he has any news." Then he headed for his office, making the young Trill wonder what business could bring a Romulan senator like Remak to come all the way to the station in person. With a worried look at the closing doors of Sisko's office, she couldn't shake the feeling that the captain already knew.

Hours after the battle had begun, he was standing in the doorway, the medical padd heavy in his hands. The battle was over. But he wasn't sure if he could call it a victory.

For some more seconds, he just stood there, watching the blue shimmer that was enveloping the humanoid life form at the far end of the room, pulsing and breathing like it was some living thing. Through the protecting light, the form below was hardly discernable, like something enveloped and frozen in ice. A decaying body that was more dead than alive, held in the here and now only by the persistent, unyielding grip of technology. A ghost from the past that should have long ago perished and left this world, but was still unable to find rest…

"Hi," a sudden voice tore him from his dark thoughts, making him spin around. Ezri was standing in the doorway, giving him that special smile of hers. Both hand clasped behind her back, she came sauntering over, taking a curious look around.

"I thought I'd check on you and see how our new patient is doing." She smiled when she came closer and threw a quick look into the back part of the infirmary where the pulsing light was everything that was actually visible of their visitor from beyond the wormhole.

Julian shook his head. "He's stable... at least for the moment. I had to put him back into stasis," he said with a frown, repeating what he had already told the captain some time earlier in his report. "The dermal damage was too severe. He's still alive, though only barely. " And with a sigh, he said: "I'm not sure if it is enough, though…"

"I'm sure you did everything you could." Ezri gently squeezed his arm. "Is there anything you could find out?"

"Apart from the fact that he's male and was in his mid-thirties when he was put into stasis? Not much." He called up some information on the padd. "Given the physical data from the scans I performed, the computer was able to reconstruct an image of what he must have once looked like."

He handed her the padd which she took – not without some hesitation. Her eyes studied the picture on the screen.

"He's handsome," she said absently with a slight smile, as if the face reminded her of someone she knew.

"He was handsome," Julian corrected, taking the padd from her with a sad frown. "He's been in stasis for a very long time. Much longer than anyone should ever be exposed to stasis radiation. Believe me, you wouldn't recognize the man if you stood directly in front of him." And for once he was glad that their visitor was safely shrouded away from any curious gazes.

"However, there is something even more disturbing about all this…" he slowly said, beckoning her to follow him. With a few taps he called up another chart on the diagnostic unit's monitor. "Judging from the progress of stasis contamination, he must have been in there for a long time, longer than any stasis unit was ever designed for." He shot her a meaningful gaze.

As Ezri took in the readouts, she couldn't help a shudder.

"I can't say for sure as their stasis technology seems to work slightly different from what we use in the Federation and there's no experimental data about excessive exposure to stasis radiation in our database because theoretically a human body could be preserved in stasis for more than a hundred years without any harming consequences for the patient's body. But given the fact that not only his skin but also his vital organs were so severely damaged even while he was sleeping in a still more or less functional stasis unit I would say he must have spent quite some time in there…"

"You mean, he's been sleeping in there for over a hundred years?"

Julian arched one brow. "Rather try a few hundred years."

Ezri shot him a disbelieving look. "Is this possible?"

"Theoretically," Julian admitted. "But it's never been tested. Stasis technology doesn't date back very long. A few hundred years, that's all. There once was a case when some individuals spent over two hundred years in a stasis chamber but that's the longest period that was ever recorded."

The young Trill frowned. "You mean Khan and his men? To the best of my recollection they had been put into stasis in the late 1990ies and have only been brought back when the Enterprise and Captain Kirk had found them in the late 2200ies."

For a short moment, Julian didn't respond, but then he nodded. "Yes."

While she seemed to mull his words over, Julian led her back toward the front part of the infirmary. "I put him back into stasis to stabilize the neural pathways but it's hard to tell if or when he'll be ready to bring him back to consciousness. Do we already know where he came from?"

The young Trill shook her head. "I wish I knew. There's literally nothing in our database. Benjamin has ordered Chief O'Brien to have a look at the ship this morning. If we can restore power to the ship's database we might find some clue as to where our guest was from - or headed to."

Noticing the tired expression on their chief medical officer's face, she suddenly paused, her lips drawing into a soft smile. "What about breakfast?"

He shot her a quizzical gaze about the sudden change in topics. "Breakfast?" And throwing a quick look at the chronometer he realized that it was almost 0700 hours. So this was why he felt as if he'd been awake all night. Sighing, he rubbed his tired and sore eyes. So that made it a triple shift...

"Sounds great," he smiled back weakly. Even if he didn't like leaving his patient alone, he knew that there wasn't much he could do right now anyway. He'd informed Captain Sisko about the alien's physical condition and had stabilized his patient as good as he could. Now the only thing they could do was wait and hope that the recovery unit could work the miracle that was necessary to bring their visitor back to consciousness. Checking that one of his nurses was taking over, he set the medical padd back on the shelf next to him. "So what do you feel like?"

Ezri grinned mischievously. "A big cup of coffee? With milk, no sugar! Feels like I've been awake for ages."

"No Raktajino?" Julian quipped as they walked out of the infirmary and onto the Promenade. It was still early, with only a few shop owners slowly getting to work to prepare for the day. Seeing them setting about opening their shops for another long day, he couldn't suppress a yawn. How long had he been awake? He shook his head. Too long already. His eyelids felt so heavy, as if they would just close if he didn't continue to make an effort to will them to stay open.

"How is the captain holding up so far?" he asked nonchalantly as they made their way to the Replimat, sauntering along the slowly waking Promenade.

Ezri clasped both hands behind her back, arching one brow. "With an ill-tempered Romulan senator storming up his premises?" She let out a humorous chuckle and her eyes lit up with the spark of mischief he knew only too well from Jadzia. "Quite well, so far. I just hope the senator won't put Benjamin to flight. Not after all the effort it took to bring him back to the station," she laughed, her blue eyes twinkling.

Julian watched her for a long second, before he finally came around and moved over to the replicator. Placing his order, he waited for Ezri to do the same before he took his mug of coffee and carried it over to the next free table. They sat down opposite each other, and for a short moment it felt like back in another lifetime, his mind remembering words being said over the same table with more or less the same person many years ago. He shook his head, banishing the sudden wave of nostalgia from his mind.

"So, how's the counseling going?" Julian asked as much to keep the conversation going as to distract himself.

"Oh," the young woman before him suddenly knit her brow. "The counseling…well… to tell the truth, whenever people knock on my door I'm not really sure who of us needs the counseling. I just can't shake the feeling that they're just coming to see me to…" she grimaced, "you know what I mean, don't you?"

"That they are only coming to see you to see the new Dax with their own eyes?"

"Well, that sort of hits the mark," Ezri said gloomily. But then she shook her head, a sad, almost wistful smile on her lips. "I mean, I know that everyone's just curious how much of their old friend is still in here," she placed her hand on her chest, "but that doesn't make it any easier for me. I know them. Even if they see me for the first time, I haven't forgotten about them. It feels weird. It's like I've known them all along even though I haven't ever met them before. Well, I mean, Ezri has never met them before. They used to know Jadzia but," she suddenly stopped, frowning at him. "I'm not boring you, am I?"

Julian couldn't help a smile. "Oh, no, on the contrary." With a pang of guilt he realized that he was actually enjoying it. Even though he didn't want to admit it, he found this certain insecurity about her quite... cute. Shaking his head, he tried to banish the thought out of his mind. They were friends, and that was all. He knew that Ezri was not Jadzia – and that he would seal his fate should he ever even consider asking her out for dinner. Worf, her former husband, would make sure of that.

He shook his head. "Just give them some time. I'm sure it'll pass…" He rubbed again at his eyes, only barely able to suppress a yawn. When he noticed her watching him, he guiltily shook his head and held up both hands. "It's been a long night."

"Yeah, I guess we could both need some sleep," Ezri smiled back. "Why don't you get some rest? I'm sure our guest won't be going anywhere soon."

For a short moment, he just thought about telling her that everything was okay and that he'd snatch some sleep after he'd finished the report for Admiral Nathan. But then, some rational part of him doubted that he would make any real progress in his present condition.

"I guess you're right," he sighed, downing the rest of his coffee and drawing himself up. "So, see you later?"

Ezri held up her hands. "Sure. You know, there's bound to be a staff meeting after Ben met our new senator. I'm not sure if I want to know what business brings a man like Remak to the station, though."

He laughed, biding her farewell.

Instead of heading for his quarters, though, he once more set off in the direction of the infirmary. Even though he was practically falling asleep on his feet, he didn't want to leave without the report for Admiral Nathan. Perhaps he could write at least the introduction…

Lamara seemed to be rather surprised about seeing him again so quickly. With an apologetic smile, he hurried to his office, snatching a free padd from the rack to download the data from his computer interface. While he sat down and waited for the download to complete, his eyes strayed yet again toward the back part of the infirmary where their guest lay still covered under the shimmering blue light in the stasis recovery unit. He couldn't help wondering where he came from. Or what he had been doing in a stasis unit aboard a dying ship with no obvious destination. It was a strange coincidence that the ship would find its way through the wormhole and to DS9, of all places…

The low chirp of the computer brought him back from his thoughts. With a quick tab, he shut down the interface, and hurried to draw himself up. Throwing a last checking look around, he headed for the door, his thoughts already busy with how to start the report about the Ketracel White.

Until a strange sound suddenly made him stop.

Unsure he turned almost in reflex, held back by the sudden noise that had pretty much sounded like something heavy thudding to the floor. He frowned, not sure if it had been just his imagination. Had it come from the back part of the infirmary? A quick look around showed no sign of anything unusual or anything out of place. He let the padd in his hand sink and slowly turned around.

"Lamara?" he called out, with a sudden strange feeling in his stomach. His eyes searched the room for his nurse but she was nowhere in sight. Perhaps she'd gone to check on their patient. He quickly crossed the infirmary, heading for the door to the adjoining room where their guest still lay lifeless and unmoving on the only biobed of the small room.

At the door he stopped and strained to listen once again into the silence. He could have sworn that he'd heard something. He shouldn't have bothered and went straight back to his quarters, but something held him in this place almost against his will. Letting his gaze wander through the room and back to the biobed in front of him, he couldn't find anything amiss here either. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Perhaps he was just stressed? He frowned, his eyes dropping down to the blue light that was enveloping the biobed, the stranger's face only dimly discernable under the protective shimmer. For a long moment, he just stared at what little was visible of his face, his own heart thudding loudly in his chest. The pulsing light was mesmerizing. Almost against his will, he found himself bending closer over the sleeping body. Something held him captive. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something…

"I'm here, Doctor."

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice behind him, almost dropping the padd in his hands.

"Lamara?!"

His nurse was standing a few feet behind him, a look of stunned bewilderment on her young face as she saw his startled reaction. "I'm sorry, I thought you'd been calling my name," she quickly apologized, her eyes straying down to the biobed behind him. "Is everything okay?" She looked genuinely worried, at the same time not sure what was wrong.

"Ah, yes, sorry, I…." he began, utterly unsure what was up with him. And from one moment to the other the spell was suddenly broken. "It's nothing important," he quickly shook his head, scolding himself for jumping at shadows so easily. He drew a long breath and tried to calm his thumping heart. "I just wanted to inform you that I'll be off for a few hours. If there's any news or anything with our patient, just call me."

With that he threw a last and long look down on his patient, before he excused himself, heading straight back to his quarters.

It was definitely time he got some rest.