My Own Eyes

By Laura Schiller

Based on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Copyright: Paramount

Computer, begin recording personal log.

The last few days have been unbelievable. I'm not sure where to start. Worf and I just got back from being imprisoned on a Breen ship, of all places – and Damar, of all people, helped us escape. I think he did it to spite Weyoun. Whatever his reasons, I'm just happy to be back.

It all started when Worf's ship was attacked and his escape pod got lost in the Badlands. When I heard, I was devastated. The Jadzia in me took over. I kept thinking about our – their – marriage, how happy they were, how they used to banter back and forth like tennis players. They loved each other so much, like something out of an old legend – Kahless and Lukara. On their wedding day, she swore to "stand with him against all who would oppose them". I was Dax, my promise was her promise. I had to go.

So I went into the Badlands, alone, in a runabout. An experience I don't care to repeat. To think I thought regular space travel made me sick, try being buffeted by plasma flares like Ben's baseball! Ugh. But I still found him. Worf, that is. He says he spent his time in the pod singing Klingon opera. Some things never change.

Anyway, we ran into a whole fleet of Jem'Hadar and crashed onto a planet called Golaris Three trying to escape them. I have the worst luck. And to make it worse, we spent almost the entire time bickering about Jadzia. I was dragging the subject up like a targ with a fresh kill. I couldn't help it. All the things he would never let me say before just came boiling up. We were stuck with each other, after all.

I'm not sure how it happened. We were arguing – about what's his name, Captain Oday? Jadzia's ex-boyfriend whom I had dinner with once. Worf went all posessive husband on me – as if he had a right! He called me a nasty name in Klingon, I tried to slap him, he grabbed my wrist, and suddenly we were kissing. I won't go into details here, but suffice it to say, I've still got the bruises. And the bite marks. I don't know how in the worlds to explain that to Julian during my physical! I could blame it on the Breen, but that would be lying.

The Breen. Ugh, that's right. They stunned us in our sleep and, next thing we knew, we were waking up in a prison cell. What happened next was one of the most horrible experiences of my whole life. I'm not sure how to describe it. The Breen have these mind probes – it's like having your mind ransacked and turned inside out like clothes spilling out of drawers, or a garden pulled up by the roots. It hurt so much. I thought I was going insane.

They did it to Worf as well, separate from me, and when they brought him back, he was delirious. He called for Alexander, his son, and for Jadzia. I must have been like that. Except that, according to Worf, I was talking about my love for … for Julian Bashir.

Worf was outraged. How could I mate with him when I had feelings for another man? He accused me of dishonoring us both. I told him I honestly didn't realize I had feelings for Julian. How can I be sure, anyway, which feelings are mine and which are Jadzia's? Now I know why reassociation is taboo! Still, I can't say I regret making love with Worf. If we hadn't done it, I might have been forever wondering, what if? Now I know for sure we could never make it work.

I don't like conflict. I'm a counselor. My job is to solve disagreements, not start them. Jadzia liked to argue with Worf; it was like a game to her. I hated every minute.

In the end I told him it all boils down to one thing: does he love me the way he loved Jadzia? And he doesn't. No wonder he lost his temper. Klingons take the act of love very seriously: for them, it usually means a lifetime commitment. But the wedding vows he made with Jadzia don't hold true anymore. I don't belong to him, and holding on to me just because I'm Dax would make us both miserable in the end.

So we both made a mistake, but it was a mistake that had to be made. We shook hands and agreed to be friends, which should be an interesting experience. Now the only man I have to worry about is Julian – but more on that later.

Weyoun offered us a bargain at one point: either turn spy for the Dominion, or be executed. Worf killed him where he stood. Of course there's always another clone, but it's the gesture that counts. Besides the insult to our honor, Worf didn't appreciate Weyoun's comments about Julian and me.

Damar shot the Breen guards who were supposed to escort us to execution, and stole a shuttle for us. He said to tell the Federation leaders that they have, quote-unquote, "an ally on Cardassia Prime". Meaning him. I think he was Weyoun's second-in-command, but the Breen general seems to have replaced him. He laughed when Worf snapped Weyoun's neck. Some personal resentment there, I see, as well as the political kind.

We didn't say much on the way back to the station. We were exhausted, both from what the Breen did to us and what we did to each other. I could have cried for happiness when I saw Deep Space Nine on the viewscreen, and then Ben, Miles and Julian standing by the airlock to welcome us. Ben didn't even reprimand me about disobeying orders an losing that runabout. I think Julian was about to hug me, but Miles got there first.

Julian. When I saw him standing there … it's not as if I don't know what he looks like. I have memories of him from two lifetimes – tall, tanned, brown eyes, elegant British accent, etc. I know he's an attractive man. So why did I feel like I'd never seen him before? And suddenly there he was, saying, and I quote, "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you". Very softly, as if he really meant it. And everything just snapped into place like a perfect holoimage – this is right, this is real.

Oh, I know Curzon would be laughing at this, and Jadzia would smile and condescend. I sound just like the green little ensign I was before being joined. But it's how I feel, and not even three hundred years of borrowed experience from Dax could have prepared me for how wonderful and scary it is to fall in love.

Julian is my friend. I don't want to ruin it. I don't want him to use me as a subsitute for Jadzia, the way Worf did. I know he had a crush on her.

I remember the first day I, Ezri, met him. I was trying to order a drink at the replimat, changing my mind every couple of seconds because each of my hosts would have ordered something different. Julian ordered a Fanalian toddy for me. It's been "my drink" ever since.

He told me I had Jadzia's eyes. I told him she would have chosen him if not for Worf. I wish I hadn't said that now.

The truth is that Jadzia didn't know a good thing when she saw it. She liked him, of course, but he was like a tribble for her: cute, but not to be taken seriously. He gave her his journals from the Academy to read, can you imagine? She couldn't be bothered, not even that time she thought he was killed in a biogenic weapons explosion. I would have read them. I want to know.

I do not have Jadzia's eyes, thank you very much. I have my own eyes. I can see what she couldn't, which is that Julian is the most brilliant doctor, and the bravest, kindest, most incredible man I have ever known.

And in all my eight lifetimes, that's saying a lot.

End recording.