Disclaimer: I own nothing. I don't have creative rights to anything. Leave me alone.

Chapter 13

When Dr. Bashir entered his Infirmary the next morning, he found Ezri awake, standing near the forcefield, and looking down at a pathetic clump of frozen nairait on the floor.

"Clever," she said hatefully. "Very…clever."

"You're not Ezri."

"Brilliant deduction, Doctor. You realize I can kill her any time, right?"

Bashir found it surprisingly refreshing that the nairait was openly controlling Ezri, and its bitter sarcasm made it easier to accept that it wasn't her. "You're threatening to kill her unless I let you go? But you must know that I know you'll kill her anyway. Besides, I'm a doctor and you're a disease. Of course I would let her die if it was the only way to keep you from spreading."

"But I would at least have the comfort of knowing her death would be on your conscience for the rest of your life." She pressed herself against the forcefield, convulsing as the currents repelled her.

Bashir knew the forcefield wouldn't kill her, but it still tormented him to see the woman that was once his lover writhing with pain. But he didn't give the nairait the satisfaction of seeing him react to it at all. Finally it gave up and fell back on the bed. "Anyway, I don't think you know how to kill us. You can force us into our inert state, that's all. We've endured that for countless years. How long do you think you can keep us like that? A hundred years? We'll be free eventually. We're nothing if not patient."

"Why do you infect humanoid hosts?"

"I think you already have a guess about that, Julian. Do you want me to confirm it? Deny it? Shoot. Tell me your theory. I know how much you love to talk about your work."

"Sentience," he answered darkly. "You're only sentient when you infect a sentient being. And you don't want to give that up."

"On your first try. For something so young, you are quite intelligent."

"What should I call you?" Bashir asked.

"It doesn't matter. We have no name for ourself. You have called us nairait, a name others gave us long ago that you shouldn't know."

Though he hadn't doubted the veracity of Kira's vision, he was still relieved to have it confirmed. "Are you all one entity, or is each host taken by a different entity?"

"What make you think it's that simple? The Borg are one entity and many. So are the Founders. The d'Yniln, though they perceive the universe in the same way most humanoids do, believe that all matter is part of a single trans-dimensional being, or at least that's how the Yniln I possessed centuries ago interpreted their beliefs."

"How much do you know about the Borg and the Founders?"

"As much as Ezri knew. I also know everything she knows about you. Which is a lot." She lay back on the bed and flashed a feral smile. "She's the first of her kind I've ever possessed. She's more like us than most humanoids. She remembers many lives. But the immortal part of her doesn't take complete control. It probably could, if it wanted to. If it tried harder."

"The Trill host and symbiont share an equal partnership," Bashir explained. "Why don't you try it with your hosts?"

"Why would I want to, when I can have absolute control?" she asked. "Besides, I'm not even sure it's possible. The only time the host has control is when we allow it. Or on the rare occasion when the host is strong enough to fight us."

"Why do you have to kill your hosts? Why did you kill Dr. Grek's colleagues and the Romulans on that warbird?"

"I wasn't sufficient to possess all of Grek's associates, and they knew too much. They were suspicious. As for the Romulan crew, I don't have their memories, but I understand it would be difficult to operate in the Federation while in Romulan form."

Bashir's eyes widened with understanding. "You were infected by Grek."

The nairait realized it had inadvertently revealed something it should have kept to itself. Ezri's features hardened. "It doesn't matter how much you think you know about us. You won't stop us. We will take over the Federation and the Klingon and Romulan empires. Then we will destroy the BYSEV. Without them to stop us, we will possess the entire galaxy in a matter of millennia. Then there will be no one to take away our sentience."

Bashir heard someone enter. He turned to see Burnau, who stood in the doorway staring at Ezri. "Lieutenant, what can I do for you?"

"Can we talk out of earshot of that thing?"

They stepped outside.

"Ro and Kira found another infection. They're not using the comm system out of concern that it's not secure. They want to know if you could put together another forcefield in an hour."

"No problem."

Burnau glanced back at Ezri. "She has no idea."

"Who?"

"That woman. Ezri Dax. She's being fed elaborate false memories. She thinks she's in Quark's right now, drinking synthahol and flirting with a Bolian. The nairait is using her experience and her memories to control her."

"And you can't sense anything from the nairait?"

"No. Nothing."

Kira scowled as she paced her office in agitation. Things weren't going as planned. "Kira to Vaughn, report to my office, now." There was still no response. "Vaughn, acknowledge."

"He's on to us," Ro opined. She stood inconspicuously in one corner. Burnau Bez, Arkra Woidil, and two other security officers occupied the office's other inconspicuous corners.

"Computer, locate Elias Vaughn."

"Elias Vaughn is in his quarters."

"Lock on to him and transport him to the Infirmary, Biobed Three." She waited a moment, then contacted Bashir. "You got him?"

"I've got his combadge," Bashir replied.

Kira swore loudly.

"Should we start a deck-by-deck search for him?" Arkra asked.

"We need a way to transport him to the Infirmary once we find him," said Ro.

Kira sighed in frustration. If the nairait knew they knew Vaughn was infected, it probably already killed him and found a new host. Kira didn't want to believe that. Vaughn was her friend.

"We need to figure out where the nairait in him would go," Bunau stated.

They all fell to silent thought.

Ro smacked the wall, causing everyone to look at her. "The Defiant!" she said. "We could lure him to the Defiant and use its transporters to send him to the Infirmary."

"If he knows we're looking for him," Kira said, "he might also know about the blockade to enforce the quarantine. I don't think he wants to escape."

"Maybe we should make sure he does want to escape," Arkra suggested. "We could activate the self-destruct countdown."

Ro shook her head. "If phaser fire doesn't hurt it, we can't be sure blowing up the station will destroy it. It might not be much of a threat."

"There may be another way," said Kira. "If we program the transporter to lock on to an energy spike, like what being shot with a phaser would cause…"

"Then all we would have to do is shoot him and he'll be transported to safety before he can infect us," Ro finished. "It might work."

"But it could take a while to program the transporter," Arkra cautioned. "I think Nog would be best for that job."

Kira nodded. "Arkra, Bez, go brief Nog. Tell him he has two hours to reprogram the transporters. Ro, take the rest of your officers and find Vaughn. Make sure you don't catch up to him too soon."

The security officers left to their tasks. Kira stood in her office thinking. She wondered if she should update Starfleet Security on their status, but decided it would be too risky if Vaughn was monitoring subspace traffic. He knew Deep Space Nine inside and out, and had more experience manipulating security systems than anyone else on the station. Probably even more than Garak had. Needless to say, they were in trouble.

"Nog to Kira."

She jumped at the sound of the communicator. "Go ahead."

"I've finished the…upgrade you ordered." She could hear Arkra's voice in the background, probably warning him not to say too much. "You can activate it any time."

"Thank you. Good work."

Nog finished ahead of schedule, as usual.

"That's a relief." The voice came from behind her, and belonged to Vaughn. "I'd hate to attack before you're sufficiently prepared."

She turned. Vaughn held the phaser she kept in her desk. "How did you get in here?"

"There's a Jeffries tube that opens right into your office. You probably should have done something about that."

She hit her combadge. "Kira to security. He's here!"

Vaughn leaped across the desk and kicked her in the chest. She fell to the ground with a grunt.

He kneeled next to her. "Don't worry. You'll have killed me by the time they get here. I won't even have had a chance to infect you…as far as they'll know."

Nairait dripped from his mouth. She barely managed to roll out of the way. It pooled on the floor, then shot towards her, latching on to her hand.

The door hissed open. Burnau's phaser first shot the nairait attacking her, then swerved to Vaughn. Both disappeared in the light of the transporter beam.

"Are you okay?"

Kira knelt clutching her hand, shaking, and biting her lip against the pain. Blood seeped through her fingers.

"The transporter must have taken some of your hand with it when it beamed out the nairait. You should let Dr. Bashir treat that."

She nodded and rose shakily to her feet.

"Sounds like Lieutenant Bez got there in the nick of time," Bashir said as he treated Kira's hand.

"Did he?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how do I know it didn't infect me before he walked through that door?"

"Good question," he agreed. "In fact, since it seems nairait provides its host with false memories, you don't even know that he walked through that door. But this is no time to start questioning our sanity."

"Seems like the perfect time to me."

"I suppose. But we can't let that uncertainty paralyze us. All anyone can ever do is what circumstances lead them to believe is best. That's as true now as it ever is. And if we are infected, we just have to hope someone else can find the cure soon." He gave her now-healed hand a gentle squeeze and smiled at her. "We're still getting together for that chat tonight?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll see you later."

As she walked out, Kira rubbed her hand absently. Something didn't make sense. Before Bez fired his phaser, she had the sensation that her body itself was trying to fight the nairait. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she didn't have much of an imagination. And she had the awful tendency to remember battles with crystal clarity.

Kira walked in to Vic's lounge that night wearing the Earth-style gown Odo had given her. She scanned the crowd for Bashir. He was sitting at a table near the stage and wearing a tuxedo. She made her way back slowly, looking for any other familiar face hiding among the holographic patrons. She hated having to distrust those closest to her, those she knew best.

She was about to sit down across from Bashir when Vic came over to her and swept her into a hug. "Haven't seen you in a while, Dollface. Always a pleasure."

She smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before extricating herself and taking a seat. "You know I'd love to drop by more often, but I'm so busy these days."

"I understand. Hey, there's something different about you tonight." He tilted his head back and scrutinized her.

Kira was reminded of the vision. Something deep within her became very cold as she waited to hear what Vic would find.

His elegant face cracked in a smile. "Ah. I know that look. That's the look of someone thinking of popping the question."

Kira nearly laughed with relief. "I'll let you know Odo's answer."

"I think I can guess that already. What song would you like to hear to commemorate the occasion?"

"What about 'Fever'?"

They both smiled over a private joke. "'Fever' it is," he said, then left them for the stage.

Kira watched him walk up to the microphone and cue the band. Had the Prophets sent her a message through the holographic singer? We're they telling her to trust her perceptions?

"You're very…expressive with him," Bashir observed.

"He brings that out in people, doesn't he?" She decided to believe it was an auspice, and felt much better than she had all day. She looked at Bashir, and realized that if she could trust herself, and trust Vic, then she could trust him. "What did you want to tell me about the nairait?"

Bashir decided to start with analogy. "Have you ever heard of an Earth organism called lichen?"

"Sorry, but I never really had time to study exobiology."

Bashir didn't know whether to smile at the joke or wince at its painful truth. With how confident and competent Kira acted, it was easy to forget just how deprived her formative years had been. She'd never had any formal education, much less the years of Starfleet Academy most of Bashir's associates had been through. He moved on quickly. "It's actually a symbiosis of two organisms from completely different taxonomical kingdoms that are so completely integrated they appear to the uninformed observer as a single organism. In lichen, fungi provide suitable habitat for photosynthetic algae, and in return the algae create food for themselves and the fungi. Lichen thrives in environments too inhospitable for any other multicellular organism to survive."

"What does that have to do with nairait?"

He looked at her intensely and dropped his voice to a whisper. "You mentioned that in your vision you saw a different strain of nairait. From their quantum structure, I think different strains form while nairait travels between star systems, mutations stemming from exposure to cosmic radiation. But it was only after I figured out its quantum structure that I began to suspect we've already encountered another strain."

She lowered her voice to match his. "When?"

"During the last few years. I studied it myself, but I didn't recognize it because its structure is completely integrated with another lifeform. It's like the algae in lichen."

"And the other lifeform was like the fungus. I get it. But I don't understand why you've kept this to yourself, especially since it could help Starfleet Medical come up with a cure."

Bashir glanced up at Vic, who had just started another song. "When Odo was suffering from the disease Section 31 infected him with, he told me that changelings were once solid, and only later evolved into their present forms. He couldn't tell me how, and I've been curious about it ever since." He fell into a significant silence.

"And now you know," Kira breathed. "A symbiotic relationship with nairait."

"A mutually beneficial symbiosis, I might add," he said. "The nairait provides sustenance—that was another thing that always haunted me about changelings: where their energy came from, since they don't eat or breathe—and the nairait gives them the ability to shapeshift by changing its superstring structure into whatever form they desire. The other half—the solid, most likely humanoid half—gives it protection from cosmic radiation, mobility, and most importantly sentience. I've been investigating the possibility that the Founders' disease worked by keeping the cellular structure of the biological organism from interfacing with the nairait, which is why it caused them to lose their ability to shapeshift. That might provide a way to destroy the current nairait infection, but I'm afraid Starfleet Medical may panic and use it before we can be sure it won't kill the hosts. Besides…considering how much prejudice there is against changelings as it is, I'm concerned about what will happen if the public finds out changelings are related to this deadly parasite."

"Like the civil unrest on the Trill homeworld when it became common knowledge that the parasites that tried to destroy their civilization were related to the ones the Joined carry inside them," she reasoned.

"Exactly."

Kira poked at the tablecloth as she contemplated the possible repercussions. "What are the chances," she asked, "that the nairait hasn't already infiltrated Starfleet Medical and Starfleet Security?"

"I don't think even Quark would bet on those odds."

"Then maybe you should keep this between us for now," she recommended. "I think if there is a way this will help us find a cure, you're the most likely to discover it. Not only are you a genetically-enhanced genius, but you're also the quadrant's foremost expert on changeling physiology. If I have the opportunity to speak with Odo in the near future, I'll bring it up with him. I doubt he or any other changeling knows about this, but it's worth a shot."

"I agree," he said, relieved. "But from what the nairait in Ezri told me, I think our best chance is that the message you sent to the Beta Quadrant gets there quickly, and that there's someone there to hear it."

"Trust in the Prophets, Julian."

"I'll try," he said sincerely.

"Goodnight." She excused herself from the table.

He watched her as she walked away. How strange, he thought, that years of living with Bajorans who held on to their faith in spite of unconscionable oppression and suffering, with the Celestial Temple, Orb visions, the Emissary of the Prophets who also happened to be a human Starfleet captain—the strange juxtaposition of unexplainable miracles and mundane triumphs of faith—was almost turning him into a convert. It was also strange that Kira called him by his first name, an expression of friendship and trust that seemed miraculous itself considering how much she used to hate him.

Vic approached him. "Looked like a serious heart-to-heart you two were having," he said. "Is something wrong?"

Bashir thought about it. "Yes," he answered, "but I think we'll handle it. With the Prophets' help, I think we'll survive this."