Blessings
Well, Multiverse authors have been revealed, which means I can post my two contributiuons to the madness, starting with the one I actually wrote for a recipient.
Title: Blessings
Author: LadySmith
Recipient: megthelegend
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Star Trek: Deep Space 9/Farscape
Summary: Grieving the loss of a loved one is hardly unique to one's own universe. Sometimes it's easier to talk to a total stranger about the most private of pains. Kira&Stark Gen.
Notes: Takes place between "Life Support" and "Heart of Stone" for DS9, and after "Peacekeeper Wars" for Farscape. Major spoilers up to those points for both.
Disclaimer: Farscape and the characters and settings therein are the property of the Henson Company, Star Trek: DS9 and the characters and settings therein are the property of Paramount; both are used here entirely without permission but entirely with respect. This is for love, not for money.
Acknowledgements: This fic could not have been completed without Memory Alpha and the script archive at Star Trek Minutiae. Thanks go out to astrogirl2 for the speedy and succinct beta, for tightening up more than a few sloppy phrases, and for catching a huge error that would have made me look like an idiot. Much love.
Dedication: For Nana and Paul, of course, and above all for Meg, as I never would have dreamed of putting these two in a room if not for her modest request.
~~~
Blessings
Station Log, Stardate 48507.9: An unscheduled arrival through the wormhole has brought us a mysterious guest from a species otherwise unknown to us. He calls himself Stark, and after a thorough examination, Dr Bashir has confirmed that the visitor's species - apparently called Banik - are completely unknown to us, and possessed of unique and puzzling physiology. Perhaps most strangely of all, Stark came to us speaking perfect 20th century-era English, which he claimed to have learned from a human named John Crichton. We can find no records of this Crichton however, and his descriptions of his home region of space conform in no way at all to what we've managed to map of the Gamma quadrant. Lt Dax believes him to be from an alternate timeline, and Stark agrees with her, after a fashion. He calls our space-timeline an "Unrealized Reality" and claims that this Crichton - apparently an expert on wormholes - will be able to lead him home if he can somehow contact him. He is however, at a complete loss for how to accomplish this. Despite his mysterious origins and nature, Stark has proven to be a peaceful and cordial guest, who has quickly endeared himself to Ranjen Telna and the Prylars in the station temple.
Personal Log, supplemental: On a more personal note, I'm concerned with the recent behaviour of Major Kira. Since the death of Vedek Bareil, I was expecting her to request some form of temporary leave to deal with the grief of having lost someone close to her, but she has remained on duty. I cannot order her to take leave, and can only hope that her frequent visits to the station's temple are offering her the solace she needs.
~~~
Kira tried to will her hand not to shake as she lit the candle. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take deep, steady breaths as she shook out the match and dropped it into the brazier before letting her hands drop to her knees where she knelt on the mat. Her breathing grew more and more ragged as her hands clenched in her lap, nails digging into her palms, knuckles turning white until finally she broke into wracking sobs, tears streaming as she gasped for breath, trying to stay as silent as possible.
"I've tried everything I can think of," she whispered to the altar in front of her, "and I'm out of ideas. So unless you want to actually speak up for once..." She cut off abruptly at the sound of someone pushing aside the bead curtain that separated the room from the rest of the temple.
"Oh," she head a soft voice say mildly, "I'm sorry, I thought this room would be empty." Unlike nearly every other voice she'd heard recently, it was devoid of pity, merely courteous, and yet still warm and kind.
In spite of herself, Kira turned to face the source of the voice, and found herself quickly averting her eyes elsewhere. It was Stark, and just like the last time she'd been faced with him, during the meeting in Sisko's office where he'd been introduced to the senior staff, she found herself desperately trying to not to stare at the right side of his face. It looked as if he'd been badly burned once, and the scars were just fading. He couldn't open his right eye, but it looked like he might be able to, in time. If the painful past that scar hinted at bothered him, he didn't show it; nonetheless it made Kira - whose scars were all internal - uncomfortable. She finally settled on concentrating on his left eye, though the clear calm blue gaze reminded her sharply of Bareil.
She swallowed and forced a weak smile. "It's all right," she said, rising unsteadily to her feet, "I can go."
Something troubled crossed Stark's features and he shook his head gently, still smiling sadly. "No Major, I think you need this room more than I do," he said softly.
Kira gave a short barking laugh. "You're probably right," she said. She sank back down onto her knees again, tilting her head up to the ceiling.
"I just..." she started, then sighed and closed her eyes, causing the tears that had welled up to spill down her cheeks. Stark waited for her to continue, not moving a muscle, almost as if in fear of shattering the stillness in the small room.
Finally, she spoke. "I can't talk to Kai Winn, because I can't stand the thought of listening to any more of that garbage about how he's in a better place now and he's a credit to Bajor and how I should be proud and everything she always says that's really just her trying to make herself feel better when she could have stopped it, prevented it. I can't talk to Commander Sisko because, hell, he's Commander Sisko and he'd just try to set me up with some Starfleet councillor, on top of trying to force me to take leave when working is the only thing filling my days, keeping me from throwing myself off the promenade. I can't talk to Odo because even though we're close he just can't understand this kind of thing; he doesn't have the same kind of feelings we do and for some reason I could never figure out he always seemed to not like Bareil. And I can't talk to Dax because she'll just tell me some story from some life of hers that's supposed to make me feel better because she's been through the same thing except it won't, because I'm not a Trill and I can't just wait for the next life to dull the pain a little. And hell, for all I know Baniks have some special way to deal with grief but I don't know, I don't know you; you're not my friend and you're not my commanding officer and you're not my religious leader and you don't even know me but maybe, just maybe that means I can talk to you the way I can't talk to anybody else, if you'll just listen." She swallowed and took a deep breath before looking Stark in the eye again. "Will you?"
Stark's expression was unreadable, but something flickered briefly in his eye. Without saying a word, and with the barest of nods, he sank effortlessly into a cross-legged position on the floor opposite her. He tilted his head slightly and smiled at Kira, gesturing for her to continue.
Kira chuckled slightly and smiled raggedly. "You really do remind me of Kai Opaka."
Stark tilted his head again. "Who's that?"
"A very, very kind woman who was the glue that held Bajor together during some very tough times. She left us because she felt she was more needed elsewhere, but sometimes I feel we need her guidance now more than ever, even though I respect her decision." Kira shrugged. "And sometimes I just miss her because she was kind and good, and my friend."
Stark swallowed and closed his eye, and Kira was mildly shocked to see a single tear well up in it. She was about to apologize when Stark opened his eye again. "I think..." he murmured, and smiled brightly at her, "I think I will take that as a very great compliment."
Kira retuned his smile. "It was meant as one," she said softly, and wiped her eyes.
Stark sat, unhurried, waiting for her to continue. She stared at the floor for a few minutes before beginning abruptly "The problem is, I've been telling myself all kinds of things, all the things I should be telling myself, and a few I probably shouldn't, and none of them seems to help. I tell myself he's in a better place, and it doesn't stop me wishing he was still here instead. I tell myself he did a noble thing, and it was a sacrifice for the greater good, and it doesn't stop me from wondering why the hell the greater good was more important to him than me. I tell myself I was lucky, lucky to have been there when he slipped away, and been able to talk to him in his last moments, and it doesn't stop me from wishing I'd fled the room and hidden in a corner so I wouldn't have the memory of this broken thing that replaced the man I loved. I tell myself he'd want me to be happy, and it doesn't stop me from thinking that if he'd really wanted that he would have gotten the hell out in time, stopped the negotiations. I mean, I know he was as good as dead already, but there was a chance, the smallest chance that he could have gotten better if he hadn't pushed it..." Kira shook her head. "And I hate myself, hate myself, so much, for thinking all these things, and I tell myself he'd be ashamed of me, and..."
"And you hate yourself" Stark said quietly, his voice soft and carefully measured, "for hating yourself. Because it's the last thing he'd have wanted. And you hate yourself even more for hating him a little."
Kira stared at Stark. "You..." she started angrily, but all the venom in her voice melted when she saw his mask of even calm was gone, replaced by simple quiet grief. "You've been here," she whispered, and Stark nodded. Kira's hand flew to her mouth, and she closed her eyes and started to sob. Stark stretched out a hand and laid it on the hand she still had in her lap and she took it, squeezing it tightly.
"How?" she finally cried out, "How did you get so calm? You couldn't have felt like this, hurt like this and be the way you are!"
"I wasn't always as you see me, Major." He looked away, refusing to meet her questioning gaze. "I don't like to think about... the way I was before. Or why. I don't ever want to be that person again. It's why I've pushed the memory of the person I lost from my mind." He swallowed and focused on a spot on the floor just in front of him. "Until now," he whispered.
"So," Kira said, her voice cracked with pain, "Is that what you recommend? Forget him? Push him out of my mind?" She nodded with grim determination. "I can do that."
"No!" Stark burst out, his head jerking up. Kira started at the edge of panic in his voice. He closed his eye and composed his features. "No," he repeated more calmly. "I was wrong, Major. Pushing her from my mind is... was wrong. I realized that the moment your comment made me think of her." He smiled, his eye bright. "All I was doing was denying myself the comfort of the good and gentle memories."
Kira shook her head. "What in the name of the prophets were you so afraid of?" She laughed bitterly, and gestured vaguely at herself. "This? This kind of crying wreck I've made of myself?" She chuckled. "You don't seem the type for hysterics."
Stark didn't laugh or crack a smile. His face stayed deadly serious. "That just shows how little you know me. Be happy about that." He stood up abruptly. "I'm sorry, Major. Maybe I'm not who you should be talking to." He turned to leave.
"Wait!" Kira leaped to her feet and grabbed Stark's arm. "Don't you dare hint that you might be the only person on this station who actually knows how I'm feeling and then run away because it doesn't fit with the aura of inner peace you've built for yourself!" She looked into Stark's eye, pleading. "Tell me. Please."
Stark shook his head gently, not breaking eye contact.. "You don't understand what you're asking, Major," he said softly.
Kira held his gaze unflinchingly. "Then make me understand, Stark."
Stark didn't seem to move, or give any outward sign, but his eye was a riot of conflicting emotion. "Fine," he finally said, without particular inflection. He sat down again and motioned for Kira to follow suit. She did, sitting opposite him and he motioned for her to scoot closer until their knees were touching. He tentatively reached out towards her, and for a second Kira thought he would grasp her ear to sense her Pagh, but he stopped short, his hand hovering above her cheek. "I warn you, Major... Nerys?" he said questioningly, asking permission, and she granted it by nodding. "I warn you, Nerys," he continued, "I am going to show you something very... disturbing. But I think it's the only way for you to understand."
Kira straightened her spine and forced her nervousness from showing. "What?" she asked, keeping her voice politely inquisitive.
"Me," Stark answered simply, and his hand began to glow.
Kira blinked against the glare, and gasped as the golden light spilled across her check, bringing warmth with it. She nearly choked in shock when she realized where she'd felt this sensation before - when she'd looked into an Orb of the Prophets. Then the golden light enveloped them both and she found herself in a vision.
Pushing from her mind the question of what exactly this made Stark, she took in her surroundings, trying to commit the vision to memory.
She was in a dark room, on a spaceship of some kind - the walls had the feel of deck plating, and there was a low hum that suggested engines. A painfully thin and ragged figure was curled in the foetal position on the floor in front of her, gibbering in a low voice and rocking. She stretched out her hand to the figure, and it screamed and backed up against the wall, lifting its head to face her. She pulled back in a shock of recognition.
It was Stark, but the scar on the Stark she knew was replaced by a crude metal mask without an eyehole, and the rest of his face was almost unrecognizably twisted into an expression of fury. He was shaking and manic and gibbering, waving his arms madly in front of him as if to ward her off. "No no no, you're a trick, a trick! No one comes to me here, I'm not real, not real! I'm dead, don't you understand? Zhaan dead, John dead, Aeryn dead, inside, where it matters, Crais dead, Talyn dead, me dead!" He blinked and stared off towards the ceiling. "Rygel's alive," he said softly, "But he doesn't care, so he might as well be dead."
This is my memory of myself, the calmer voice of the Stark she'd met sounded in her head. I wouldn't get any closer if I were you.
"How did you get this way?" Kira whispered, not able to tare her sight away from the broken Stark, who had begun to quietly sob.
Slavery. Rape. Torture. Death. Grief. I'd rather not share all of that. I've accepted that it happened, but you don't really need to see it, do you?
Kira shook her head. "How did you... how did you survive?"
You tell me. From where I'm standing there doesn't seem to be all that much difference between Cardassians and Scarrans.
"How do you know that?" Kira asked.
That's not really important. You've seen what you came to see, so perhaps you should go now, all right?
Kira reached out to the figure on the floor. "I can't just... leave him..."
He's just a memory, Nerys. An unhappy one. Disturbing him could stir up things I know you don't want to see.
"To hell with that, Stark, I've come this far." She quickly reached out to the screaming Stark and folded him into her arms.
"No!" Stark screamed, and she couldn't tell if it was the one in her arms or the one in her head or both. The world went black.
Hatred. Pure, boiling hatred. Pain and suffering and grief and rage. It was everywhere, all around her, and she almost had no sense of herself anymore. I recognize this place, she thought, and heard her thoughts echo out in the black, This is what I felt for the Cardassians. This is where I lived during the occupation.
Images began to flash before her eyes, faster and faster until they seemed to bleed together, caught up in a spin. Bajoran villages assaulted with deadly gas, her family falling to the ground, screaming in pain as the Cardassians in their black and red uniforms stormed through, torturing and killing and enslaving. Winn, looking pained and explaining to Bariel that he must wait for the treatment to make him better; these wormholes are so important. Her father, dying on the other end of the ship before she could get to him, his voice calling for her. Dukat's smirking face as he adjusted the dials on the chair, and the memories grew thicker and more painful...
Yes, a voice hissed, and it seemed to be Stark again, but another Stark, a darker Stark. Yes! They're evil, they deserve our hate! Your Cardassians, my Scarrans! Your Cardies, my Peacekeepers! Your spoon-heads, my Scorpy! Your Winn, my John! Your hate, my hate! Your side, my side!
She felt herself choking, part of her wanting to join the voice in its shrieking reverie, run out and find the ones who hurt them and make them pay, make them hurt and hurt and bleed and die...
Golden light spilled into the darkness, and she felt warmth envelop her again. Come out of there, Nerys. It's a bad place to be.
She reached for the light with all her strength, but felt herself stuck. "Help!" she cried, and felt the light wrap itself around her and pull...
She came to her senses, shaking and gasping with tears running down her face, sitting on the floor of the temple with Stark holding her tight, stroking her hair as if she were a small child having a nightmare. "Sorry," he was chanting softly, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..."
"What the hell was that?" she gasped, holding on to Stark for dear life as she started to shake.
"Me. Or rather, my dark side. The evil in me." He gave her a reassuring squeeze, and then loosed his hold on her to look her in the face, his features creased with concern. Kira couldn't meet his gaze and turned away, looking at the floor. "I did warn you..." he said sadly.
Kira nodded, giving a weak laugh. "I suppose you did." She shook her head in amazement. "But you just..." she swallowed and made a motion with her hands. "pushed it away, like it was nothing..."
Stark shook his head. "I couldn't always. I used to live there, fighting it all the time. But a very wise man... helped me. Showed me that I had what I needed all along and helped me get it back." Stark smiled. "You have that strength too. I saw it."
Kira shook her head, tears threatening to break again. "I don't."
"You do," Stark insisted, gripping her shoulders. "You wouldn't be here now if you didn't. Think, Kira, do you truly believe that being Cardassian is a good enough reason for someone to die?"
Kira swallowed as a memory struck her, almost strongly enough for her to be rocked back physically. A Cardassian, one she had come to - yes, by the Prophets - respect, lying on the promenade bleeding out life as his killer spat out "He's a Cardassian. Isn't that reason enough?"
"No," Kira sobbed, then and now, "It's not."
Stark nodded, smiling. "You have the strength, Nerys. The strength to change. The strength to rage back against the voice inside that tells you you should hate yourself for thinking and wanting things to be different. Bareil loved that strength, and would be proud, and you know it."
He closed his eye, and a tear slid down his cheek. "I know you know it because I've finally realized my Zhaan is proud of me. I can think of my Zhaan without going into that black place, and you helped me."
Kira wiped at the tears drying on her cheeks and nodded. She looked into Stark's face again, and gave a small gasp. The scars on the right side of his face had faded even further, and his right eye had opened, revealing a solid golden orb that was glowing softly. She frankly stared at him. "How..?" she gaped.
Stark, lifted a hand to his face and ran his fingers wonderingly over his face. His lips parted briefly in surprize, and then he smiled knowingly. "Yes..." he murmured, and at Kira's questioning look, he smiled wider and explained "Corporeal shell. What's outside reflects what's inside. I was healing. Now I'm healed." He embraced her suddenly and she let him, too startled to protest. "Thanks to you," he whispered, "And Zhaan."
Kira determined she wasn't going to get more of an explanation than that, and decided she didn't need one. She was happy for him, anyway. She squeezed, returning his hug before detangling herself gently.
"I really wish I could have known 'your Zhaan'" she said, smiling at Stark, "she sounds like a beautiful person."
Stark closed his eyes and nodded, and expression of pure joy on his face. "She was." He blinked, struck by a sudden thought, and grew a mischievous grin. "Would you like to see her?"
Kira blinked, then smiled in comprehension. "I'd like that very much. I'd be honoured."
Stark nodded and stretched out his palm in front of her face again. This time the glow spread from his new right eye until the warmth enveloped them both.
She saw a woman, tall and graceful and blue from head to toe, garbed in flowing robes of the same colour. Delicate speckles, similar to Trill colouring, crowned her bald head and the sides of her sculpted face. Her eyes were deep pools of blue on blue, and held both great wisdom and great pain that an overwhelming strength had overcome. She suddenly understood Stark's earlier reaction to her description of Kai Opaka for that was where she'd remembered seeing that look before. "Goddess bless you, Nerys" she said, and her voice was warm and joyous. Her lips quirked in a smile that was so reminiscent of Bareil that Kira had to blink away the tears.
"Thank you," she whispered, and even she wasn't sure who she was thanking, Zhaan or Stark or the Prophets or even Bareil, or maybe all of them, for bringing her to this point.
Kira opened her eyes and released the breath she'd taken when Stark stretched his hand to her. The light from his right eye faded until it was just a solid ball in his socket. He dropped his hand into his lap. He quirked his head and flashed that mischievous grin again. "Your turn," he said.
Kira just blinked at him for a second, then threw back her head and laughed. "Bareil!" she said and Stark nodded, still grinning. Kira nodded, then frowned. "But I can't..." and she gestured at her face, "I mean..." she shook her head, confused. "Can't you take his image from me?"
Stark shook his head. "I can share my memories, but taking them from others..." He shook his head and gestured with his hands, linking his fingers. "It requires a more..." and he blushed slightly, "intimate connection. Or for you to be dying," he added thoughtfully, then smiled. "But you're not dying, Nerys. You're very much alive."
"Much more so than I have been, lately." Kira said softly, returning his smile.
Stark nodded. "Just tell me about him. It will be enough. I did catch a glimpse from your mind." Stark suddenly looked concerned. "If, of course, you will honour me..."
Kira quickly put her hand on Stark's to reassure him. "It is the least I can do, Stark. The honour's mine." She settled back in her sitting position and cleared her throat, searching her memory for where to start. Suddenly she gave a small laugh, nodded to herself, and began "I met Bareil when he came to the Station to clear up some trouble Winn was making between her followers and Starfleet." Kira chuckled. "The way he looked at me when he took my hand, it was like he knew all along we would be together..."
Ranjen Telna paused at the doorway to the alcove. Hearing the soft voices and muffled laughter within, he decided he could meditate in preparation for his sermon at the other shrine in the temple today. He briefly thanked the prophets for bringing them the stranger Stark, then turned around and left.
~~~
Station Log, Stardate 48512.3: Stark has informed me that he is ready to leave. He claims he has found a way to contact this Crichton of his, though he was vague on the details. His appearance has radically altered, including the healing of scars he'd recently attained before arriving, and Dr Bashir is at as much of a loss to explain this development as anything else about our mysterious guest's physiology. Stark, as I've come to expect, only said that it was "the will of The Goddess". I myself harbour strong suspicion that The Goddess and The Prophets are acquainted with each other.
Kira Nerys' Personal Log, Supplemental: I've decided that although I'm pretty sure Stark has a profound connection to the Prophets, I'm not going to share details of my experience with anyone. To be blunt, I don't trust Kai Winn not to try and keep him here, maybe even try to take him apart to see how the "living Orb" works - and Stark's had more than enough of that for one lifetime. Prophets help that Scorpius of his if I ever meet the bastard. In any case I've decided to take that leave Sisko and Odo keep nagging me about, but not before pulling out my dress uniform greys for one important function...
The senior staff had assembled at the airlock that led to Stark's transport pod. Dax was missing; she'd had Stark's blessing to instead take readings from ops on the strange new configuration of the wormhole. It had shaped itself into a narrow funnel, wildly twisting, very different from its usual appearance of an immense shallow bowl. O'Brian was assisting her, privately glad of the excuse: the Banik unnerved him.
Sisko bowed. "It was an honour having you here on the Station, Stykera," he said, using what he understood to be Stark's formal title.
Stark returned the bow, pressing both hands together in front of him. "Thank you for your kind hospitality, Commander. Commander Crichton will be pleased to hear what a good impression his species made to a stranger."
Dr Bashir stepped forward and held out his hand to Stark. "I'm very sorry I won't have time to complete those readings, Stark."
Stark eagerly accepted the Doctor's handshake. "So am I, Julian. I enjoyed working with you. But some mysteries the Goddess meant to leave unsolved, I suppose." He moved down the line to stand in front of Constable Odo
"Stykera," Odo said gruffly with a curt nod.
Stark returned it nervously. "Constable. I apologize for the disruption of your routine."
Odo merely nodded again, but his manner was somewhat mollified.
Finally he came to Kira. Solemnly, she mimicked the gesture Stark had made at Sisko, then with a mischievous grin completed the full formal version by bowing her head into her hands, parting them and bringing them up over her head. "Goddess bless you, Stark." she said.
Stark grinned delightedly, and held one hand in front of him, palm up. "Prophets keep you, Kira Nerys," with a twinkle in his left eye that seemed to say I'd grab your ear, but we both know Bareil hated that custom.
Kira smiled and nodded to show she understood, and Stark turned to leave. The senior staff dispersed as the airlock closed, but Kira stayed, waiting until she could watch the tiny ship disappear into the swirling blue.
~~~
This is a very good canidate for DVD commentary, if I ever do another batch of those.
Title: Blessings
Author: LadySmith
Recipient: megthelegend
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Star Trek: Deep Space 9/Farscape
Summary: Grieving the loss of a loved one is hardly unique to one's own universe. Sometimes it's easier to talk to a total stranger about the most private of pains. Kira&Stark Gen.
Notes: Takes place between "Life Support" and "Heart of Stone" for DS9, and after "Peacekeeper Wars" for Farscape. Major spoilers up to those points for both.
Disclaimer: Farscape and the characters and settings therein are the property of the Henson Company, Star Trek: DS9 and the characters and settings therein are the property of Paramount; both are used here entirely without permission but entirely with respect. This is for love, not for money.
Acknowledgements: This fic could not have been completed without Memory Alpha and the script archive at Star Trek Minutiae. Thanks go out to astrogirl2 for the speedy and succinct beta, for tightening up more than a few sloppy phrases, and for catching a huge error that would have made me look like an idiot. Much love.
Dedication: For Nana and Paul, of course, and above all for Meg, as I never would have dreamed of putting these two in a room if not for her modest request.
~~~
Blessings
Station Log, Stardate 48507.9: An unscheduled arrival through the wormhole has brought us a mysterious guest from a species otherwise unknown to us. He calls himself Stark, and after a thorough examination, Dr Bashir has confirmed that the visitor's species - apparently called Banik - are completely unknown to us, and possessed of unique and puzzling physiology. Perhaps most strangely of all, Stark came to us speaking perfect 20th century-era English, which he claimed to have learned from a human named John Crichton. We can find no records of this Crichton however, and his descriptions of his home region of space conform in no way at all to what we've managed to map of the Gamma quadrant. Lt Dax believes him to be from an alternate timeline, and Stark agrees with her, after a fashion. He calls our space-timeline an "Unrealized Reality" and claims that this Crichton - apparently an expert on wormholes - will be able to lead him home if he can somehow contact him. He is however, at a complete loss for how to accomplish this. Despite his mysterious origins and nature, Stark has proven to be a peaceful and cordial guest, who has quickly endeared himself to Ranjen Telna and the Prylars in the station temple.
Personal Log, supplemental: On a more personal note, I'm concerned with the recent behaviour of Major Kira. Since the death of Vedek Bareil, I was expecting her to request some form of temporary leave to deal with the grief of having lost someone close to her, but she has remained on duty. I cannot order her to take leave, and can only hope that her frequent visits to the station's temple are offering her the solace she needs.
~~~
Kira tried to will her hand not to shake as she lit the candle. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take deep, steady breaths as she shook out the match and dropped it into the brazier before letting her hands drop to her knees where she knelt on the mat. Her breathing grew more and more ragged as her hands clenched in her lap, nails digging into her palms, knuckles turning white until finally she broke into wracking sobs, tears streaming as she gasped for breath, trying to stay as silent as possible.
"I've tried everything I can think of," she whispered to the altar in front of her, "and I'm out of ideas. So unless you want to actually speak up for once..." She cut off abruptly at the sound of someone pushing aside the bead curtain that separated the room from the rest of the temple.
"Oh," she head a soft voice say mildly, "I'm sorry, I thought this room would be empty." Unlike nearly every other voice she'd heard recently, it was devoid of pity, merely courteous, and yet still warm and kind.
In spite of herself, Kira turned to face the source of the voice, and found herself quickly averting her eyes elsewhere. It was Stark, and just like the last time she'd been faced with him, during the meeting in Sisko's office where he'd been introduced to the senior staff, she found herself desperately trying to not to stare at the right side of his face. It looked as if he'd been badly burned once, and the scars were just fading. He couldn't open his right eye, but it looked like he might be able to, in time. If the painful past that scar hinted at bothered him, he didn't show it; nonetheless it made Kira - whose scars were all internal - uncomfortable. She finally settled on concentrating on his left eye, though the clear calm blue gaze reminded her sharply of Bareil.
She swallowed and forced a weak smile. "It's all right," she said, rising unsteadily to her feet, "I can go."
Something troubled crossed Stark's features and he shook his head gently, still smiling sadly. "No Major, I think you need this room more than I do," he said softly.
Kira gave a short barking laugh. "You're probably right," she said. She sank back down onto her knees again, tilting her head up to the ceiling.
"I just..." she started, then sighed and closed her eyes, causing the tears that had welled up to spill down her cheeks. Stark waited for her to continue, not moving a muscle, almost as if in fear of shattering the stillness in the small room.
Finally, she spoke. "I can't talk to Kai Winn, because I can't stand the thought of listening to any more of that garbage about how he's in a better place now and he's a credit to Bajor and how I should be proud and everything she always says that's really just her trying to make herself feel better when she could have stopped it, prevented it. I can't talk to Commander Sisko because, hell, he's Commander Sisko and he'd just try to set me up with some Starfleet councillor, on top of trying to force me to take leave when working is the only thing filling my days, keeping me from throwing myself off the promenade. I can't talk to Odo because even though we're close he just can't understand this kind of thing; he doesn't have the same kind of feelings we do and for some reason I could never figure out he always seemed to not like Bareil. And I can't talk to Dax because she'll just tell me some story from some life of hers that's supposed to make me feel better because she's been through the same thing except it won't, because I'm not a Trill and I can't just wait for the next life to dull the pain a little. And hell, for all I know Baniks have some special way to deal with grief but I don't know, I don't know you; you're not my friend and you're not my commanding officer and you're not my religious leader and you don't even know me but maybe, just maybe that means I can talk to you the way I can't talk to anybody else, if you'll just listen." She swallowed and took a deep breath before looking Stark in the eye again. "Will you?"
Stark's expression was unreadable, but something flickered briefly in his eye. Without saying a word, and with the barest of nods, he sank effortlessly into a cross-legged position on the floor opposite her. He tilted his head slightly and smiled at Kira, gesturing for her to continue.
Kira chuckled slightly and smiled raggedly. "You really do remind me of Kai Opaka."
Stark tilted his head again. "Who's that?"
"A very, very kind woman who was the glue that held Bajor together during some very tough times. She left us because she felt she was more needed elsewhere, but sometimes I feel we need her guidance now more than ever, even though I respect her decision." Kira shrugged. "And sometimes I just miss her because she was kind and good, and my friend."
Stark swallowed and closed his eye, and Kira was mildly shocked to see a single tear well up in it. She was about to apologize when Stark opened his eye again. "I think..." he murmured, and smiled brightly at her, "I think I will take that as a very great compliment."
Kira retuned his smile. "It was meant as one," she said softly, and wiped her eyes.
Stark sat, unhurried, waiting for her to continue. She stared at the floor for a few minutes before beginning abruptly "The problem is, I've been telling myself all kinds of things, all the things I should be telling myself, and a few I probably shouldn't, and none of them seems to help. I tell myself he's in a better place, and it doesn't stop me wishing he was still here instead. I tell myself he did a noble thing, and it was a sacrifice for the greater good, and it doesn't stop me from wondering why the hell the greater good was more important to him than me. I tell myself I was lucky, lucky to have been there when he slipped away, and been able to talk to him in his last moments, and it doesn't stop me from wishing I'd fled the room and hidden in a corner so I wouldn't have the memory of this broken thing that replaced the man I loved. I tell myself he'd want me to be happy, and it doesn't stop me from thinking that if he'd really wanted that he would have gotten the hell out in time, stopped the negotiations. I mean, I know he was as good as dead already, but there was a chance, the smallest chance that he could have gotten better if he hadn't pushed it..." Kira shook her head. "And I hate myself, hate myself, so much, for thinking all these things, and I tell myself he'd be ashamed of me, and..."
"And you hate yourself" Stark said quietly, his voice soft and carefully measured, "for hating yourself. Because it's the last thing he'd have wanted. And you hate yourself even more for hating him a little."
Kira stared at Stark. "You..." she started angrily, but all the venom in her voice melted when she saw his mask of even calm was gone, replaced by simple quiet grief. "You've been here," she whispered, and Stark nodded. Kira's hand flew to her mouth, and she closed her eyes and started to sob. Stark stretched out a hand and laid it on the hand she still had in her lap and she took it, squeezing it tightly.
"How?" she finally cried out, "How did you get so calm? You couldn't have felt like this, hurt like this and be the way you are!"
"I wasn't always as you see me, Major." He looked away, refusing to meet her questioning gaze. "I don't like to think about... the way I was before. Or why. I don't ever want to be that person again. It's why I've pushed the memory of the person I lost from my mind." He swallowed and focused on a spot on the floor just in front of him. "Until now," he whispered.
"So," Kira said, her voice cracked with pain, "Is that what you recommend? Forget him? Push him out of my mind?" She nodded with grim determination. "I can do that."
"No!" Stark burst out, his head jerking up. Kira started at the edge of panic in his voice. He closed his eye and composed his features. "No," he repeated more calmly. "I was wrong, Major. Pushing her from my mind is... was wrong. I realized that the moment your comment made me think of her." He smiled, his eye bright. "All I was doing was denying myself the comfort of the good and gentle memories."
Kira shook her head. "What in the name of the prophets were you so afraid of?" She laughed bitterly, and gestured vaguely at herself. "This? This kind of crying wreck I've made of myself?" She chuckled. "You don't seem the type for hysterics."
Stark didn't laugh or crack a smile. His face stayed deadly serious. "That just shows how little you know me. Be happy about that." He stood up abruptly. "I'm sorry, Major. Maybe I'm not who you should be talking to." He turned to leave.
"Wait!" Kira leaped to her feet and grabbed Stark's arm. "Don't you dare hint that you might be the only person on this station who actually knows how I'm feeling and then run away because it doesn't fit with the aura of inner peace you've built for yourself!" She looked into Stark's eye, pleading. "Tell me. Please."
Stark shook his head gently, not breaking eye contact.. "You don't understand what you're asking, Major," he said softly.
Kira held his gaze unflinchingly. "Then make me understand, Stark."
Stark didn't seem to move, or give any outward sign, but his eye was a riot of conflicting emotion. "Fine," he finally said, without particular inflection. He sat down again and motioned for Kira to follow suit. She did, sitting opposite him and he motioned for her to scoot closer until their knees were touching. He tentatively reached out towards her, and for a second Kira thought he would grasp her ear to sense her Pagh, but he stopped short, his hand hovering above her cheek. "I warn you, Major... Nerys?" he said questioningly, asking permission, and she granted it by nodding. "I warn you, Nerys," he continued, "I am going to show you something very... disturbing. But I think it's the only way for you to understand."
Kira straightened her spine and forced her nervousness from showing. "What?" she asked, keeping her voice politely inquisitive.
"Me," Stark answered simply, and his hand began to glow.
Kira blinked against the glare, and gasped as the golden light spilled across her check, bringing warmth with it. She nearly choked in shock when she realized where she'd felt this sensation before - when she'd looked into an Orb of the Prophets. Then the golden light enveloped them both and she found herself in a vision.
Pushing from her mind the question of what exactly this made Stark, she took in her surroundings, trying to commit the vision to memory.
She was in a dark room, on a spaceship of some kind - the walls had the feel of deck plating, and there was a low hum that suggested engines. A painfully thin and ragged figure was curled in the foetal position on the floor in front of her, gibbering in a low voice and rocking. She stretched out her hand to the figure, and it screamed and backed up against the wall, lifting its head to face her. She pulled back in a shock of recognition.
It was Stark, but the scar on the Stark she knew was replaced by a crude metal mask without an eyehole, and the rest of his face was almost unrecognizably twisted into an expression of fury. He was shaking and manic and gibbering, waving his arms madly in front of him as if to ward her off. "No no no, you're a trick, a trick! No one comes to me here, I'm not real, not real! I'm dead, don't you understand? Zhaan dead, John dead, Aeryn dead, inside, where it matters, Crais dead, Talyn dead, me dead!" He blinked and stared off towards the ceiling. "Rygel's alive," he said softly, "But he doesn't care, so he might as well be dead."
This is my memory of myself, the calmer voice of the Stark she'd met sounded in her head. I wouldn't get any closer if I were you.
"How did you get this way?" Kira whispered, not able to tare her sight away from the broken Stark, who had begun to quietly sob.
Slavery. Rape. Torture. Death. Grief. I'd rather not share all of that. I've accepted that it happened, but you don't really need to see it, do you?
Kira shook her head. "How did you... how did you survive?"
You tell me. From where I'm standing there doesn't seem to be all that much difference between Cardassians and Scarrans.
"How do you know that?" Kira asked.
That's not really important. You've seen what you came to see, so perhaps you should go now, all right?
Kira reached out to the figure on the floor. "I can't just... leave him..."
He's just a memory, Nerys. An unhappy one. Disturbing him could stir up things I know you don't want to see.
"To hell with that, Stark, I've come this far." She quickly reached out to the screaming Stark and folded him into her arms.
"No!" Stark screamed, and she couldn't tell if it was the one in her arms or the one in her head or both. The world went black.
Hatred. Pure, boiling hatred. Pain and suffering and grief and rage. It was everywhere, all around her, and she almost had no sense of herself anymore. I recognize this place, she thought, and heard her thoughts echo out in the black, This is what I felt for the Cardassians. This is where I lived during the occupation.
Images began to flash before her eyes, faster and faster until they seemed to bleed together, caught up in a spin. Bajoran villages assaulted with deadly gas, her family falling to the ground, screaming in pain as the Cardassians in their black and red uniforms stormed through, torturing and killing and enslaving. Winn, looking pained and explaining to Bariel that he must wait for the treatment to make him better; these wormholes are so important. Her father, dying on the other end of the ship before she could get to him, his voice calling for her. Dukat's smirking face as he adjusted the dials on the chair, and the memories grew thicker and more painful...
Yes, a voice hissed, and it seemed to be Stark again, but another Stark, a darker Stark. Yes! They're evil, they deserve our hate! Your Cardassians, my Scarrans! Your Cardies, my Peacekeepers! Your spoon-heads, my Scorpy! Your Winn, my John! Your hate, my hate! Your side, my side!
She felt herself choking, part of her wanting to join the voice in its shrieking reverie, run out and find the ones who hurt them and make them pay, make them hurt and hurt and bleed and die...
Golden light spilled into the darkness, and she felt warmth envelop her again. Come out of there, Nerys. It's a bad place to be.
She reached for the light with all her strength, but felt herself stuck. "Help!" she cried, and felt the light wrap itself around her and pull...
She came to her senses, shaking and gasping with tears running down her face, sitting on the floor of the temple with Stark holding her tight, stroking her hair as if she were a small child having a nightmare. "Sorry," he was chanting softly, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..."
"What the hell was that?" she gasped, holding on to Stark for dear life as she started to shake.
"Me. Or rather, my dark side. The evil in me." He gave her a reassuring squeeze, and then loosed his hold on her to look her in the face, his features creased with concern. Kira couldn't meet his gaze and turned away, looking at the floor. "I did warn you..." he said sadly.
Kira nodded, giving a weak laugh. "I suppose you did." She shook her head in amazement. "But you just..." she swallowed and made a motion with her hands. "pushed it away, like it was nothing..."
Stark shook his head. "I couldn't always. I used to live there, fighting it all the time. But a very wise man... helped me. Showed me that I had what I needed all along and helped me get it back." Stark smiled. "You have that strength too. I saw it."
Kira shook her head, tears threatening to break again. "I don't."
"You do," Stark insisted, gripping her shoulders. "You wouldn't be here now if you didn't. Think, Kira, do you truly believe that being Cardassian is a good enough reason for someone to die?"
Kira swallowed as a memory struck her, almost strongly enough for her to be rocked back physically. A Cardassian, one she had come to - yes, by the Prophets - respect, lying on the promenade bleeding out life as his killer spat out "He's a Cardassian. Isn't that reason enough?"
"No," Kira sobbed, then and now, "It's not."
Stark nodded, smiling. "You have the strength, Nerys. The strength to change. The strength to rage back against the voice inside that tells you you should hate yourself for thinking and wanting things to be different. Bareil loved that strength, and would be proud, and you know it."
He closed his eye, and a tear slid down his cheek. "I know you know it because I've finally realized my Zhaan is proud of me. I can think of my Zhaan without going into that black place, and you helped me."
Kira wiped at the tears drying on her cheeks and nodded. She looked into Stark's face again, and gave a small gasp. The scars on the right side of his face had faded even further, and his right eye had opened, revealing a solid golden orb that was glowing softly. She frankly stared at him. "How..?" she gaped.
Stark, lifted a hand to his face and ran his fingers wonderingly over his face. His lips parted briefly in surprize, and then he smiled knowingly. "Yes..." he murmured, and at Kira's questioning look, he smiled wider and explained "Corporeal shell. What's outside reflects what's inside. I was healing. Now I'm healed." He embraced her suddenly and she let him, too startled to protest. "Thanks to you," he whispered, "And Zhaan."
Kira determined she wasn't going to get more of an explanation than that, and decided she didn't need one. She was happy for him, anyway. She squeezed, returning his hug before detangling herself gently.
"I really wish I could have known 'your Zhaan'" she said, smiling at Stark, "she sounds like a beautiful person."
Stark closed his eyes and nodded, and expression of pure joy on his face. "She was." He blinked, struck by a sudden thought, and grew a mischievous grin. "Would you like to see her?"
Kira blinked, then smiled in comprehension. "I'd like that very much. I'd be honoured."
Stark nodded and stretched out his palm in front of her face again. This time the glow spread from his new right eye until the warmth enveloped them both.
She saw a woman, tall and graceful and blue from head to toe, garbed in flowing robes of the same colour. Delicate speckles, similar to Trill colouring, crowned her bald head and the sides of her sculpted face. Her eyes were deep pools of blue on blue, and held both great wisdom and great pain that an overwhelming strength had overcome. She suddenly understood Stark's earlier reaction to her description of Kai Opaka for that was where she'd remembered seeing that look before. "Goddess bless you, Nerys" she said, and her voice was warm and joyous. Her lips quirked in a smile that was so reminiscent of Bareil that Kira had to blink away the tears.
"Thank you," she whispered, and even she wasn't sure who she was thanking, Zhaan or Stark or the Prophets or even Bareil, or maybe all of them, for bringing her to this point.
Kira opened her eyes and released the breath she'd taken when Stark stretched his hand to her. The light from his right eye faded until it was just a solid ball in his socket. He dropped his hand into his lap. He quirked his head and flashed that mischievous grin again. "Your turn," he said.
Kira just blinked at him for a second, then threw back her head and laughed. "Bareil!" she said and Stark nodded, still grinning. Kira nodded, then frowned. "But I can't..." and she gestured at her face, "I mean..." she shook her head, confused. "Can't you take his image from me?"
Stark shook his head. "I can share my memories, but taking them from others..." He shook his head and gestured with his hands, linking his fingers. "It requires a more..." and he blushed slightly, "intimate connection. Or for you to be dying," he added thoughtfully, then smiled. "But you're not dying, Nerys. You're very much alive."
"Much more so than I have been, lately." Kira said softly, returning his smile.
Stark nodded. "Just tell me about him. It will be enough. I did catch a glimpse from your mind." Stark suddenly looked concerned. "If, of course, you will honour me..."
Kira quickly put her hand on Stark's to reassure him. "It is the least I can do, Stark. The honour's mine." She settled back in her sitting position and cleared her throat, searching her memory for where to start. Suddenly she gave a small laugh, nodded to herself, and began "I met Bareil when he came to the Station to clear up some trouble Winn was making between her followers and Starfleet." Kira chuckled. "The way he looked at me when he took my hand, it was like he knew all along we would be together..."
Ranjen Telna paused at the doorway to the alcove. Hearing the soft voices and muffled laughter within, he decided he could meditate in preparation for his sermon at the other shrine in the temple today. He briefly thanked the prophets for bringing them the stranger Stark, then turned around and left.
~~~
Station Log, Stardate 48512.3: Stark has informed me that he is ready to leave. He claims he has found a way to contact this Crichton of his, though he was vague on the details. His appearance has radically altered, including the healing of scars he'd recently attained before arriving, and Dr Bashir is at as much of a loss to explain this development as anything else about our mysterious guest's physiology. Stark, as I've come to expect, only said that it was "the will of The Goddess". I myself harbour strong suspicion that The Goddess and The Prophets are acquainted with each other.
Kira Nerys' Personal Log, Supplemental: I've decided that although I'm pretty sure Stark has a profound connection to the Prophets, I'm not going to share details of my experience with anyone. To be blunt, I don't trust Kai Winn not to try and keep him here, maybe even try to take him apart to see how the "living Orb" works - and Stark's had more than enough of that for one lifetime. Prophets help that Scorpius of his if I ever meet the bastard. In any case I've decided to take that leave Sisko and Odo keep nagging me about, but not before pulling out my dress uniform greys for one important function...
The senior staff had assembled at the airlock that led to Stark's transport pod. Dax was missing; she'd had Stark's blessing to instead take readings from ops on the strange new configuration of the wormhole. It had shaped itself into a narrow funnel, wildly twisting, very different from its usual appearance of an immense shallow bowl. O'Brian was assisting her, privately glad of the excuse: the Banik unnerved him.
Sisko bowed. "It was an honour having you here on the Station, Stykera," he said, using what he understood to be Stark's formal title.
Stark returned the bow, pressing both hands together in front of him. "Thank you for your kind hospitality, Commander. Commander Crichton will be pleased to hear what a good impression his species made to a stranger."
Dr Bashir stepped forward and held out his hand to Stark. "I'm very sorry I won't have time to complete those readings, Stark."
Stark eagerly accepted the Doctor's handshake. "So am I, Julian. I enjoyed working with you. But some mysteries the Goddess meant to leave unsolved, I suppose." He moved down the line to stand in front of Constable Odo
"Stykera," Odo said gruffly with a curt nod.
Stark returned it nervously. "Constable. I apologize for the disruption of your routine."
Odo merely nodded again, but his manner was somewhat mollified.
Finally he came to Kira. Solemnly, she mimicked the gesture Stark had made at Sisko, then with a mischievous grin completed the full formal version by bowing her head into her hands, parting them and bringing them up over her head. "Goddess bless you, Stark." she said.
Stark grinned delightedly, and held one hand in front of him, palm up. "Prophets keep you, Kira Nerys," with a twinkle in his left eye that seemed to say I'd grab your ear, but we both know Bareil hated that custom.
Kira smiled and nodded to show she understood, and Stark turned to leave. The senior staff dispersed as the airlock closed, but Kira stayed, waiting until she could watch the tiny ship disappear into the swirling blue.
~~~
This is a very good canidate for DVD commentary, if I ever do another batch of those.