ZEX's Vacation 2010
Title: The End, or, Inevitable
Rating: PG-13
Summary: ZEX says goodbye. Or, more specifically, he does everything but actually say it out loud.
Before he opened his eye, he reached out with his senses, trying to judge what had just happened. He felt as though there were a weight attached to his pupil, the string tugging back through his mind, pulling his head down to the bottom of his tank. Not exactly fatigue--some sort of unique travel restlessness, he was certain. It had been some time since he had jumped into hyper or quasispace, and he had never knowingly jumped dimensions in this way... perhaps this is simply what it was like.
Odd, he thought. And then, he opened his eye, and all of the plans for the day arrived at the front of his consciousness, fully formed.
His birthwater fell from his skin in perfect droplets, and he barely tracked any to the floor as he jumped out, exhilarated. His room was, of course, just as he had left it--one look at the electronic calendar told him that he hadn’t missed anything--his entire stay at Camp had been two hours at most, here. He turned his gaze to just next to his suddenly unimpressive collection of images of humans to the intercom, and hopped to it instantly.
“DAX,” he said, feeling like a human child on Christmas morning. He attempted to keep it out of his voice, knowing that it would only cause confusion-more confusion than was inevitable, anyway. “DAX, respond.”
He left the intercom switch turned as he pondered over his wardrobe, knowing that DAX would take a few moments to return to consciousness--ZEX had left him reading... one and a half years ago. ZEX remembered perfectly--a history, dry and boring and very DAX. Such a small detail to stay with him all this time... But, no matter. Sure enough, DAX’s monotone soon filled the room.
“Sir.”
ZEX nearly laughed aloud. “DAX! Hello!”
The silence on the other end of the line was piercing. “Hello, Sir. Was that all?”
“Oh, DAX, it is good to hear your voice...!”
“...Wh--”
“And before you ask why that is, there are many things to do today. Take note.”
ZEX heard the familiar beep of the intercom portable recorder. “Yes, Sir.”
“We are moving. I require my Menagerie, my Arsenal, and my Greenhouse to be completely exported. I do not want there to be a single carousel beast on this planet by day's end. Next, all crew members must gather their personal affects-as much as will fit in the Fleet-and leave, hovering about the planet. Am I correct in thinking that the human Captain will be arriving later today?”
DAX swallowed audibly. ZEX could picture him now, blinking at every bizarre request, gaze darting to the door as he considered demanding an explanation in person. “That is correct, Sir,” he finally managed, “but I must--”
“You needn't,” ZEX corrected, before going on. “After the crew is collected off-planet, I would have you map my Captain's most likely trajectory, send the Shofixti Maidens up in an escape pod with remote control, and then-and this is important, DAX-you must hide behind Alpha Cerenkov.”
ZEX gave DAX a few moments to process, considering the two outfits he had selected and draped over his desk. On the one end, it would be quite gallant to die in uniform, and no doubt he would cut an impressive figure, decked out in all of his medals as he fought the Beast. On the other, purple was his very favorite color.
DAX cleared his throat on the other end of the line, and ZEX turned back to the intercom. There was no videolink to his room-both DAX and ZEX had agreed that would be for the best, considering that ZEX's human paraphernalia (or “shrine,” as some were wont to call it) would be in a camera's direct line of sight, and humans do still make some crew members nauseous.
“Sir,” he said.
ZEX smiled fondly. That poor man. “Yes, DAX.”
“...I have known you for a very long time,” he said.
“You have indeed! Long enough that we should probably start lying about just how long, yes? It might make us sound old.”
“You are old, Sir.--That is irrelevant.”
ZEX giggled, playing with the sash on his purple uniform. He hoped that it still fit-Camp had done horrible things to his workout regimen. “One is as old as one feels, DAX. But yes, let us not linger. You have a question, it seems.”
A pause. “Not... a question, no.”
“No?”
“No.” DAX expelled a puff of breath, and quickly cut it off-a half-sigh. “I have known you for twenty years. I have followed you, and listened. My experience with you never convinced me of your insanity-it convinced me otherwise.”
ZEX's head tentacles twirled in a grin. “'Until now,' is it?”
DAX released the other half of his earlier sigh. “No. But if you are wearing the purple outfit when I come to your quarters in ten minutes, then I shall question you.”
He terminated the conversation before ZEX could whine at him.
-
“And this is the Mess! Ah, do excuse the relative pandemonium, I assure you it isn't usually like this--”
“Sir.”
“Ah, and here is DAX!” ZEX sauntered over to him, angling the remote so that the small, spherical camcorder floated over to his left, catching DAX's look of flat disbelief. “DAX is my Subcommander. Say hello, DAX!”
DAX gave the bobbing sphere a level glance, and then returned to staring at his Admiral. “Is this an order, Sir?”
ZEX sighed theatrically, bringing his arm to his eye in a gesture of dismay. “Would it have to be?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He turned the lens back to himself. “DAX can be a bit stubborn at times. I find it charmingly irritating.”
The Mess was an explosion of activity around them. Men and women were loading gigantic cages full of ZEX's most prized flora and fauna onto large hoverdollies, using this large room as a midpoint between the recreational areas and the loading bay. The room itself, a massive square with a low ceiling and a deep pool of water in its center, was barely big enough to fit all of the cargo and people in it at once.
DAX, momentarily distracted by an Ensign's dithering about something, fixed his gaze on ZEX once again. ZEX looked around the room, humming approvingly.
“Admiral ZEX,” DAX said. It had the distinct undertone of a human mother calling out her child's full name.
“Subcommander DAX,” ZEX replied, almost giggling again. He was so concerned!
“...Everything is on schedule. It will be tight, but I believe we can be off-planet and eclipsed by twenty-two hundred hours.” He glanced at the large, water-tight crate full of fish native to Gamma Serpentis I. Second Lieutenant FUP seemed afraid to touch it, but under DAX's glare, finally managed to place it on the dolly. “The Flagship is outfitted with as much cargo as it can carry, and we await your arrival on the bridge.”
ZEX flicked his tongue in thought. “Already? Goodness, you are efficient. What have you been telling the crew?”
“Few have asked,” DAX deflected weakly. “Those that did haven't deserved the truth.”
“DAX,” ZEX chided. “You know how I feel about lies.”
DAX, for a moment, looked honestly baffled. Then, realization dawning on his face, he turned back to the camera. “'Admiral ZEX does not abide by dishonesty.'” He glanced over his shoulder.
“Keep going,” ZEX encouraged. “I want the audience captivated.--YIK!”
Officer YIK, floating by with a sentient orchid, looked to her right, searching for who had called her name. ZEX, to her immediate left, tapped her on the shoulder. She clicked her tongue in surprise, turning to face him with her large, deep green eye as unfocused as ever.
“Sir,” she murmured, her soft voice barely carrying over the din. “Sir, it has been a very long time!”
“It has been barely six hours, YIK,” DAX corrected, interrupting his own stilted speech listing ZEX's various positive qualities.
“Yes, Sir,” YIK agreed, her head tentacles drifting in some strange mental breeze, “but it hasn't felt that way. Has it, Admiral?”
“YIK,” ZEX said, squeezing her shoulder. Fondness swelled in his chest. “YIK, for once, we are in total agreement. I do not think this has happened since you told me purple suited me.”
DAX managed to say nothing very loudly-a talent of his. His disagreement was palpable. YIK shuddered, and turned her watery eye to focus somewhere just beyond the top of DAX's head.
“You're always so tense, Sir,” she said, voice full of sighs. “Purple would be good for you, as well. It opens your skin to the water of the universe.”
DAX brought his tongue to hover in front of him, tasting the air. YIK blinked, looked down at the sentient orchid in her arms as if it had suddenly appeared there, and then wandered away to bless someone else with her presence.
“I like her,” ZEX said, watching her dance around the madly rushing crew.
DAX turned back to the camera and gave it a poignant look of long-suffering.
-
DAX arrived outside the door to ZEX's quarters one minute before he was scheduled to be there. This proved to be rather disastrous, as ZEX was still in the process of hiding things around the room. When the door slid open, ZEX was still on his knees under his desk, pinning a bit of his writing to the back of it. ZEX had jumped at DAX's entrance, and managed to hit himself on the head rather painfully.
DAX crouched down in front of the desk, looking ZEX in the eye with calculated blankness. “Sir.”
ZEX sighed. “That was stupid.”
“So you say, Sir.” He looked at the letter still in ZEX's grip, saying nothing. ZEX sighed-it had been a good letter, but was useless to him now. He would have to go without notes. He tossed the letter upward, atop a messy stack of paperwork he would never complete.
Feeling defeated as well as foolish, ZEX crawled out from underneath his desk and moved to sit on his chair, waving DAX into the free chair to his side. DAX, per their own little traditions, remained standing.
The silence hung between them, and for the first time in a long time, it was uncomfortable. ZEX closed his eye, picturing DAX standing beside him in any number of offices, bridges, and court rooms. Their spines had lost some of their color from those days, their uniforms had changed, but they... DAX had remained the same. ZEX was the one who had changed, and at that moment, he was very sorry for it.
DAX did not ask what was going on. He had never needed to, in their past. The Admiral had a plan, and it was not his place to ask after the desired end point. DAX was exiled, but he was still a soldier. ZEX's soldier, ZEX realized.
ZEX was not looking forward to this conversation. He entertained the thought of simply not having it, but that was before he opened his eye to actually look at DAX again.
“DAX,” he breathed.
DAX shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the sheer level of... affection, ZEX supposed, in the room. “Sir,” he said.
Curt. Short. Not the way it used to be-the way it had been only hours before, in this universe.
“I owe you an explanation,” ZEX said, reaching for DAX's arm. DAX did not give it, and so ZEX's gesture fell between them like a shattered glass. ZEX recoiled slowly. “I... admit that I do not know where to begin.”
DAX blinked, and remained silent.
ZEX let out a sigh that he had intended to be a laugh. “Say something.”
“Sir,” he responded immediately. After a few tense moments, he continued. “The beginning.”
“It is a long, extremely bizarre story,” ZEX muttered, fiddling with one of the medals on his chest-the twin of one of DAX's own. “I do not think it would be best to start at the very beginning, frankly. But, DAX,” he said, finally searching for DAX's gaze. “May I tell you how I want this conversation to end?”
DAX shrugged one shoulder a fraction of a degree. “It would suit the occasion. Doing things backward.”
ZEX did laugh, then. “So that is how you see the day thus far... Unfortunately, I do not think my... proposal... will help you with your confusion, but I do plan to explain things backward as well, so perhaps that will flow better, yes?”
DAX looked at the camcorder, black and lifeless on ZEX's desk, before looking at ZEX again. 'Just get on with it,' DAX didn't say. ZEX agreed wholeheartedly, and so took a deep breath before continuing.
“By the end of my explanation, I would like to be mating with you.”
ZEX had to admit, DAX took this news very well. He was only struck dumb for a matter of moments before collapsing onto the spare chair. His back was rigidly straight, his head tentacles extended to their full radius, giving him the look of a surprised starfish. His tongue hung out of his proboscis in dead shock before he pulled it back in, clearing his throat. ZEX thought it rather adorable, actually, which he chalked up entirely to his year-and-a-half-long period of total abstinence.
“Would you care to start me off with a question or two?” ZEX offered. “It may help me explain things clearly.”
The world was clearly still spinning backward for ZEX's friend. “What,” DAX managed, voice hoarse.
ZEX looked over DAX's incredibly awkward-but muscular, ZEX noted clinically-body. “Well, do not sell yourself short, my friend.”
“That,” DAX hissed, “is not at all what I mean.”
“...You are angry?” ZEX guessed, genuinely surprised. “Why?”
DAX swallowed something harsh-most likely cruel words, though he did look like he could vomit with rage, so there was that possibility. “I am angry, Sir, that you are keeping things from the crew. You are making decisions without counsel. You are ordering a mass exodus of this planet for when your human arrives, and you have not placed your personal affects aboard your ship. I am angry,” he punctuated with a click of the tongue, “that you are doing this because your human is coming here.”
ZEX sat up in his seat. “My--what?”
“There are several possible reasons, and they all involve the human Captain.” DAX spoke with the level tone he had only ever used in combat before. “You wish to renege on your deal somehow, that is certain. Perhaps you simply want us all forming a perimeter around Alpha Cerenkov so that your human cannot escape, or you wish to distract Beta Luyten-which is the only populated planet that would be able to see the Fleet where you have placed us, I discovered-from your activities. All of this work, this secrecy, for--”
“DAX,” ZEX said, voice light, close even to laughter. “DAX, it grieves me to hear that the first long speech you have ever willingly given is so very wrong.”
“I do not see how it could be.” He stated. Then, as an afterthought: “Sir.”
“This--none of this-has had to do with my desires regarding Captain Zelnick.” DAX all but rolled his eye and left the room at that, but ZEX pushed his laughter down, attempting to look as sincere as he was being. “I am serious! Truly, I wish to remove you from this planet before his arrival, but that is more to do with our deal going through successfully than anything else. You... I assume you recall what I asked for, in exchange for the Shofixti Maidens.”
“The Beast,” DAX answered. “Alternatively, the Captain.”
ZEX huffed. “Oh, I didn't say that--”
“Sir.”
“...Right,” ZEX said, deflating. “Right that-isn't important, at the moment. What is important is that I have received information stating in no uncertain terms that the Beast will kill us all if we remain on planet. The human Captain cannot hold it on the Precursor vessel, and it would survive open space. There is...” ZEX watched for DAX's reaction. “There is no alternative.”
DAX was a logical, rational man. He always had been-it had been chilling to see in him when he was young. Nothing seemed to touch him, and when he touched others, it would be out of necessary violence more often than not. He was a child of War, and bred to be so.
ZEX hadn't expected to be able to see him break, so completely. It was not so much a physical change in expression as a sudden feeling of all of the air being sucked out of the room, sound dulled to silence in the void. ZEX wanted to reach out again, to touch DAX after more than a year without that small luxury, but he did not move.
DAX swallowed, and ZEX watched his brain connect the day's events with this new conclusion. After a long moment, DAX finally murmured, “I will not leave you.”
“You will,” ZEX said, firm on this, at least. “There is no reason for you to go with me. I have thought about it to all of its logical ends, and if the crew simply hides from the Beast-perhaps trapping it on the other side of the planet-you will need to maintain silence against the rest of the universe until the end of the War, which the humans will contact you about--”
“ZEX,” DAX said, without titles, for the first time in his life. “No.”
The VUX Admiral stared at DAX, feeling his hearts thumping with adrenaline and, perhaps, fear. “Subcommander, this is an order.”
DAX's face soured, and his words burst from his throat with venom. “Under what authority?”
The air returned to the room in a nigh-audible pop, and ZEX remained breathless. The words hit him like a blow to the gut, and he saw instantaneous regret in DAX's eye, and there was a brief silence.
“...Sir,” he managed, head tentacles weaving and curling with sadness, “Sir, I didn't-that isn't what I-Sir--”
“I understand, DAX,” ZEX said, voice close to wavering. “It is true, after all.”
“It isn't,” DAX insisted, certain. His voice was a mess, his throat constricted, as if he were trying to force his body to just stop talking. “You are still-to whoever matters, you are still Admiral. We follow you. I-it is--”
ZEX sat forward, reaching his arm out to hold the tip of DAX's. DAX stared at it for a long moment, swallowing his stilted words and going silent once more. Tentatively, as though ZEX might burn him, he lowered his own tentacle atop ZEX's. And for a moment, that is all that there was.
“Why?” DAX asked, looking to the floor.
“Because,” ZEX answered, “it is the way things are meant to be. I do not trust myself not to help the Captain, should it come to that. I am taking enough risks as it is hiding you from the timeline. I... DAX,” he said, voice low, “I am not certain you realize how fond I am of you.”
VUX do not blush, but ZEX could see the equivalent spread across DAX's expression, head tentacles swirling. He had never seen DAX do that, before. It felt precious. “So you say, Sir.”
“I do not say such things lightly,” ZEX continued, squeezing DAX's arm. “Not... not to you.”
They both saw the conversation that could then unfold. They both knew what the other was feeling-DAX, something he had repressed for years, and ZEX, honest regret at being unable to reciprocate it. They came to a simultaneous, tacit agreement that words could wait another too-short hour. ZEX moved his arm up DAX's own, and DAX's other arm was on his knee, and things became simple, for a while. Not for long enough, but such things never were, or could be, truly satisfying.
-
There is nothing lonelier, ZEX decided, than an empty prison. The camcorder hovered in front of him, its tiny blue eye fixed on him. He scanned empty space, waiting for his Captain to arrive with the last gift ZEX would ever receive.
“I did not like this place,” ZEX told the camcorder. “This place, with its high walls and drab paint-it is no great loss. Soon, I will be with...” He paused, swallowing. “Soon, I will be home.
“But you see now, don't you? How I could live here. How I could enjoy living here. My friends... have my utmost respect, for doing all that they have done. I owe them everything-without them, I am absolutely certain I would have been killed long ago. And now, I wait for the inevitable repercussion to a stupid decision I made both one week, and one year ago.”
He looked around his empty command center. He saw YIK, and PIK, and FOV, and DAX, all where they usually were. Where they had been, mere hours ago. When he looked again, things were as he had ordered them to be: empty.
ZEX looked up at his camcorder. “I will probably edit this bit out, really. It is monstrously depressing. But I do like hearing myself talk, you know this, and if anything... DAX. If you find this before Taiki does, I want you to know--”
The human Captain hailed him. ZEX turned back to the screen, and laughed.
“I want you to know that you are an excellent lover. Goodbye, my friend. Be well.”
Rating: PG-13
Summary: ZEX says goodbye. Or, more specifically, he does everything but actually say it out loud.
Before he opened his eye, he reached out with his senses, trying to judge what had just happened. He felt as though there were a weight attached to his pupil, the string tugging back through his mind, pulling his head down to the bottom of his tank. Not exactly fatigue--some sort of unique travel restlessness, he was certain. It had been some time since he had jumped into hyper or quasispace, and he had never knowingly jumped dimensions in this way... perhaps this is simply what it was like.
Odd, he thought. And then, he opened his eye, and all of the plans for the day arrived at the front of his consciousness, fully formed.
His birthwater fell from his skin in perfect droplets, and he barely tracked any to the floor as he jumped out, exhilarated. His room was, of course, just as he had left it--one look at the electronic calendar told him that he hadn’t missed anything--his entire stay at Camp had been two hours at most, here. He turned his gaze to just next to his suddenly unimpressive collection of images of humans to the intercom, and hopped to it instantly.
“DAX,” he said, feeling like a human child on Christmas morning. He attempted to keep it out of his voice, knowing that it would only cause confusion-more confusion than was inevitable, anyway. “DAX, respond.”
He left the intercom switch turned as he pondered over his wardrobe, knowing that DAX would take a few moments to return to consciousness--ZEX had left him reading... one and a half years ago. ZEX remembered perfectly--a history, dry and boring and very DAX. Such a small detail to stay with him all this time... But, no matter. Sure enough, DAX’s monotone soon filled the room.
“Sir.”
ZEX nearly laughed aloud. “DAX! Hello!”
The silence on the other end of the line was piercing. “Hello, Sir. Was that all?”
“Oh, DAX, it is good to hear your voice...!”
“...Wh--”
“And before you ask why that is, there are many things to do today. Take note.”
ZEX heard the familiar beep of the intercom portable recorder. “Yes, Sir.”
“We are moving. I require my Menagerie, my Arsenal, and my Greenhouse to be completely exported. I do not want there to be a single carousel beast on this planet by day's end. Next, all crew members must gather their personal affects-as much as will fit in the Fleet-and leave, hovering about the planet. Am I correct in thinking that the human Captain will be arriving later today?”
DAX swallowed audibly. ZEX could picture him now, blinking at every bizarre request, gaze darting to the door as he considered demanding an explanation in person. “That is correct, Sir,” he finally managed, “but I must--”
“You needn't,” ZEX corrected, before going on. “After the crew is collected off-planet, I would have you map my Captain's most likely trajectory, send the Shofixti Maidens up in an escape pod with remote control, and then-and this is important, DAX-you must hide behind Alpha Cerenkov.”
ZEX gave DAX a few moments to process, considering the two outfits he had selected and draped over his desk. On the one end, it would be quite gallant to die in uniform, and no doubt he would cut an impressive figure, decked out in all of his medals as he fought the Beast. On the other, purple was his very favorite color.
DAX cleared his throat on the other end of the line, and ZEX turned back to the intercom. There was no videolink to his room-both DAX and ZEX had agreed that would be for the best, considering that ZEX's human paraphernalia (or “shrine,” as some were wont to call it) would be in a camera's direct line of sight, and humans do still make some crew members nauseous.
“Sir,” he said.
ZEX smiled fondly. That poor man. “Yes, DAX.”
“...I have known you for a very long time,” he said.
“You have indeed! Long enough that we should probably start lying about just how long, yes? It might make us sound old.”
“You are old, Sir.--That is irrelevant.”
ZEX giggled, playing with the sash on his purple uniform. He hoped that it still fit-Camp had done horrible things to his workout regimen. “One is as old as one feels, DAX. But yes, let us not linger. You have a question, it seems.”
A pause. “Not... a question, no.”
“No?”
“No.” DAX expelled a puff of breath, and quickly cut it off-a half-sigh. “I have known you for twenty years. I have followed you, and listened. My experience with you never convinced me of your insanity-it convinced me otherwise.”
ZEX's head tentacles twirled in a grin. “'Until now,' is it?”
DAX released the other half of his earlier sigh. “No. But if you are wearing the purple outfit when I come to your quarters in ten minutes, then I shall question you.”
He terminated the conversation before ZEX could whine at him.
-
“And this is the Mess! Ah, do excuse the relative pandemonium, I assure you it isn't usually like this--”
“Sir.”
“Ah, and here is DAX!” ZEX sauntered over to him, angling the remote so that the small, spherical camcorder floated over to his left, catching DAX's look of flat disbelief. “DAX is my Subcommander. Say hello, DAX!”
DAX gave the bobbing sphere a level glance, and then returned to staring at his Admiral. “Is this an order, Sir?”
ZEX sighed theatrically, bringing his arm to his eye in a gesture of dismay. “Would it have to be?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He turned the lens back to himself. “DAX can be a bit stubborn at times. I find it charmingly irritating.”
The Mess was an explosion of activity around them. Men and women were loading gigantic cages full of ZEX's most prized flora and fauna onto large hoverdollies, using this large room as a midpoint between the recreational areas and the loading bay. The room itself, a massive square with a low ceiling and a deep pool of water in its center, was barely big enough to fit all of the cargo and people in it at once.
DAX, momentarily distracted by an Ensign's dithering about something, fixed his gaze on ZEX once again. ZEX looked around the room, humming approvingly.
“Admiral ZEX,” DAX said. It had the distinct undertone of a human mother calling out her child's full name.
“Subcommander DAX,” ZEX replied, almost giggling again. He was so concerned!
“...Everything is on schedule. It will be tight, but I believe we can be off-planet and eclipsed by twenty-two hundred hours.” He glanced at the large, water-tight crate full of fish native to Gamma Serpentis I. Second Lieutenant FUP seemed afraid to touch it, but under DAX's glare, finally managed to place it on the dolly. “The Flagship is outfitted with as much cargo as it can carry, and we await your arrival on the bridge.”
ZEX flicked his tongue in thought. “Already? Goodness, you are efficient. What have you been telling the crew?”
“Few have asked,” DAX deflected weakly. “Those that did haven't deserved the truth.”
“DAX,” ZEX chided. “You know how I feel about lies.”
DAX, for a moment, looked honestly baffled. Then, realization dawning on his face, he turned back to the camera. “'Admiral ZEX does not abide by dishonesty.'” He glanced over his shoulder.
“Keep going,” ZEX encouraged. “I want the audience captivated.--YIK!”
Officer YIK, floating by with a sentient orchid, looked to her right, searching for who had called her name. ZEX, to her immediate left, tapped her on the shoulder. She clicked her tongue in surprise, turning to face him with her large, deep green eye as unfocused as ever.
“Sir,” she murmured, her soft voice barely carrying over the din. “Sir, it has been a very long time!”
“It has been barely six hours, YIK,” DAX corrected, interrupting his own stilted speech listing ZEX's various positive qualities.
“Yes, Sir,” YIK agreed, her head tentacles drifting in some strange mental breeze, “but it hasn't felt that way. Has it, Admiral?”
“YIK,” ZEX said, squeezing her shoulder. Fondness swelled in his chest. “YIK, for once, we are in total agreement. I do not think this has happened since you told me purple suited me.”
DAX managed to say nothing very loudly-a talent of his. His disagreement was palpable. YIK shuddered, and turned her watery eye to focus somewhere just beyond the top of DAX's head.
“You're always so tense, Sir,” she said, voice full of sighs. “Purple would be good for you, as well. It opens your skin to the water of the universe.”
DAX brought his tongue to hover in front of him, tasting the air. YIK blinked, looked down at the sentient orchid in her arms as if it had suddenly appeared there, and then wandered away to bless someone else with her presence.
“I like her,” ZEX said, watching her dance around the madly rushing crew.
DAX turned back to the camera and gave it a poignant look of long-suffering.
-
DAX arrived outside the door to ZEX's quarters one minute before he was scheduled to be there. This proved to be rather disastrous, as ZEX was still in the process of hiding things around the room. When the door slid open, ZEX was still on his knees under his desk, pinning a bit of his writing to the back of it. ZEX had jumped at DAX's entrance, and managed to hit himself on the head rather painfully.
DAX crouched down in front of the desk, looking ZEX in the eye with calculated blankness. “Sir.”
ZEX sighed. “That was stupid.”
“So you say, Sir.” He looked at the letter still in ZEX's grip, saying nothing. ZEX sighed-it had been a good letter, but was useless to him now. He would have to go without notes. He tossed the letter upward, atop a messy stack of paperwork he would never complete.
Feeling defeated as well as foolish, ZEX crawled out from underneath his desk and moved to sit on his chair, waving DAX into the free chair to his side. DAX, per their own little traditions, remained standing.
The silence hung between them, and for the first time in a long time, it was uncomfortable. ZEX closed his eye, picturing DAX standing beside him in any number of offices, bridges, and court rooms. Their spines had lost some of their color from those days, their uniforms had changed, but they... DAX had remained the same. ZEX was the one who had changed, and at that moment, he was very sorry for it.
DAX did not ask what was going on. He had never needed to, in their past. The Admiral had a plan, and it was not his place to ask after the desired end point. DAX was exiled, but he was still a soldier. ZEX's soldier, ZEX realized.
ZEX was not looking forward to this conversation. He entertained the thought of simply not having it, but that was before he opened his eye to actually look at DAX again.
“DAX,” he breathed.
DAX shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the sheer level of... affection, ZEX supposed, in the room. “Sir,” he said.
Curt. Short. Not the way it used to be-the way it had been only hours before, in this universe.
“I owe you an explanation,” ZEX said, reaching for DAX's arm. DAX did not give it, and so ZEX's gesture fell between them like a shattered glass. ZEX recoiled slowly. “I... admit that I do not know where to begin.”
DAX blinked, and remained silent.
ZEX let out a sigh that he had intended to be a laugh. “Say something.”
“Sir,” he responded immediately. After a few tense moments, he continued. “The beginning.”
“It is a long, extremely bizarre story,” ZEX muttered, fiddling with one of the medals on his chest-the twin of one of DAX's own. “I do not think it would be best to start at the very beginning, frankly. But, DAX,” he said, finally searching for DAX's gaze. “May I tell you how I want this conversation to end?”
DAX shrugged one shoulder a fraction of a degree. “It would suit the occasion. Doing things backward.”
ZEX did laugh, then. “So that is how you see the day thus far... Unfortunately, I do not think my... proposal... will help you with your confusion, but I do plan to explain things backward as well, so perhaps that will flow better, yes?”
DAX looked at the camcorder, black and lifeless on ZEX's desk, before looking at ZEX again. 'Just get on with it,' DAX didn't say. ZEX agreed wholeheartedly, and so took a deep breath before continuing.
“By the end of my explanation, I would like to be mating with you.”
ZEX had to admit, DAX took this news very well. He was only struck dumb for a matter of moments before collapsing onto the spare chair. His back was rigidly straight, his head tentacles extended to their full radius, giving him the look of a surprised starfish. His tongue hung out of his proboscis in dead shock before he pulled it back in, clearing his throat. ZEX thought it rather adorable, actually, which he chalked up entirely to his year-and-a-half-long period of total abstinence.
“Would you care to start me off with a question or two?” ZEX offered. “It may help me explain things clearly.”
The world was clearly still spinning backward for ZEX's friend. “What,” DAX managed, voice hoarse.
ZEX looked over DAX's incredibly awkward-but muscular, ZEX noted clinically-body. “Well, do not sell yourself short, my friend.”
“That,” DAX hissed, “is not at all what I mean.”
“...You are angry?” ZEX guessed, genuinely surprised. “Why?”
DAX swallowed something harsh-most likely cruel words, though he did look like he could vomit with rage, so there was that possibility. “I am angry, Sir, that you are keeping things from the crew. You are making decisions without counsel. You are ordering a mass exodus of this planet for when your human arrives, and you have not placed your personal affects aboard your ship. I am angry,” he punctuated with a click of the tongue, “that you are doing this because your human is coming here.”
ZEX sat up in his seat. “My--what?”
“There are several possible reasons, and they all involve the human Captain.” DAX spoke with the level tone he had only ever used in combat before. “You wish to renege on your deal somehow, that is certain. Perhaps you simply want us all forming a perimeter around Alpha Cerenkov so that your human cannot escape, or you wish to distract Beta Luyten-which is the only populated planet that would be able to see the Fleet where you have placed us, I discovered-from your activities. All of this work, this secrecy, for--”
“DAX,” ZEX said, voice light, close even to laughter. “DAX, it grieves me to hear that the first long speech you have ever willingly given is so very wrong.”
“I do not see how it could be.” He stated. Then, as an afterthought: “Sir.”
“This--none of this-has had to do with my desires regarding Captain Zelnick.” DAX all but rolled his eye and left the room at that, but ZEX pushed his laughter down, attempting to look as sincere as he was being. “I am serious! Truly, I wish to remove you from this planet before his arrival, but that is more to do with our deal going through successfully than anything else. You... I assume you recall what I asked for, in exchange for the Shofixti Maidens.”
“The Beast,” DAX answered. “Alternatively, the Captain.”
ZEX huffed. “Oh, I didn't say that--”
“Sir.”
“...Right,” ZEX said, deflating. “Right that-isn't important, at the moment. What is important is that I have received information stating in no uncertain terms that the Beast will kill us all if we remain on planet. The human Captain cannot hold it on the Precursor vessel, and it would survive open space. There is...” ZEX watched for DAX's reaction. “There is no alternative.”
DAX was a logical, rational man. He always had been-it had been chilling to see in him when he was young. Nothing seemed to touch him, and when he touched others, it would be out of necessary violence more often than not. He was a child of War, and bred to be so.
ZEX hadn't expected to be able to see him break, so completely. It was not so much a physical change in expression as a sudden feeling of all of the air being sucked out of the room, sound dulled to silence in the void. ZEX wanted to reach out again, to touch DAX after more than a year without that small luxury, but he did not move.
DAX swallowed, and ZEX watched his brain connect the day's events with this new conclusion. After a long moment, DAX finally murmured, “I will not leave you.”
“You will,” ZEX said, firm on this, at least. “There is no reason for you to go with me. I have thought about it to all of its logical ends, and if the crew simply hides from the Beast-perhaps trapping it on the other side of the planet-you will need to maintain silence against the rest of the universe until the end of the War, which the humans will contact you about--”
“ZEX,” DAX said, without titles, for the first time in his life. “No.”
The VUX Admiral stared at DAX, feeling his hearts thumping with adrenaline and, perhaps, fear. “Subcommander, this is an order.”
DAX's face soured, and his words burst from his throat with venom. “Under what authority?”
The air returned to the room in a nigh-audible pop, and ZEX remained breathless. The words hit him like a blow to the gut, and he saw instantaneous regret in DAX's eye, and there was a brief silence.
“...Sir,” he managed, head tentacles weaving and curling with sadness, “Sir, I didn't-that isn't what I-Sir--”
“I understand, DAX,” ZEX said, voice close to wavering. “It is true, after all.”
“It isn't,” DAX insisted, certain. His voice was a mess, his throat constricted, as if he were trying to force his body to just stop talking. “You are still-to whoever matters, you are still Admiral. We follow you. I-it is--”
ZEX sat forward, reaching his arm out to hold the tip of DAX's. DAX stared at it for a long moment, swallowing his stilted words and going silent once more. Tentatively, as though ZEX might burn him, he lowered his own tentacle atop ZEX's. And for a moment, that is all that there was.
“Why?” DAX asked, looking to the floor.
“Because,” ZEX answered, “it is the way things are meant to be. I do not trust myself not to help the Captain, should it come to that. I am taking enough risks as it is hiding you from the timeline. I... DAX,” he said, voice low, “I am not certain you realize how fond I am of you.”
VUX do not blush, but ZEX could see the equivalent spread across DAX's expression, head tentacles swirling. He had never seen DAX do that, before. It felt precious. “So you say, Sir.”
“I do not say such things lightly,” ZEX continued, squeezing DAX's arm. “Not... not to you.”
They both saw the conversation that could then unfold. They both knew what the other was feeling-DAX, something he had repressed for years, and ZEX, honest regret at being unable to reciprocate it. They came to a simultaneous, tacit agreement that words could wait another too-short hour. ZEX moved his arm up DAX's own, and DAX's other arm was on his knee, and things became simple, for a while. Not for long enough, but such things never were, or could be, truly satisfying.
-
There is nothing lonelier, ZEX decided, than an empty prison. The camcorder hovered in front of him, its tiny blue eye fixed on him. He scanned empty space, waiting for his Captain to arrive with the last gift ZEX would ever receive.
“I did not like this place,” ZEX told the camcorder. “This place, with its high walls and drab paint-it is no great loss. Soon, I will be with...” He paused, swallowing. “Soon, I will be home.
“But you see now, don't you? How I could live here. How I could enjoy living here. My friends... have my utmost respect, for doing all that they have done. I owe them everything-without them, I am absolutely certain I would have been killed long ago. And now, I wait for the inevitable repercussion to a stupid decision I made both one week, and one year ago.”
He looked around his empty command center. He saw YIK, and PIK, and FOV, and DAX, all where they usually were. Where they had been, mere hours ago. When he looked again, things were as he had ordered them to be: empty.
ZEX looked up at his camcorder. “I will probably edit this bit out, really. It is monstrously depressing. But I do like hearing myself talk, you know this, and if anything... DAX. If you find this before Taiki does, I want you to know--”
The human Captain hailed him. ZEX turned back to the screen, and laughed.
“I want you to know that you are an excellent lover. Goodbye, my friend. Be well.”