Author's notes: This story was originally published by Orion Press. It was written a number of years ago, before much of what we now know about the characters had been revealed. Since nearly every aspect of the story has since been contradicted by show canon, this story must now fall under the Alternate Universe heading. So, if you're willing to overlook that fact, read on and enjoy. If not, well, your time might be better spent elsewhere.

THE LION'S DEN
by: sone
ysone@otelco.net

CHAPTER 1

Captain Benjamin Sisko absently studied each of his staff as they entered the room and took their seats around the long polished table. First to arrive was Major Kira Nerys, his Bajoran first officer. He found her confused look amusing. She was obviously trying to figure out why he had called this meeting. She had not been in OPS when the message from Starfleet had come in for him a short while ago.

He glanced at Jadzia Dax as she came through the door. The Trill smiled serenely in his direction and took a seat beside Kira. Dax knew of the message but not its content. His attention was drawn back to the door as it slid open once again to admit Constable Odo, Chief of Security, followed closely by Operations Chief Miles O'Brien and Doctor Julian Bashir.

Sisko cleared his throat as they took their seats. The officers turned expectant, curious eyes to their commander. "As some of you know, I received a priority one message from Starfleet a short while ago." He caught Kira's startled glance and bit back an amused smile. "It seems that our station has been chosen to host the final talks in the Isphesnian peace conference."

Sisko paused to let the comment sink in. The excited murmurs told him they completely understood the significance of the announcement. A quick glance at their faces confirmed it. Until he glimpsed Doctor Bashir. The young man was sitting quietly, not joining in the excited talk around him. Sisko's eyes narrowed. Had Bashir paled? It was difficult to tell in the dim light of the ward room.

Major Kira's was the first to speak. "Why here?"

"Admiral Kelley was not entirely clear on the reasons behind the decision. He did say this was the first location that both sides would agree upon."

"That's odd," Dax commented. "DS9 is a little far from Isphesnian space."

"Perhaps that is it's appeal," Odo offered.

"The constable is probably right," said Sisko. " We have the advantages of both distance and neutrality. That most likely had something to do with the decision. The Bajoran government has given their approval to the decision and has offered to help with security if needed."

"How long do we have to prepare?" Kira asked.

"The Federation mediator will arrive in three days, the advance teams will arrive the day after that to help with the security arrangements. The talks are scheduled to begin two days later."

"That doesn't give us much time," Odo said.

"No, it doesn't," Sisko agreed, "so we'll have to move quickly." He met the shapeshifter's gaze. "Security is to be a top priority. The Isphesnians have a violent history dating back to the beginning of their war some twenty years ago."

Dax brought up the information on a nearby computer monitor.

Sisko continued, knowing she would correct him if he strayed from the information on the screen. "About twenty years ago, the Federation and Isphesne were in the midst of vital negotiations when problems first began to emerge between Isphesne and her four colony worlds. Some of the outlying colonies were against the negotiations. There was an incident, a terrorist attack of some kind that broke down the talks and eventually led to war."

"That incident must have been something to have had such severe repercussions," said O'Brien.

Sisko turned a questioning look to Dax. As she searched for the information, his eyes strayed to Doctor Bashir. Yes, he was definitely pale. Did the young man know something about the attack? It was possible. After all, his father was a renowned diplomat who was bound to have mentioned such events at home.

Dax's surprised voice drew his attention. "It says very little here about the actual attack. Just that the Emperor's son was killed in the incident."

Sisko stood and walked around behind Dax, reading the information over her shoulder.

"Well," he said, straightening, "we'll just have to work around it." He walked back to his chair but did not sit. "Unless," he continued, carefully studying each face, "anyone has additional information?"

There was silence for a moment as they considered it.

Kira was the first to speak. "I probably know less about this than any of you, but I know it's been a bloody and devastating war even by Bajoran standards, and there have been no attempts to settle it since the initial talks twenty years ago."

"I remember some of the rumors that were circulating at the time," Dax added, "but they were only rumors. I do know that the Federation has attempted to mediate several times. Emperor Martan of Isphesne adamantly refused to discuss peace. He seemed determined to prolong the war."

"I wonder what changed his mind?" Odo asked.

"Martan died almost a year ago," Sisko informed them. "His daughter, Rava, ascended to the throne in his place. I would assume she is more inclined toward peace."

Julian's head jerked up, his eyes widening at the news. Sisko watched with growing interest. The information obviously meant something to the doctor; something that he didn't want to share.

"Security precautions would certainly be more complete if we had all pertinent information," Odo observed.

"Maybe their security people will fill us in when they get here," Kira said hopefully.

"No one has any more information?" Sisko asked. "Doctor Bashir?"

"Sir?" The young man glanced up sharply.

Sisko sat down and leaned back. "I thought perhaps, considering your father's diplomatic ties, you may have heard something."

"No, sir, nothing," he answered quickly, too quickly. He visibly gathered himself and continued in a controlled voice. "It was a long time ago. I was only a child. I wouldn't have paid attention to anything my father might have said."

Of course. Sometimes, Sisko forgot just how young the doctor was. He wouldn't have been more than ten or so when the attack happened. "We don't have much time so let's get busy. If you run into any problems bring them directly to Major Kira or myself. Dismissed."

Julian stepped onto the lift and breathed a sigh of relief when it began moving before anyone else entered. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. His heart was pounding so hard he couldn't think. Quickly, he ran through calming exercises to slow his pulse. After a short minute, he began breathing easier and his thinking cleared.

Damn! He was certain Captain Sisko had noticed his reaction to the announcement that the Isphesnians were coming here. Julian was surprised that the whole room hadn't noticed. He was sure his horror was written all over his face. But Sisko hadn't pressed for information, so maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought.

The lift doors slid open on the Promenade. Julian steeled his features and stepped into the bustling crowd. The Hermes was about to disembark, he realized absently. He made his way through the uniformed Starfleet personnel trying to finish last minute shopping and entered the infirmary. A quick glance around the area showed no activity, for which he was grateful. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts; at least, as alone as the station's only doctor could be while still on duty.

His eyes sought out and found Jabara, his Bajoran nurse. She was busy cleaning and replacing instruments in one of the examining areas. Julian frowned. There had been a problem, after all. Pushing aside his chaotic thoughts and donning what he hoped was a neutral expression, he crossed the room.

"Problem, Nurse?" he asked. He was surprised how devoid of emotion his voice sounded.

Jabara glanced up with a smile. "Morn was just in with a minor facial laceration." Her smile turned to an amused chuckle. "You would think he would have learned by now that you can't tell ethnic jokes to a Barlkian."

Julian ignored the attempt at humor. "You should have called me."

Jabara stepped back a bit at the sharp tone of the rebuke. "It was nothing I couldn't handle."

"It's not your place to decide what you can handle and what you can't. You're my nurse; you assist me." Julian stopped suddenly when he saw the wounded look in the Bajoran's eyes. He ran a hand over his face in irritation. "God, I'm sorry Jabara. I didn't mean that. It's just that I would have given anything to have been called away from that meeting. I didn't mean to snap."

Jabara smiled, forgiveness in her eyes, and placed a hand on his arm. "If you can't blow off steam with me, who can you? Was it bad news?"

Julian returned the smile and shook his head. "Nothing like that," he lied. "Just another long, boring techno-spill that had nothing to do with me or the infirmary. I don't know why the Captain insists that I attend those briefings."

He saw the disbelieving expression on the nurse's face and turned away before she could question him further. "I'll be in my office if anyone needs me," he called over his shoulder.

Jabara watched the young doctor stride quickly across the room and into his office. She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest as the door slid shut behind him. Julian was lying and it bothered her. She had never known him to lie before. He was as honest as he was handsome; and that was saying a lot, she admitted with a smile.

For one thing, the meeting hadn't been long; he had only been gone about half-an-hour. For another, Julian had long standing orders not to call him away from staff meetings for anything less than an emergency. He enjoyed the meetings, she knew, techno-babble and all. It was usually the only way he had to find out what was going on in OPS.

She frowned again as she turned back to her work, this time in frustration at the other officers. They often forgot about Julian down here in the Infirmary, cut off from the rest of the station, unless they needed him medically. He had never said anything but she knew it bothered him. They expected him to be fully prepared for anything but couldn't take time to bother with keeping him up-to-date on goings on in the rest of the station.

Jabara sighed as she replaced the last of the instruments she had used on Morn. Her maternal instincts had all but taken over where the young doctor was concerned. She couldn't help it, she rationalized. Julian needed mothering - she glanced toward his office where she could just make out his pained face as he leaned over his computer monitor - especially now.

CHAPTER 2

His breaths came faster as the large man moved closer. Oh, God! his mind screamed. Not another one! The man stopped before reaching where he sat, huddled in fear. His relief was replaced by terror when he realized the object of the man's attention. He screamed aloud as the man reached out a beefy hand and snatched up Jessie. The small girl matched his screams with heart-wrenching ones of her own.

"NO!" he cried, throwing himself at the man.

With a laugh that sent chills down his spine, the man backhanded him across the face with a force so strong that it knocked him back against the wall. He tasted blood. For a minute, he fought to remain conscious. Jessie's wails of terror gave him the will to open his eyes against the pain and dizziness.

The man was moving quickly away from the group of crying children, a firm grip on the kicking and screaming girl. With a desperation born of terror, he shook off someone's hands and launched himself after them. He moved so quickly that the guard could not stop him.

He grabbed at the man's jacket with a strength he didn't know he possessed, pulling him to a stop.

"Leave her alone! Leave her alone!" He began shouting obscenities at the man; words he had picked up on countless worlds, in countless schools, in countless languages. Some of the words he didn't even know the meaning of.

The man turned to look at him, listening stone-faced to the obscenities. After a minute, the man broke into laughter, joined by the other adults in the room. The laughter only served to make him angrier. Tears streamed down his face as he lashed out at the man, with words and with his fist.

Finally, the man quit laughing and shoved him to the floor, but he jumped right back up and continued the assault. Through the tears he didn't see the fist that hit him. It knocked him to the floor and he tried desperately to push himself up. He had to stop the man! He had to get up! But his body wouldn't obey. He continued to shout the obscenities through bloody lips. He heard the man order him to stop, but he continued, determined to fight in the only way left to him.

A sharp kick caught him in the ribs, causing him to scream in pain. The obscenities stopped as another blow caught him in the face and his mouth filled with blood. Darkness moved in determinedly. He fought in panic against it, knowing he was Jessie's only chance. He tried to scream but no sound came out. The last thing he heard as the darkness claimed him was Jessie's shrieks of terror. A sound he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Julian opened his eyes with a start, then quickly squeezed them shut again. Oh, God, not the nightmares again! He couldn't take that! But he had known they would come. He had known it the minute Sisko had mentioned the Isphesnian peace talks.

He threw off the sweat soaked covers and climbed from the bed to pace the room. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to sleep. He knew the nightmares would return, as they would for many nights to come.

A quick check of the time showed it to be only 0240, but he was awake for the night. Making a quick decision, he headed for the shower. Within ten minutes, he was dressed and headed for the racquetball court Chief O'Brien had built.

Two hours later, he sank to the floor of the court, panting. He was exhausted and sore, but he didn't want to stop. If he stopped, the thoughts and memories would return. He closed his eyes tightly. He thought he had buried the memories deep enough that he would never have to face them again. Years of therapy had, he thought, put the nightmares behind him. But it had all come rushing back in force with the captain's announcement.

The day started out just like the one before it, and the one before that, and the one before that. There was nothing to indicate the horror that was coming. School, such as it was, had only been in session for about an hour and the small class was working on mathematics. Julian loved math. Something about the numbers intrigued and challenged him. He loved the way puzzles that appeared impossible would suddenly click into place, forming beautifully crafted works of art. As a result of his love, he was working much faster than the rest of the class, even Proctor, and he was fifteen - well, almost; although Jessica was close to catching him. She was smarter than he was, Julian admitted ruefully, but she became preoccupied too easily. She didn't have the drive to succeed that he had.

Julian also loved his teacher. Pre. Saraem was the youngest teacher he had ever had, and there had been many. Being the son of Starfleet's most requested diplomat meant many schools, many friends, many teachers; all of which were soon left behind as he moved to another home. But Pre. Saraem was his favorite. She was patient and funny and beautiful. But most importantly, at least to Julian, she was understanding. She had almost immediately recognized his need to work at his own pace and not be held back with the rest of the class. She managed to find new challenges for him everyday. For the first time in his ten short years, Julian was happy with his school and dreaded the day when he would be forced to leave.

Of course, it wasn't really a proper school. Most of the time he was able to attend a regular school on whatever planet his father was working on. This school was a special one for the children of the royal house. The Isphesnian children in the class were offspring of important people that his dad worked with. His eyes searched out and found Rava and Proctor, the Emperor's children; Tason, the son of the first Prefect; Tirault and Dredall, the daughters of Pre. Knedge, who was somebody important but Julian couldn't remember what she did. There were five other kids in the class, all children of various Parliament members. He, Jessica, Angus, and Stefan were the only off-worlders in the class, all human and all children of ambassadors working on the negotiations.

The first that Julian knew anything was wrong was when Pre. Saraem fell forward across her desk, blood spurting from a fist sized crater in her chest. Some of the kids screamed, but not many; most sat in silent horror at their tables. Within seconds the room filled with a dozen or so well armed men and women. Julian could hear shouts and blaster fire in the corridors outside the small room.

The soldiers - were they soldiers? he wondered - began snatching up the kids and pushing them toward the door, into the arms of more waiting soldiers. Shocked back to his senses by a whimper beside him, he looked over and saw Jessica, her dark eyes filled with terror.

"What's happening, Julian?" she asked in a voice that betrayed her fear.

"I don't know," he admitted, careful to keep his tone even. "Whatever happens, Jessie, stay close to me."

One of the soldiers grabbed him from behind and shoved him toward the door. "Move it," the man ordered.

Julian scrambled back toward Jessie. The man raised his hand to strike him and Julian flinched. Before the man could complete the move, Julian grabbed Jessica's hand, pulling her to him. She was shivering so he put his arm around her and spoke softly to her.

"It's going to be all right, Jessie. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." The confidence in his voice seemed to appease the girl.

"If you don't get moving, something's going to happen to both of you," the soldier said menacingly. He punctuated the words with a shove in Julian's back.

Holding tightly to Jessica's hand, he shuffled toward the door and the waiting soldiers.

"Stay close, Jessie," he reminded the girl.

At the door, another soldier, a woman, snatched Jessica away from him and headed down the corridor.

"Julian!" Jessica cried.

He could hear the terror in her voice. Before he could decide what to do, he was roughly grabbed from behind by arms so massive they looked like tree trunks. He fought vainly against the arms with everything he had in him until he realized that he was being carried in the same direction as Jessica. His struggle subsided.

The children were carried out of the building and loaded into a waiting transport vehicle. The massive arms tossed Julian through the open hatch of the transport. He landed in a heap at Jessica's feet. She helped him up, clinging tightly to him in fear.

"That's the last of them," someone announced from the front of the vehicle.

A woman made her way slowly through the middle of the crying children, brandishing her weapon and demanding silence. Julian dropped to the floor as the woman approach, pulling Jessica down beside him. Her whimpers were growing louder.

"Hush," he said softly, but firmly. "Don't let them hear you cry."

Jessica attempted to stop crying, succeeding only in halting the audible sounds. The tears continued to fall. Julian drew her close and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"It's going to be all right, Jessie." He spoke soothingly to the girl. "I promise."

Julian jumped back to his feet and slammed the ball against the far wall. Trying desperately to push the memories from his mind, he raced after the ball as it soared past him. Again and again he pounded the ball, each time with more force than the time before. At last, drained of energy, he sank to his knees in the middle of the court. This time he was too spent to fight the memories as they flooded in, taking over his senses. Tears rolled slowly down his face. They fell unheeded to splash on the cold hard floor. He crumbled into a sobbing, emotional heap, face down on the floor. Dimly thankful for the hour, knowing he had complete privacy, he released the emotions that he had kept such tight control of for so long.

"I'm sorry, Jessie," he whispered between sobs. "I'm sorry."

The sobs came hard and relentlessly until there were no tears left. He pulled himself into a tight ball and gasped for breath. Long minutes later, his breath slowed to a steady rhythm. He forced himself to his feet and headed for his quarters.

In the safety of his room he stripped and stepped into a shower cold enough to shock his senses back to normal. He toweled off, dressed in his uniform and, checking the mirror to make sure there was no evidence of his breakdown, he headed for the infirmary.

CHAPTER 3

Garak drummed his fingers absently on the countertop in his small clothing shop. There were no customers, for which he was grateful. He was in no mood to force a politeness he did not feel for the sake of a few strips of latnium. At last, reaching a difficult decision, he scurried to put away the few items he should have been working on and closed the door to his shop. He double checked the security codes and hurried across the Promenade to Quark's Bar.

A quick glance from the doorway disappointed him. Though this was the busiest time of the day for the bar, not one of the people he searched for appeared to be in the room. Well, he would just have to wait, he decided. Sooner or later, at least one of them was bound to come in.

Twenty minutes later, Garak was seated at the bar, trying politely to follow a long-winded story of Morn's, when he noticed Chief O'Brien enter the bar. The stocky Irishman made his way through the crowd to an empty table close to the stairs. Garak waited until the Chief placed his order with a fat Ferengi waiter then excused himself from Morn and made his way over to the table.

"Chief O'Brien," he began, "may I join you?"

O'Brien raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Is there a problem, Garak?"

The Cardassian smiled to himself. He knew of O'Brien's dislike of his race and normally wouldn't have forced himself on the man, but this was not normal circumstances. Without waiting for an invitation that may not have come, Garak sat down.

"I need to talk to you, Chief," he said. "It's about a mutual friend of ours."

The Ferengi waiter returned with O'Brien's drink. The human took a long sip before asking, "I assume you are talking about Julian?"

Garak nodded. "I wonder if you have noticed anything unusual about the doctor lately?"

O'Brien's eyes narrowed. "I've been pretty busy the last few days."

Preparing for the talks, Garak silently added.

"I haven't seen Julian in a couple of days. Why?"

"It's probably nothing, but Doctor Bashir hasn't seemed himself lately." Garak leaned across the table to emphasize his words. "He missed our weekly lunch date today."

O'Brien smiled an is-that-all smile. "Maybe he was busy or forgot."

"The thought crossed my mind as well, but in the three years we've been having lunch together, he hasn't missed one date without notifying me in advance."

"I'm sure there is a perfectly good excuse, Garak. Why don't you ask him?" The Chief sounded impatient.

Garak's smile turned to a frown. "Actually, I did just that. I went by the infirmary to see if there was a problem. He all but yelled at me. He said something about having more important things to do than entertain bored spies."

He could see now that he had the full attention of the human.

"That's not like Julian," O'Brien admitted.

"There's more," Garak continued. "He looks terrible. I don't think he's slept in days and I wouldn't be surprised if he's not eating either."

O'Brien leaned back in his chair, obviously contemplating the information.

Garak smiled and stood up. His mission was accomplished. "I simply wanted to alert you to the potential problem. I'm sure you can take it from here." With a slight bow, he turned and walked away.

O'Brien watched Garak disappear onto the Promenade with a frown. He didn't trust the tailor as far as he could throw him. He and Julian had never seen eye to eye about Garak. Julian insisted that the Cardassian meant him no harm, but O'Brien had never been fully convinced of that. Still, if Garak had seen fit to come to him with a concern about Julian, knowing how O'Brien felt about Cardassians, maybe something was wrong with Julian.

"Problem with the preparations, Chief?" Kira asked.

O'Brien looked up in surprise. He hadn't noticed Dax and Kira approaching. "Hmm? Oh, no. Everything is going according to schedule for a change."

The two women sat down and ordered drinks from the hovering Ferengi waiter. Dax turned back to the Chief. "You look like something's wrong."

"I just had a strange visit from Garak," he announced.

Kira's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Is his replicator out again?" Dax asked.

"Not like you're thinking. He wanted to ask me about Julian."

Dax's look grew concerned. "What about Julian?"

"According to Garak, Julian's been acting strangely the past few days."

"I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary," Kira frowned.

"You've been pretty busy with all of the preparations for the talks," Dax said. "Have you even seen Julian?"

"A couple of times," Kira answered defensively. "But I guess I was too busy to notice. What exactly did Garak say?"

"Well, he said that Julian missed their luncheon date today and when he asked him about it, Julian exploded at him. Said he was too busy to be bothered with it. Garak also said that Julian looked awful."

"I did notice that Julian looked a little tired yesterday," said Dax. "Maybe there's a problem in the infirmary."

"I'm sure that's all it is," Kira said. "As for yelling at Garak, maybe he's finally come to his senses. Maybe he's tired of being pumped for information."

"You know what really bothers me?" asked O'Brien. "How come Garak noticed Julian wasn't himself and we didn't?"

"Well, we have been busy with the preparations for the talks," Kira pointed out.

"But we're his friends," O'Brien objected. "It irritates me that Garak had to tell me something is wrong with Julian."

"Maybe I should go talk to him," Dax suggested.

O'Brien glanced at the chronometer. "He's suppose to meet me here in a few minutes for our darts game."

"I'll just wait, then."

One hour and three drinks later, they were still waiting.

Finally, O'Brien said, "I guess I've been stood up."

"Surely Julian wouldn't forget," Dax protested.

"Maybe he was delayed by an emergency," Kira suggested.

"That will be easy enough to check." Dax tapped her comm badge. "Computer, locate Doctor Bashir."

The toneless female voice replied instantly. "Doctor Bashir is currently in his quarters."

"I guess he did forget," O'Brien said.

"That's not like Julian." Dax was concerned. "Maybe something is wrong." She pushed back her chair and stood. "I think I'll pay him a visit."

The children were unloaded from the transport into what Julian thought was a cargo hold or a warehouse. He thought they were still on Isphesne, but he couldn't be sure. The trip had been so long!

Inside the room, the children were herded into a tight group against one of the walls. Jessica still clung tightly to him. Her tears had stopped, but she trembled still.

"You might as well get comfortable," one of the soldiers shouted. "You will probably be here for quite a while. 'Course, how long depends on your parents."

The children sat down along the wall, huddling close to draw some measure of comfort from one another. Most of the crying had stopped, although Julian could hear some of the younger kids still sniffling. From the corner of his eye, he saw Proctor pull Stefan, the youngest, onto his lap and attempt to settle him down. Rava edged closer to her brother and laid her head against his shoulder.

Julian bit back the tears that filled his eyes and threatened to spill over. He was too old to cry. Besides, what good would it do? But he couldn't push the image of Pre. Saraem from his mind. He knew she was dead, probably had been the instant she fell.

Julian closed his eyes and forced his mind to other subjects. What did the soldiers want? He was old enough to realize that they were being held hostage, which meant that there would be demands made for their release. Whatever the demands were, they would be met, Julian was sure. His dad wouldn't let anything happen to them. He would meet the demands, or if that was impossible, he would find a way to rescue them. His dad was smarter than any kidnappers. He could outwit them. It was just a matter of time.

"Which ones of you belong to the Emperor?" demanded the woman from the transport.

When no one answered, she waved her weapon and repeated the question.

Finally, Proctor set Stefan aside and stood. "I am Proctor, son of Martan, heir to the throne of Isphesne." He announced himself calmly, with as much dignity as he could muster.

The woman laughed at the declaration. "Who else? I know there is one more, a girl."

Slowly, Rava stood beside her brother. Her hand trembled as she reached for his.

"All right," the woman said with a smile of satisfaction. She turned to a massive man beside her, the same one that had carried Julian to the transport, and spoke. "Leave those two for last, Thurl. Any of the others will do."

The man sneered cruelly and moved closer to the children. Julian instinctively pulled Jessica closer. Thurl reached for the closest child and hauled him to his feet. Julian watched in horror as the man wrapped his massive arm around the boy's neck and, before the child could even scream, wrenched his head to the side, snapping the delicate bones of the neck with a sickening sound.

"Damn, Thurl," the woman said. "Did you have to do that right here? Next time go over there, will you?" She pointed across the room.

Julian's heart had stopped in terror. He took a deep breath and willed it to beat again. Tears fell now, unnoticed. He heard a cry beside him and realized he had dug his fingernails into Jessica's arms. He loosened his grasp but did not let go.

He was vaguely aware of Proctor's panicked expression as the boy dropped to the floor in stunned silence, pulling a paralyzed Rava beside him. Not one of the children made a sound. All cried silently, but were too terrified to make a noise.

"Take the body to Jarrin," the woman ordered Thurl. "It's to be delivered with the message. Tell them, one every two hours. Maybe that will light a fire under them."

She turned back to the huddled group of terrified children. "You better hope your papas take us seriously."

Julian heard the door chime, drawing him back to the present. He chose to ignore it. He didn't want company. He wanted to be left alone. The chime sounded again. Damn! It rang one more time before he relented and called, "Come in."

The door slid softly to the side and he heard someone step in. In the darkness, he rubbed at the tears streaming down his face.

"Aren't you going to turn up the lights?" Dax's voice asked.

"No," he said softly.

He heard her make her way slowly across the room toward the couch on which he sat, uttering a soft oath as she stumbled against a piece of furniture.

"I can't see where you are."

"I'm not really in the mood for company tonight, Jadzia. Did you need something?"

He heard the surprise in her voice as she answered. "Julian, is something wrong?" She found the couch at last and dropped down beside him.

"I'm fine."

"You were supposed to meet Chief O'Brien for darts an hour ago."

"I forgot." He felt a twinge of guilt. "Tell him I'm sorry."

"You could tell him yourself. He's still in Quark's. It's not too late for a game."

He shook his head, then realized she couldn't see it in the darkness. "I'm really tired. I'd rather just get to bed early." His voice broke slightly and he prayed Dax hadn't caught it.

"Julian?" She had heard.

"I'm just tired."

"Computer, raise the lights."

To his horror the lights in the room came on instantaneously. He jumped to his feet and strode to the small window, careful to keep his back to the Trill. "Damn it, Jadzia, all I want is a little privacy. Is that too much to ask?"

He heard her sharp intake of breath and knew his outburst had shocked her, but he didn't care. He didn't hear her come up behind him. He didn't know she was there until she took his arm and pulled him around to face her.

Dax was shocked at Julian's appearance, more shocked than she was by his attitude. He had dark shadows beneath his eyes as though he hadn't slept in days. Exhaustion was written all over his face and she wondered if it was physical or emotional. Most shocking of all were the tears that glistened on his face.

"Julian, what's wrong?"

He snatched his arm away with a force that surprised her and turned back to the view of the stars. "I think you should leave now," he said tonelessly.

Dax stepped back in surprise, then took a deep breath and tried again. "Julian, if you have a problem, you know you can talk to me."

He spoke without turning and the vehemence in his voice worried her. "If I had a problem, which I don't, you are the last person I would turn to." He turned, then, to face her. She expected to see anger in his eyes but was surprised to see, instead, fear and pain. "Do you think I don't know how you think of me? You treat me like a joke. When you need something from me, you're all sweetness and light. The rest of the time, you treat me like a rug to wipe your feet on. You've lived so many lifetimes that you've forgotten how to feel. You've used up all of your emotions and you've nothing left for anyone you consider inferior, and you consider all single lifetime creatures inferior. I'm tired of being used by you, Jadzia!" By the time he finished, he was yelling.

Dax stared in stunned silence for a long moment. If she hadn't seen his mouth move she never would have believed the words came from Julian.

"You know that's not true. I care about you, Julian. I would never use you."

"You're not welcome here anymore!" he shouted. "Go find another lap dog, Jadzia."

Dax took a couple of steps backward, her eyes never leaving his face. She searched desperately for some sign that he didn't mean the hurtful words she heard, but found none. Emotions rushed through her and she latched on to the strongest one.

"I have never felt like that about you, Julian," she spit out in anger. "But if you see it that way, then it proves what I thought about you the first time I met you; you are an immature, spoiled little boy."

Julian laughed. The sound sent shivers down her spine.

"If immature means that I haven't lived long enough to become a cold, cynical shell of a person, then I'll take it as a compliment."

Dax turned and rushed out the door, not trusting herself to respond. She ran down the deserted corridor, not stopping until she reached the turbolift. Wiping away a tear, she stepped inside, then changing her mind, she headed for Benjamin's quarters.

Her old friend answered the door on the first chime. Sisko took in her appearance in one quick glance. "What's wrong, old man?"

Dax pushed past Sisko and began pacing the room in long, angry strides.

Sisko watched from a safe distance, recognizing her expression. He knew she was attempting to calm down before answering his question. Finally, she stopped pacing and turned to face him.

"I feel like I was just kicked in the stomach," she announced.

Sisko crossed the room to stand before her. "What happened?"

Dax took a deep breath and visibly gathered herself. "Garak expressed some concern about Julian's state of mind, so I went to see him." She shook her head in what Sisko interpreted as exasperation. "He threw me out!"

"What?!"

"He threw me out!" The shock in her voice matched the expression on her face. "Garak was right. Something is wrong with Julian. I've never seen him like that. He looked awful, like he hasn't slept in days. When I got there he was sitting in the dark - crying! When I asked him if he wanted to talk about it, he exploded."

"What did he say?"

"A lot of unflattering things about me. He accused me of using him. He said I was a cold, unfeeling shell of a person that had long ago lost the ability to care." She resumed her pacing.

"You know he didn't mean it," Sisko said gently. "I'm sure he was angry about something else and only took it out on you because he knows you are a good friend that would understand."

Dax stopped and looked at Sisko. "I thought so at first, Benjamin. But you didn't see the expression in his eyes. The things Julian said were deliberately calculated to be hurtful. Looking back now, I think that he wanted to make me mad enough to go away and leave him alone."

Concern began to show in Sisko's eyes. "Has something happened? Maybe bad news from home?"

Dax tossed her hands in frustration. "I have no idea. We've all been so busy lately with the preparations for the summit that, frankly, no one but Garak noticed that Julian was not himself."

Sisko's eyes grew dark as a thought came to him. "Did Garak say how long the doctor has been acting strangely?"

"I didn't actually talk to him myself. He went to Chief O'Brien with his concerns. A few days I think. Why?"

"It's been three days since I made the announcement about the Isphesnian peace talks being held here."

Dax's expression said she didn't understand.

"I thought at the time that the news meant something to him," Sisko explained. "He seemed agitated. I wondered then if he knew something about the original talks."

Dax frowned, thinking back to the meeting. "But he denied it," she remembered.

"What if he lied?" Sisko speculated.

"Julian wouldn't do that," Dax protested.

Sisko raised his eyebrows. "Maybe you don't know him as well as you thought you did."

Dax sank slowly into a nearby chair. "Maybe I don't." She thought for a minute, then shook her head sharply. "No, that's not it. Something has happened to change Julian, something within the past few days." She met Sisko's eyes as he sat on the couch across from her. "Maybe it was the announcement about the talks."

Sisko ran his hand across the top of his head. "Was Curzon involved in the original talks in any way?"

Dax shook her head. "The negotiations with the Tarrentians were going on at the same time. Curzon was pretty busy with that."

Sisko leaned back and studied the floor for a minute. "Do you think that Doctor Bashir's father could have been involved in the talks?"

Dax looked startled at the suggestion. "According to the report that I saw the talks were mediated by Valerian Wescott. The same Wescott that is coming tomorrow to mediate these talks. Do you know him?"

"We've met a couple of times."

"Curzon worked with him a few times. The first time was after the Isphesnian talks broke down. He was sent to Tarrent to help with the negotiations there." Her forehead creased in thought. "I seem to remember that at the time he was very inexperienced; he was only about twenty five or so. I don't see how he could have been the sole mediator for the Isphesnian talks."

"Maybe he was working with someone else."

"Like Ambassador Bashir?"

"Is it possible?"

She carefully considered the question. "It would explain a lot, but why would his name have been left off of the official records?"

"I can think of only three people that can answer that: Ambassador Bashir, his son, and Wescott."

"Well, I don't want to be the one to ask Julian," she informed him with a slight smile.

"And since I have no idea where his father is at the moment, that leaves Wescott."

"When is he arriving?"

"1100, tomorrow."

Dax nodded and stood. She turning to leave, but stopped short of the door. Facing Sisko again, she asked, "Do you think I use Julian?"

Sisko walked across to her and placed his hands firmly on her slim shoulders. "Of course not. You can't take anything he says personally, Jadzia. I'm sure he didn't really mean it. You watch, he'll probably show up at your door first thing in the morning full of apologies and suitably repentant."

Dax nodded but didn't look convinced. "I wish you had heard him, Benjamin. I never would have dreamed Julian would have had such hurtful words in him." She straightened and smiled. "But I'm sure you're right. Thanks. Kira and O'Brien are waiting for me in Quark's. Goodnight."

CHAPTER 4

Sisko paused outside of the infirmary, reluctant to enter. This was one of the few areas of command that made him feel inadequate, but he felt it necessary to at least talk to Doctor Bashir. Maybe the young man would be more willing to discuss whatever was bothering him with a man than with Dax. At any rate, Bashir had to be called down for his attitude with Dax last night. A quick check with the Trill proved Sisko's theory had been wrong. The morning was half over and Bashir had made no effort to apologize yet.

Taking a deep breath, Sisko stepped into the room and scanned it for the doctor. Bashir was no where to be seen. Sisko was about to consult the computer, when Nurse Jabara entered from one of the back rooms.

Jabara saw the Captain and smiled. "Can I help you, Captain Sisko?"

"I was looking for Doctor Bashir," he said, returning the smile.

The Bajoran's smile faltered for a moment. "He's in his office, but..." She hesitated, glancing toward the office with troubled eyes. "He's working on some important research."

Sisko narrowed his eyes at the nurse. She was obviously trying to diplomatically ask him not to disturb Bashir. He crossed to the woman. "Jabara, I need to ask you something, and I want you to answer freely." He saw the caution cross her face. "A few of the doctor's friends have expressed concern that he has not been himself lately. Have you noticed anything in his behavior that might indicate a problem?"

Indecision replaced the caution in her expression. Sisko knew that Bashir's staff was fiercely loyal to the doctor, but he could also sense the concern for Bashir in his nurse.

Finally, she said, "Doctor Bashir has been somewhat stressed the past couple of days, but all doctors have spells like that from time to time." Her smile returned. "Some that I've worked with stay that way. But you have to understand the tremendous amount of pressure that they work under. Being the only doctor on this station, with no one to turn to for assistance, Doctor Bashir faces more stress than most other physicians."

Sisko allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. Bashir obviously had this woman's complete loyalty. She sounded almost protective of the young man. "Thank you, Jabara. I can see Bashir has chosen his staff well."

Sisko turned toward the office but the nurse stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Sir, if he hasn't been himself lately, I'm sure he has good reason, and it hasn't affected his work in the least bit."

"I'm sure you're right." He took notice of her worried expression as he headed for the doctor's office. The door slid open at his approach and he saw Bashir's back as he leaned over a computer monitor.

The doctor spoke without turning. "I told you I didn't want to be disturbed!" he all but shouted.

Sisko was taken aback by the doctor's tone. "Does that include your commanding officer?"

Bashir spun around. At least, he had to good grace to look embarrassed, Sisko noted.

"Captain, I'm sorry. I thought you were Jabara."

"Do you always talk to your nurses like that?" Sisko asked, taking a seat. He looked closely at the young man. Dax was right. Bashir looked like hell. His handsome face was drawn and gaunt, with dark shadows beneath haunted eyes.

"No, of course not," Bashir said, running a hand through his hair. "I was just preoccupied."

"From what I hear, you've been preoccupied quite a bit lately."

"Is that why you're here?"

"Dax showed up at my door last night after you threw her out. She was more upset than I've seen her in a long time. Whatever you said hurt her a great deal."

A flash of pain showed briefly in Bashir's eyes, but disappeared so quickly, Sisko wondered if he had imagined it. "With all due respect, sir, what transpired between Dax and myself in my quarters is our business."

Sisko straightened, a sure sign that he was irritated. The move was wasted on Bashir. "It became my business when my friend showed up on my doorstep in tears."

"Are you here as Dax's friend or as my commanding officer?"

Sisko rose and leaned over Bashir's desk, a formidable presence that would have intimidated anyone else. Bashir met his eyes without flinching. "I'm here as Dax's friend - who also happens to be your commanding officer." His voice was a bit louder than he wanted it. He lowered it, not wanting any of Bashir's staff to overhear. "I think it has become obvious to a lot of people over the past few days that you have a problem and that problem is affecting your behavior. But I suggest you come to grips with it and get over it. I will not have you callously throwing your opinions around to hurt whomever gets in the way. The morale of this station's personnel is a prime concern to me and, as medical officer, should be to you as well. If you cannot get your personal life under control, than I suggest you request a leave of absence until you can. Am I understood?"

For a long moment Bashir stared without comment. When he spoke, his tone was cold and forced. "Understood...sir."

Sisko met the young man's gaze for another tension-filled minute before turning on his heel and striding quickly from the infirmary.

Sisko entered OPS visibly seething. He headed across the room without a word to anyone, entered his office and let the door slide shut behind him. He had barely taken his seat when the chime at the door sounded.

Knowing who it was, he sighed and called, "Come in, old man."

Dax stopped just inside the door, as if threatened by his dark mood. Sisko knew better. It took a lot more that a sour mood to threaten Dax.

"Is there a problem?" she probed.

Sisko grabbed up the baseball from it's stand on the desk before him. He rolled it in his fingers for several long minutes before speaking. "I just paid a visit to Doctor Bashir."

Dax nodded in understanding and moved forward to take a seat in front of the desk. "I see. I take it his mood has not improved since last night."

Sisko replaced the ball and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desktop. "He told me to mind my own business."

Dax gasped in surprise.

"His tone with me was just short of insubordination. I don't think he knows how close he is to being put on report."

"Benjamin, something's wrong. That's not like Julian, you know that."

"I don't care what his problem is, there is no excuse for his behavior. I cannot have one of my senior officers verbally attacking everyone around him."

"Did he say anything that might shed light on what's eating him?"

Sisko frowned. "I didn't really give him a chance." He steepled his fingers and stared around them at his old friend. "He made me angry almost as soon as I entered his office and I laid into him."

"He did the same thing with me, last night," Dax observed. "He cut us off before we could probe into his problem."

"You think it was a calculated move?"

"It certainly looks that way. He doesn't want to take a chance that anyone might discover whatever is bothering him, so he's pushing away everyone close to him."

Sisko considered the theory. It made sense. It was certainly easier than believing his CMO had snapped. "But why would he hide the problem? Why wouldn't he come to one of us with it?"

"Maybe he isn't ready to talk about it yet. I think we should give him some time, let him come to grips with whatever it is. We should let him know we'll be there when he is ready to discuss it."

"I wish we could, old man," Sisko sighed. "But if my suspicions are correct and this has something to do with the peace talks, whether he's ready or willing to talk about it, or not, we can't let it rest."

Kira's voice broke in over Sisko's comm badge. "Captain, the Amity has contacted us. They will arrive in ten minutes."

Sisko exited his office into OPS, followed by Dax.

At his unspoken question, Kira announced, "Docking bay six."

The Captain nodded in acknowledgment. "The Ambassador has requested no special pains on his account, which I assume to mean we can forgo the formal uniforms for this meeting."

"I like him already," Kira said smiling.

"Notify Odo. Major, Dax, O'Brien, you're with me."

Sisko was half-way to the turbolift when Kira's voice stopped him. "What about Doctor Bashir?"

Sisko answered without turning. "I think I'll let him skip this one, Major."

Odo was waiting at the airlock when the other officers arrived. Kira was still puzzled by Sisko's decision not to have Bashir join them. Protocol demanded that all of the senior officers be on hand for the arrival of certain dignitaries. Sisko always followed protocol - well, almost always. She wondered briefly if it had something to do with what Dax had said last night upon returning from Bashir's quarters. Was Sisko punishing Bashir?

She glanced over at O'Brien and knew he was thinking along the same line. A twist of pity for the Irishman coursed through her. He considered Bashir a friend and yet he had been so busy with the preparations for the conference that he had not even had time to notice there was a problem, much less try to confront Bashir about it.

Kira straightened her shoulders, suddenly glad that she had little time or energy for close friendships. Too many complications, too much effort. It was seldom worth it, she decided. Glancing at Dax's worried face, she repeated the sentiment. She wanted no part of any friendship that caused as much pain as Dax was obviously feeling, had felt last night.

The grinding of the airlock door rolling open drew the attention of the assembled officers. Two men, presumably security, stepped through, followed closely by a tall, strongly built man, obviously the Ambassador. The man stepped forward and extended his hand to Sisko.

"Benjamin, how good to see you again."

Sisko accepted the handshake. "I'm surprised you remember me, Ambassador Wescott."

"Please, it's Valerian. Remember you? How could I forget anyone that plays poker like you do?" The big man's laughter boomed through the corridor. "The stories you told while we played made losing almost a pleasure."

"Welcome to Deep Space Nine, Valerian." He turned to his staff, but before he could begin introductions, Wescott spoke.

"We've met before, haven't we?" He had stepped forward to stand before Dax.

She smiled up at him in pleasant surprise. "Jadzia Dax, formally Curzon Dax. But how did you know?"

Wescott took her hand between both of his. "One-fourth Betazoid. It's not much but occasionally it rears it's arduous head. That's one of the few things about me that Curzon never knew." He took in her new form with one swift glance. "I guess I don't need to tell you that this is a definite improvement." He studied her face with suddenly concerned eyes. "Is something wrong?"

Dax's smile faded quickly. "We can discuss it later, Valerian."

He nodded in understanding. "I'll look forward to it."

Sisko quickly made the rest of the introductions. Wescott acknowledged each gracefully, then turned to Sisko. "I expected Julian would be on hand to greet me."

Sisko's eyes widened in surprise. "I wasn't aware that you knew Doctor Bashir."

The Ambassador's smile saddened briefly. "Didn't he mention it?"

"I'm afraid not. However, he's been...preoccupied lately."

"Since the announcement of the talks coming to your station?" Though it was phrased as a question, Sisko suspected Wescott already knew the answer.

It was Dax that answered. "As a matter of fact, yes. Is there something we should know?"

Wescott's eyes grew sad. "It is not something that I am free to discuss. I am bound by my oath to silence. Just be patient with young Julian. He has been forced by circumstances beyond his control to face demons he thought long buried."

Sisko wanted to press the matter, question Wescott further, but now was not the time or place. "I'm sure you are tired, Ambassador," he said, "and would like to freshen up. I'll show you to your quarters."

Dismissing his staff, Sisko led the way toward the habitat ring.

"I'm afraid these are the best we can offer," he said, entering the Ambassador's quarters. "We're not really set up for this sort of thing."

"This will do nicely," Wescott assured him. "I realize this is a major inconvenience for you and your people, Benjamin, but the choice of your station was entirely out of the Federation's hands."

Sisko raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Wescott chuckled. "Believe me, I tried to talk the Isphesnian delegation into any of a number of other locations. Locations more convenient and more easily secured. But the Empress insisted that the talks be held here."

"Do you know why?"

"I have my suspicions, but, no, I don't know for sure."

"Well, we have done our best to assure the safety of all involved. Constable Odo will be available as soon as you are rested to go over the security precautions with you."

"That will be fine." Wescott walked across the spacious room. There was obviously something more he wanted to say. Turning back to face Sisko, he said, "I wonder if perhaps you and your staff would join me for dinner tonight?"

"Of course," said Sisko. "We could have planned a proper reception, but I was under the impression you preferred to skip the formalities."

"No, no. You are correct." Wescott assured him. "It's just that I prefer to discuss the agenda over a casual meal with old friends."

Sisko nodded. He had a feeling that the agenda was not what was on the Ambassador's mind. The suspicion was confirmed with Wescott's next words.

"I would really like to see Julian there."

"Of course. If you would care to see him sooner, I can take you to the infirmary."

"That won't be necessary, Benjamin. Tonight will be fine."

Sisko took a deep breath and broached the subject foremost on his mind at the moment. "You mentioned something about Julian's demons before."

A cloud passed over the Ambassador's face. "I'm sorry, Benjamin, I can't tell you more than I have."

"In the past three days, Doctor Bashir has gone from a personable, charming young man to a bitter, angry man that not even his closest friends recognize. This morning he came very close to being written up for insubordination. So, if you know something that could help me help him, I need to know what that is."

Wescott let out a deep breath and dropped into the closest chair. "I'm afraid there is nothing any of us can do to help him, Benjamin. No one, except maybe..." He shook his head, dismissing the thought. "He has been running from these demons his whole adult life and until he faces them down and puts them behind him once and for all, there is no help for him. All we can do is be there for him when he is ready."

Sisko shook his head in frustration. Why wouldn't someone tell him what the hell was going on? He glared at Wescott, silently willing the man to say something helpful.

"I'm sorry. I gave my oath."

"To whom?" Sisko demanded.

Wescott clasped his hands in his lap and studied them. He seemed to be considering how much he could safely say. Finally, "I think if you carefully consider the information you have, you can figure that out."

Sisko turned to the window, staring silently at the stars beyond. What information did he have? His thoughts went back to what Dax had said earlier, that Wescott had been a young, inexperienced man twenty years ago.

"I know that you couldn't have conducted the original talks alone," he said, turning.

Wescott nodded, but remained silent.

"Was Ambassador Bashir involved?"

"I can't answer that."

Sisko smiled. "The fact that you can't tells me he was."

Wescott rose, signaling an end to the game. "The rest will have to come from Julian, I'm afraid."

"If he decides to confide in anyone."

Wescott nodded, conceding the point. "Be patient with him, Benjamin. This will soon be behind us all."

Sisko suddenly realized there were shadows in Wescott's own eyes. Whatever the secret, this man was affected by it as well.

"I'll have Major Kira take care of the dinner plans and notify you of the details."

"Thank you," Wescott said, leading the way to the door. "I'll see you then."

Julian's legs had fallen asleep long ago, but he didn't dare move. Jessica had finally fallen asleep, her head in his lap. He couldn't bring himself to risk waking her, even to restore the circulation in his legs. Most of the children were sleeping. He envied them their ability to shut out the horror around them. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Pre. Saraem, laying across her desk, blood flowing from the hole in her chest, in rivers, dark and red, across their test papers, down the sides of the desk and puddling on the floor. Or he saw Vircen, the terror in his eyes as Thurl calmly snapped his neck. Or Desphe, or Tason.

Julian jerked his eyes open with a start. He shook his head to drive away the sleep. He couldn't allow himself to sleep. He looked around and caught Proctor's eye, an eye that was swollen and bruised. Proctor had attempted, in vain, to stop the soldiers when they had come for another child. The older boy forced a smile. Stefan lay across his lap, Rava, against his shoulder, both sleeping.

"It will be all right," he assured Julian softly. "We have to be strong for the younger children."

"My dad will come. He won't let anything happen to us." The confidence he felt was strong in his voice.

Proctor smiled and nodded, but Julian saw the doubt in his eyes.

He will come, Julian argued silently. He would come and he would save them all. His dad wouldn't let anything happen to them.

But something had already happened to them. Three of his classmates, his friends, were dead. Where was his dad? Why hadn't he come to save them yet?

Julian's stomach growled. They had been given water a couple of times and taken to the bathroom, but no one had seen fit to feed them.

Across the room, the door opened and Thurl walked in. Julian's stomach twisted painfully. He caught his breath and held it. As the man drew closer, Julian squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to God with all of his might.

A startled cry opened his eyes against his will. He didn't want to know who it was; he didn't want to see it happen. But he couldn't tear his eyes from the big man as he dragged the suddenly paralyzed child behind him. He couldn't tear his eyes away as the man wrapped his arm around Curros' neck and gave it a savage jerk. At last, his eyes obeyed his order to close. But that did nothing to block out the sound of the boy's last scream, cut off by the seemingly louder sound of the bones snapping.

Julian squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to stop the sudden flow of tears. A stirring against his sleep-numbed legs forced his eyes open again. He was relieved to see that Curros' body was gone.

Jessica sat up, noticing his tears. "What's wrong, Julian?"

He didn't answer. What could he say? Wasn't Jessica scared enough?

The girl glanced around the area. Most of the children were awake now. The crying had started again. "Where is Curros?" Jessica asked. She searched for the boy's face desperately. "Where is he, Julian?"

Julian met her eyes, trying to force his heart from his throat so he could speak. "They took him, Jessie." It was all he could say.

Jessica pulled herself into a tight ball, but surprisingly, she did not cry. Maybe she didn't have any tears left, Julian thought. He put his arms around her. Even her trembling had stopped. Was she numb to everything?

"We'll be all right, Jessie." The doubt in his voice surprised even him, but he continued anyhow. "He will come."

Julian stared into the eyes of the man in the photograph, willing them to reveal something, anything. But just like every time before, he was disappointed.

"Why didn't you come, Father?" he whispered to the man in the picture, knowing he would get no answer. "I promised Jessie you would save her. She died believing I was a liar."

In a sudden burst of anger, Julian ripped the photo in half. The action felt good so he ripped it again, and again. When he calmed down enough to stop, all that remained of the man's image was a pile of shredded fragments on the floor. Julian watched in abstract detachment as a teardrop splashed in the center of the pile.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped over the fragments and went into the bathroom to wash his face. If he didn't hurry, he suddenly realized, he would be late for the dinner; not that he really cared, but Captain Sisko had made it an order and he had pushed the man's patience to the limit already today. Hell, he had pushed everyone to the limit lately. Some, maybe, past the limit, he admitted with a sigh of regret.

He toweled his face dry and caught sight of its reflection in the mirror. God! Who was that man? He barely recognized himself. His face was thinner than he could ever remember it being and there were shadows beneath his eyes, but the shadows paled in comparison to the dark, haunted expression in the eyes themselves.

He had to have some sleep; he couldn't go on like this, afraid to close his eyes for fear of the nightmares. Tonight, he decided, he would risk a sedative, one strong enough to ensure a sound, dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER 5

Dax, Kira, and O'Brien were standing near the head of a beautifully set table when Julian entered the room. Kira looked up and frowned when she caught sight of him. Some unreadable emotion flashed briefly across the Bajoran's features. Julian turned away.

A quick glance around the room showed that Captain Sisko had not yet arrived; nor had Odo or the Federation Ambassador. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief. At least, he wouldn't be reprimanded for being late.

"I much prefer the dinner table to the bargaining table, don't you?"

Julian started at the voice at his elbow. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a tall, heavily muscled man grinning at him in open pleasure. Something about the man seemed familiar. His tired mind raced, trying to place where he knew him from. Suddenly, the information clicked into place.

"Ambassador Wescott?"

"Julian!" There was genuine warmth in the man's deep voice. "All grown up, but I would have known you anywhere. You are the spitting image of your father when I first met him."

A cloud descended over Julian's features. He clearly remembered the first meeting between the two men. It had been shortly after Wescott's arrival on Isphesne to assist his father in the negotiations.

Wescott noticed the cloud. "All these years and it still haunts you, doesn't it, my boy?"

Julian turned his head away from the pity in the voice. He didn't want to be patronized with pity and false understanding from people that couldn't possibly know how he was feeling. His eye caught Dax, coming toward them and he swore softly, not noticing Wescott's raised eyebrow at the oath.

Dax smiled uncertainly at Julian. A flash of guilt coursed through him as he remembered the pain in that same face last night.

"You look delightful, old friend," Wescott said approvingly. "If only you had looked like this all those years ago when I was available - and young."

Dax turned a dazzling smile on the Ambassador. "From what I remember, Valerian, you wouldn't have noticed anyway. I seem to recall that you only had eyes for a certain Tarrentian reporter."

Wescott laughed, a deep, booming sound that filled the room. "You recall right. I married that reporter."

"No wonder you seem so content." Dax joined in the laughter. "You didn't bring her here with you?"

Wescott's smile faded and he glanced toward Julian. "No, she remained on Earth - with our daughter."

Julian's head lifted slightly at the news.

"I didn't know you had a child," Dax said. "How old is she?"

Wescott nodded, not taking his eyes from Julian. "She'll be ten next month. Her name is Luba."

Anger coursed through Julian. Wescott had a daughter, ten years old. The same age as Jessie when...He couldn't complete the thought. Jessie would be forever ten.

Wescott placed his hand on Julian's arm. "Julian, since I became a father, I have gained some small measure of understanding for what you all must have gone through."

Julian turned angry eyes to the Ambassador, vaguely aware of Dax's penetrating stare. "At least you had the good sense not to bring your family into the lion's den."

A sad expression crossed Wescott's face. "Your father never would have taken you with him if he had even so much as suspected there would be trouble. You have to believe that."

Julian stared at the man in barely masked fury. How dare he defend his father to him! What did he know of the man? Knowing he was about to say something he shouldn't, he turned on his heel and left.

Dax watched Julian walk away with a heavy sigh. "Why would that make him so angry?" she asked.

"It brings back painful memories," Wescott said sadly.

"Memories of Isphesne?"

"You'll have to ask him that," the Ambassador stated simply. He met Dax's gaze. "Jadzia, how close are you and Julian?"

Dax's mouth twisted into a frown. "Until yesterday, I thought we were very good friends, but lately Julian has been pushing away everyone close to him, shutting us out of whatever he's going through."

"Julian is in pain, old friend. He's pushing all of you away because he doesn't want to confront that pain; he wants to hide from it, pretend it can't touch him. If he shares it with anyone, then he will be forced to face it in all its ugliness." He shook his head sadly. "It's been nigh on to twenty years now and, to the best of my knowledge, he has never discussed it with anyone."

"I don't understand why you can't tell us yourself. You obviously know. Surely, if we knew, we could help him."

"I only know bits and pieces. I'm not sure if anyone knows the whole story. But I'm sworn to silence, old friend, and I take my word very seriously."

Dax grew silent, considering the information. To whom had Wescott sworn his silence? Somehow she didn't think it would help to ask him. He was so damned closemouthed! If only he would tell her what was wrong with Julian, maybe she could help him. She looked across the room to where Julian had taken his place at the table. She had to find a way to help him - whether he wanted the help or not.

Intentionally or not, Bashir's sullen mood had dampened the spirits of those around him. Small talk continued around the doctor, but after a few attempts to include him in the talk failed miserably, no one seemed willing to try again.

Sisko frowned in the doctor's direction. He had about lost his patience where Bashir's attitude was concerned, but he forced himself to remember Wescott's pleas to give the young man time. How much more time he was willing to give him, Sisko had no idea. Shaking away the thoughts, he turned back to the conversation to his left.

"I never knew that Curzon was aware of my...late night escapades," Wescott was saying. A mischievous smile lit his handsome features.

"Curzon was aware of a lot of things," Dax informed him mysteriously. "You'd be surprised at how little escaped his attention."

A spot of red crept into prominence on the Ambassador's face. Sisko found himself wondering just what those escapades entailed.

"Well, then, it's a good thing that Jadzia has the good grace to feign ignorance," Wescott said hopefully.

Laughter erupted at the table - from everyone except Bashir, Sisko noticed from the corner of his eye.

"Wait a minute," O'Brien protested. "I want to hear about those 'escapades'."

"Well," Dax said, with a wink to Wescott, "you won't hear about them from me. I'm too much of a lady to carry these tales."

The admission brought more laughter. Wescott apparently noticed Julian's lack of participation and directed a comment in his direction.

"I imagine that your father could top even Jadzia's stories, Julian."

"Perhaps."

Wescott frowned. Hardly a response. "Did he ever tell you the story about the mix-up at the cleansing ceremonies on Denerab Prime?"

"No." The tone was soft, non-committal.

Wescott sighed. "Perhaps another time." He paused and tried again. "I haven't seen Jonathan in a while. How is he?"

Julian finally raised his eyes and met the Ambassador's gaze. "You would be in a better position to know that than I would."

The coldness in his voice surprised Sisko as much as the words, and as much as Ambassador Wescott's response. He met Julian's gaze and nodded. "I guess I really expected as much."

Awkward silence followed. No one seemed willing to break it until Wescott turned back to Bashir. "I never got a chance to congratulate you on your success in medical school and your posting here, Julian. I hear there were a number of hospitals and starships courting your consideration. In fact, I heard just recently that Admiral Jennison had filed a personal request with Starfleet headquarters for you to be posted to Starbase 61. I was told he threw a royal temper tantrum when you chose Deep Space Nine instead. I don't think anyone has ever turned him down before."

Every eye at the table glanced at the Ambassador in surprise. Sisko looked at the doctor as though seeing him for the first time. He had known that Bashir had graduated second in his class and, as a result, had had his choice of postings. But, perhaps, he had taken those skills for granted. Admiral Jennison had a reputation for surrounding himself with only the brightest and most gifted young officers. The man had snatched many such officers from under the noses of countless Starfleet brass. The fact that Jennison had not been able to obtain Bashir spoke volumes for the young man's prominence in the decision making process. A quick glance at the other officers showed that they, too, understood the significance of the information.

Bashir looked at Wescott, a questioning confusion in his eyes.

Wescott smiled. "I've kept in close touch with Jonathan over the years and have followed your career through him. But I have to say that I knew you were destined for greatness the first time I met you. He was only ten years old, Benjamin, and he recited the names of all thirty-seven members of the Isphesnian Parliament, and he had only met them himself that night."

Bashir smiled in spite of himself. "I'll never forget the look on your face."

Sisko was relieved to see the young man relax somewhat.

Wescott laughed. "I had never met anyone with a memory like that before, or such a precocious child." He paused briefly and Sisko could see indecision on his face. "Except for maybe Jessica."

Sisko knew instantly that the Ambassador's words had been a mistake. Bashir's eyes grew cold and his expression filled with hatred. Wescott seemed to visibly withdraw from the intensity of the gaze.

"Don't ever speak her name to me again." The words were spoken softly through clenched teeth. Bashir stood suddenly and stormed from the room.

It wasn't until after the doors slid firmly shut behind the young man that Sisko heard a collective sigh of relief from the officers around the table.

"What the hell was that about?" Kira demanded.

"Who is Jessica?" O'Brien asked.

"I should never have said that," Wescott admitted sadly.

An uncomfortable silence followed as the officers watched Wescott, waiting for an explanation that each suspected would not come. Finally, the man turned to Sisko. "Benjamin, would it be possible for you to find someone to handle Julian's duties for the next 26 hours or so?"

Sisko was taken aback by the odd request. "Doctor Bashir has a highly trained staff, I'm sure they can handle most anything."

Wescott nodded and stood. "Thank you, Ben. I'm sure you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

With that the Ambassador said good night and left the room.

"I suspect he has a plan," Dax said uncertainly. "I only hope he knows what he's doing. I miss the old Julian."

"So do I, old man," Sisko said unexpectedly. "So do I."

Quark sighed forlornly and leaned his elbows on the bar. Morn was deeply into another of his patently boring stories and, though the Ferengi feigned interest, his thoughts were elsewhere. Elsewhere - on important matters.

Keeping an ear to Morn's dronings, Quark let his eyes stray around the normally bustling bar. There were scarcely a dozen patrons in the establishment and few of those were gambling. If this kept up much longer, he would have to have a talk with Captain Sisko. After all, he reasoned, if the captain were going to insist that he remain here on this god-forsaken derelict of a station, the least the human could do was insure that he didn't go bankrupt doing it.

A large well-dressed human entered the bar just then, catching Quark's attention. The Ferengi excused himself from Morn trying to disguise the relief in his voice, and went to the opposite end of the bar.

"What can I get for you?" he asked, evaluating the potential customer. The cut and quality of the suit spoke of money and prestige. Perhaps if he could talk the human into a foray in one of the holosuites, a little dabo...

"I was told you were the person to see for quality merchandise."

Quark's ears perked up. This sounded like a profitable transaction. "If it's for sale, I have it. What, exactly, are you in the market for?"

"I have need for two bottles of premium Arkcanian Brostra."

Quark straightened in surprise. "I don't think I heard you correctly. I could have sworn you just asked for Arkcanian Brostra."

The human smiled. "You heard correctly, friend. Can you help me?"

"I'm sure you know that Arkcanian Brostra is highly valued for it's...unique properties. As such, it is extremely hard to come by."

"I'm aware of that, but I was told you could procure most anything of value. If my information is in error..." He left the sentence unfinished.

Quark shook his knobby head in adamant denial. "No, no. I assure you, your information was most correct. I may know where I could get my hands on one bottle of Brostra." Hell, getting his hands on the Brostra would be no problem at all, he had four bottles of the stuff safely hidden away in his office safe; letting go of it would be the problem. He was saving the highly prized liquor for his own personal use. The rich golden liquid was known for its abilities to relax and dampen inhibitions. It was very useful in business dealings - and romantic interludes.

Quark grinned lewdly and reached a gnarled hand up to his ear. He had bought the expensive liquor with Major Kira and Lieutenant Dax in mind, he was just waiting for the right opportunity to use it. Oh well, surely he could accomplish just as much with three bottles. Business was business, after all. "Yes, I believe I can get you one bottle, but I'm afraid it won't be cheap."

"Price is no object," the human announced absurdly. "I am willing to pay you well for your trouble. But I'm afraid that one bottle will not be enough."

Quark narrowed his eyes. Money was no object? Well, maybe he could get by on two.

Wescott accepted the two bottles of liquor from the Ferengi and paid the agreed upon price. It was outrageous, but he was more than willing to meet it if it would help Julian. The Ambassador made his way to the doctor's quarters and sounded the chime. There was no answer. Not surprising. He sounded the chime again, waited a few minutes and touched it again. It might take all night but he was determined to keep trying until the boy answered.

On the sixth try, the door slid open and Julian stood before him. Without waiting for an invitation that he knew would not come, Wescott pushed his way past Julian into the room.

"I don't want visitors," Julian announced coldly.

"That's a shame because you have one anyhow." Wescott made an effort to keep his voice light. "And I suspect that visitors are exactly what you need at the moment."

He ignored the young man's angry face and set the bottles of Brostra on the table. Turning back to face the wrath, he said, "Julian, I'm sorry. I made a mistake bringing up Jessica. I just thought that--"

"You thought that you could force me to talk about something that I don't want to talk about," Julian interrupted angrily. "No one here knows anything about that part of my life, Wescott, and that's the way I want it."

"I know that. That's why I'm here."

Julian looked at him in confusion. "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing, I assure you, although it hasn't been easy keeping secrets around here. These people care about you and they want to help. They are full of questions about the changes in your behavior and attitude." Wescott gathered two glasses from a high shelf and opened one of the bottles while he talked. "It seems to me that you are inviting them to pry into the incident with your actions here lately. If you want them to leave you alone you should not give them reason to be concerned."

He filled the glasses and handed one to Julian.

"What's this?" the young man asked.

Wescott took a small sip of the golden liquid. "One of the most delightful pleasures known to man."

Julian set the glass on the table, untouched. "I don't want it."

"You mean to tell me you don't want to get totally, smashingly, falling down drunk? Come now, Julian, we both know better."

Julian looked at the glass for a minute. "I'm on call."

"Not anymore," Wescott announced with a smile. "I took care of that."

"What did you do?" Julian asked suspiciously.

"I just informed Benjamin that you needed some rest," he lied. "He assured me that this station could get along without you for a short while."

Julian stared at him for a long moment, then picked up the drink and downed it.

Wescott smiled and refilled the glass. Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as he had imagined. He retrieved the open bottle and followed Julian to the seating area. Julian dropped heavily onto the couch and Wescott took a chair across from him. He set the liquor on the table between them.

"Julian-- " Wescott began.

"The drink I want," Julian interrupted, "the conversation I don't."

Wescott frowned and leaned back in his chair, prepared to wait until the drink relaxed the young man enough to open up.

Julian was on his fifth glass, Wescott still nursing his first, when the young man finally spoke.

"Why did the Isphesnians choose this station for their talks?"

"I don't know," Wescott lied. "Does it matter?"

Julian sat forward and refilled his glass. "It matters to me!" he said loudly. "It took a long time for me to put that day behind me."

"You never really put it behind you," Wescott said softly. "All you did was bury it, shallowly, to resurface again every time something reminds you of it. To truly put it behind you, you have to look it squarely in the face, confront all of the memories."

Julian laughed, the sound at odds with the bitter expression on his face. "You sound like the therapists."

"Maybe you should listen to their advice."

"They pronounced me cured years ago, over my ordeal and ready to resume a normal life." He spoke the words as if reading a patient's chart.

"I think they were mistaken."

"Where did you get your degree?"

"Then, perhaps you wouldn't mind if I call up a picture of Jessica on your computer."

The pain in the young man's eyes was unbearable in its intensity. Wescott steeled himself and continued, his voice softer. "Julian, reliving the terror of that day is not the same as confronting it."

Julian closed his eyes tightly.

Hoping the Arkcanian Brostra was beginning to have its effect, Wescott said, "Maybe it would help to talk to me about it. You know anything you say will not leave this room."

Julian shook his head without opening his eyes. "It hurts too much. Even after all these years, the pain is unbearable."

Wescott moved over to the couch and placed his hand on the young man's arm. "What hurts, Julian?" he asked, knowing the answer. "Tell me what is so painful."

"I couldn't save her." Tears worked their way from the corners of his closed lids. "I promised I would take care of her. She trusted me."

"I was at the hospital with Jonathan when they brought you in, Julian. I know that they beat you almost to death for trying to save her. No one could have done more. I think that Jessica knew that."

Julian opened his eyes, but focused on nothing. "You didn't see her as they took her away. You didn't hear her scream my name over and over, begging me to help." His hands clamped over his ears as he spoke, as though trying to block out the cries, even now.

Wescott's heart lurched in pity at the terror the children must have gone through. How could anyone live with the memories of such horrors? He thought again of Luba, safe back on Earth with her mother. Would he be able to deal with her death in such a brutal fashion? He shook his head to dispel the thoughts. He was here to help Julian, he reminded himself.

The young man was rocking back and forth, his hands clamped over his ears, tears streaming down his face. Wescott wrapped his massive arms around the young man, pulling him close. "I know it hurts, Julian, but you have to face it if you are to ever begin to heal. I think that perhaps you are finally ready to do that. Why don't you tell me about that day?"

Six hours later, Wescott lifted the sleeping young man and placed him gently on the bed.

A small smile of victory graced his face. At least, he thought he had been victorious. If nothing else, Julian would, at last, get some much needed sleep, without the dreaded nightmares. He chuckled. Hell, the boy had finished off both bottles of the Brostra. He could probably sleep through a Dominion attack.

Hopefully, he had accomplished more than that. Julian had talked, really talked, for perhaps the first time since it had happened. Wescott suppressed a shudder at the memory of some of the things Julian had revealed about that day twenty years ago. He had known most of it, of course, but some of the things Julian had said had come as a horrible surprise. It was no wonder that the boy found himself unable to face the memories.

Maybe he had helped. Only time would tell.

Wescott turned to leave, but his attention caught on an object lying on the night table beside the bed. With a frown, he picked up the hypospray and checked the cylinder. It was loaded. He glanced toward Julian's sleeping form, then dropped the hypo into his pocket and slipped quietly from the room.

CHAPTER 6

"Jadzia!" Wescott called after the Trill as she stepped into the turbolift. He hurried to catch up with her, his long legs closing the distance in a few strides.

Dax smiled up at him without much enthusiasm. "Good morning, Valerian."

Wescott understood her dampened spirits. She was worried about her friend. A sudden thought occurred to him and he smiled. Were Jadzia and Julian more than friends? It was obvious that his old friend cared deeply for the young man.

"How is Julian?" Dax asked cautiously.

"He's sleeping," Wescott informed her. "I think he'll stay that way at least the rest of the day, hopefully longer."

Dax's eyes narrowed. "How did you manage that?"

Wescott laughed. "I got him drunk," he admitted sheepishly.

Dax joined in the laughter. Relief shone from her eyes. "It's probably what he needed most."

The human suddenly sobered. "I need a favor, Jadzia."

"Is something wrong?" She picked up on his mood.

"I hope not." Wescott reached into his pocket and removed the hypospray. "Could you help me find out what's in this?"

Dax took the hypo and examined it. "Where did you get it?"

"I'm afraid I took it from Julian's quarters last night."

Dax looked up sharply. "You don't think..." She couldn't bring herself to complete the thought.

"No, no," Wescott said quickly. "I'm sure Julian wouldn't do anything that stupid. It's probably just some kind of medication or a vitamin supplement, maybe."

The worry in the young woman's eyes told him she didn't believe his denial. "If you believed that you wouldn't be asking me to check it out. I can analyze this in just a few minutes in the lab. Would you like to accompany me?"

"It's a sedative," Dax announced less than five minutes later, "though a very strong one."

"I guess he realized he needed some sleep." Wescott's voice was soft.

"I'm surprised he would take something this strong. He takes his medical responsibilities very seriously."

"He didn't take it and we have no way of knowing if he actually would have," Wescott pointed out. "I think he was just desperate to get some rest without the risk of nightmares."

Dax swiveled her chair to face the Ambassador. "Valerian, why can't you tell us what's going on with Julian?"

Wescott sighed heavily. "It's not my place, Jadzia."

Her eyes flashed anger. "Helping Julian is not your place? I apologize for being too dense to understand that."

"I would love to tell you everything, old friend. God knows I would. But it has to come from Julian. He has to be the one to decide when and if to confide in you. It's part of the healing process. Besides, I gave him my word that I would not repeat anything he said to me last night and I think that he needs to know that he can trust me."

Dax's anger gave way to frustration. "Isn't there anything that you can say?"

Wescott grew silent as he considered the question. Finally, he asked, "How much have you guessed already, Jadzia?"

"I know that you were on Isphesne twenty years ago, just before the war broke out. From what you said at dinner last night, I gather that Julian and his father were there, also. You mentioned nightmares and demons, both in reference to Julian. So, I believe something horrible must have happened to him there. Something so bad that the memory of it has him torn up inside."

She paused, waiting for Wescott to deny or confirm her words. The human was silent.

"There are very few details in the official report, which is surprising in itself. I do know that there was a terrorist attack during the midst of the talks." Her eyes widened in sudden realization. "Was Julian a victim of that attack? Or maybe his father?"

Wescott's expression grew sad. "Why don't you ask Julian?"

"I tried to talk to him, but it was a disaster. We both said things we shouldn't have, hurtful things that we couldn't take back."

"Maybe you should try again. He may be ready now."

Dax cocked her head and studied the man. "What happened last night, Valerian?"

Wescott spread his hands. "We talked, that's all."

"Why did he talk to you, and not one of us?" Dax sounded hurt.

"Don't take it personally," Wescott said with a slight smile. "I already know most of the story, so I knew what buttons to push. Plus, I had an unfair advantage - Arkcanian Brostra."

Dax smiled. "I'd say that was unfair." She sobered. "Do you think it helped?"

"Time will tell, old friend. But, if you're religious, a prayer wouldn't hurt."

Julian opened his eyes slowly, expecting to be hit by the effects of a massive hangover. He wasn't. Oddly, he felt pretty good. Cautiously, he stepped from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. A quick shower, a little breakfast, and he felt like tackling even a room full of Klingons. Well, he smiled, at least one, if he could have his choice of hyposprays.

He glanced quickly at the chronometer on his way out the door. 0930 hours. As he hurried down the corridor toward the turbolift, he breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't missed much of his shift, after all. As refreshed as he felt, he thought he had slept much longer. He stepped into the empty lift and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.

It was odd that he should feel so good, better than he had felt in days. It must be the effects of a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. He shook his head slowly. He knew why he felt better. Somehow Wescott had managed to get him to open up. He remembered every word of the conversation, which was surprising in itself; he knew he had been dead drunk. He had told Wescott things he had told no one, not even the therapists all those years ago. What in the world had gotten in to him?

He should be furious with the Ambassador, but, he realized with a start, he wasn't. It had been almost a relief to finally share his fears and feelings with someone.

He exited the lift on the Promenade and headed for the infirmary. He would need to talk to Wescott, of course, remind him that the things he had said could go no further. He just wasn't ready to share his pain with anyone else.

Jabara looked up when he entered the infirmary. Relief and pleasure shone bright in her eyes. "Look who's back from the dead!" she exclaimed.

Julian smiled broadly. "Miss me?"

The Bajoran nurse returned the smile. "I've missed the old Julian, and I must say, it's wonderful to see him again. You look almost human."

"That's nothing compared to how I feel. Any problems to report?"

"Nothing serious." She called up some information on a nearby monitor. "There have been the normal minor scrapes and bruises. Ensign Huie sustained a hairline fracture of the right fibula in an accident in the docking ring. I'll notify her to come by later today and let you have a look at it. Oh, and one of the members of the Isphesnian security had an upset stomach last night. I think it was a reaction to something he ate in Quark's."

Julian's head jerked up. "I thought the Isphesnian advance teams were due to arrive this afternoon."

"Yesterday afternoon," Jabara corrected him.

Julian pushed a key on the computer, calling up today's date. "Oh, my God," he whispered. "No wonder I feel so rested."

"Arkcanian Brostra is a wonderful sedative," said a voice behind him, "without the side effects."

Julian shot a frown at Wescott. "I can't afford to sleep for a day and a half. I have responsibilities."

"Which your lovely nurse was able to handle just fine." Wescott smiled at Jabara.

The Bajoran returned the smile and left the two alone.

"I had the computer alert me when you left your quarters," the Ambassador informed him. "How do you feel?"

"Surprisingly, I feel pretty good," Julian said. "I suppose I did need the rest."

"That's not all you needed."

Julian sighed. "I know. Thanks, Valerian." He switched off the monitor and faced the older man. "Look, about the things I said last...I mean, night before last..."

Wescott smiled. "Don't worry, Julian. I gave you my oath of silence just as I gave it to your father years ago. I take my word very seriously."

Julian's gratitude shone in his eyes. "I'm just not ready to let anyone else in on this."

"I wish you would reconsider, Julian. You have many friends here and they are concerned about you. You should trust them enough to confide in them. They can help you."

For an instant, anger flashed through Julian. He quickly suppressed it, not wanting anything to spoil his good mood. "I don't need help, Wescott. I have everything under control. I think I can put this behind me now. I managed to sleep thirty-five hours straight through with no nightmares."

"That was the effect of two bottles of Arkcanian Brostra, my boy. Don't let it fool you into thinking everything is going to be fine now."

"I have it under control," Julian repeated firmly.

"I hope you're right," Wescott said.

Julian ignored the note of doubt in the man's voice and smiled. "Don't worry about me, Valerian. I'll be fine."

Julian regained consciousness slowly, against his will. He fought against awareness, instinctively knowing it would bring with it unbearable pain. It came anyhow; with it came the memories. Jessica was gone! They had taken her and he had been powerless to stop them. She had died waiting for him to rescue her. He choked back a sob.

A cool hand touched his forehead. Carefully, he opened his eyes, blinking back tears until he could focus on the face above his.

"Don't move, Julian," Rava whispered. "Let them think you are sleeping."

He turned his head slightly to the side and was met by a wave of dizziness. When his vision again cleared he saw that Thurl and the woman soldier were standing not far away. He couldn't hear the discussion, but it looked as though they were arguing. Several more soldiers stood a few steps behind them.

Julian struggled to sit up, but a stab of pain in his side and Rava's hand stopped him.

"Please," her soft voice pleaded, "he almost killed you once. He might come back if he sees you're awake."

Julian relented and lay still. He closed his eyes, only to jerk them back open again when the image of Jessica flashed there. He bit back a moan. Trying to occupy his thoughts, he turned to watch the soldiers. "What's going on?" He was surprised at how weak he sounded.

When Rava didn't answer, he turned his head to look at her. Tears were streaming down her delicate face. Julian knew instantly that something horrible had happened. Clamping a hand to his throbbing side, he pulled himself into a sitting position. Trying to ignore the pain and the difficulty breathing, he looked around.

"Where is Proctor?" NO! He couldn't be dead! He had heard the woman tell Thurl to leave Proctor and Rava alone. "Where is he?"

"He's dead," Rava said through her tears. "I think it was an accident. That's why they are fighting."

Julian reached up to wipe at his eyes, wincing as he touched tender skin. His hand came away sticky. When he looked he was surprised to see blood. He remembered, as he had lost consciousness, someone - Thurl? - kicking him, over and over. That explained the pain in his face and side, the difficulty breathing.

"Tell me what happened, Rava!" he demanded.

The child responded to the seriousness of his tone. "When they took Jessica and that man was hurting you, Proctor tried to stop him but he couldn't." Her voice caught. "They killed Jessica, Julian."

Julian closed his eyes. Uncontrollable terror lay just below the surface and he fought to hold it in.

Rava continued. "The man hit Proctor. He fell and hit his head, I think. Everybody was so angry. They were all yelling at the man and he was yelling back." She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. "I thought for a minute they were going to kill us all. That big man started kicking you again. That man," she pointed to a short, stocky man standing against the far wall, watching his feuding colleagues, "pulled you away from him and brought you over here. I thought you were going to die, too." She broke off with a whimper.

Julian put his arm around the girl and pulled her close, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her everything would be all right. He had said those words to Jessie and it had been a lie.

He looked around at the other children; there were only seven left. Julian closed his eyes in pain. Seven, out of fourteen. With Proctor gone, he was the oldest left; they would look to him for strength. He swallowed painfully. Trouble was, right now, he didn't feel very strong.

"I've been told you're receiving visitors, now." Dax spoke cautiously to Julian's back as he leaned over a data padd.

Julian looked up, surprised to see the Trill. An expression of embarrassment filled his dark eyes. "Jadzia, I'm glad you're here." He switched off the padd and turned to face her. "Look, about the other night..."

Dax held up her hand to stop him. "It's not necessary, Julian. I know you've been under some kind of stress lately. Besides, I said some unkind things myself."

"Nothing I didn't deserve. I don't know what came over me." He ran a hand through his curly hair. "There's no excuse for my behavior."

"Julian," Dax began hesitantly, "I know something has been bothering you. Please don't deny it. I just wish you would trust me enough to confide in me; or if not me then O'Brien or Benjamin."

Surprisingly, Julian smiled. "Why not Kira?"

Dax returned the smile, relieved that he had not reacted as he had a few nights before when she had made the same suggestion. "Somehow, I can't see you confiding in Kira, however, if that's what it would take..." She left the suggestion unfinished.

Julian actually laughed at that. "Do you suppose she would set aside a few hours for some intimate conversation?"

"You laugh, but to be truthful, Julian, Kira has been as worried about you as the rest of us."

Julian sobered. "I'm sorry."

"About making us worry or because you still don't want to talk about it?"

"Both," he admitted with a sigh. "I won't insult your intelligence by denying that there has something going on. I'm sorry that it got so out of hand that I took it out on the rest of you. But I can't talk about it; I don't want to."

Dax frowned. How could she argue with that excuse?

She didn't even try. "If you change your mind, I want you to know that I'm here."

Julian put his hand on her arm. "Thanks, Jadzia. That means a lot."

CHAPTER 7

Sisko surveyed his senior officers with a paternal smile. All were decked out in dress uniforms and, though decidedly uncomfortable in the strictly-for-show garments, they were prepared for the momentary arrival of the Isphesnian delegation. Sisko glanced behind him and down the corridor. Security was at full attention and ready.

"Docking procedures complete," informed the toneless voice of the station computer.

The inner airlock clicked, signaling the delegates impending disembarkment. After a short moment the outer airlock rolled aside and four Isphesnians stepped out, their dark eyes quickly surveying the surroundings. Security, Sisko immediately recognized.

Sisko stepped forward. "Welcome to Deep Space Nine. I am Captain Benjamin Sisko."

One of the Isphesnian men extended his hand in the traditional human greeting. "Thank you, Captain Sisko. I am Bal Thoro, security advisor."

Sisko accepted the handshake, surprised at the gesture. He indicated Odo, standing to his left. "This is Constable Odo, Chief of Security for this station. He is charge of the security for the summit."

Thoro nodded in Odo's direction acknowledging the introduction. "Are you prepared to receive the delegation, Constable Odo?"

The shapeshifter stepped forward. "We have secured the immediate area and the corridors between here and the delegation's quarters as requested."

Thoro nodded in satisfaction. With one last glance around the area, Thoro turned and nodded to one of the Isphesnians beside him. The man spoke softly into a hand-held communicator. Within seconds, a young woman exited the ship through the airlock, followed closely by a much older man. A flash of anger mixed with surprise silenced the greeting that had been ready on Sisko's lips. There was no mistaking who the young woman was. It was evident in both her attire and in the regal way in which she presented herself. Why had he not been informed that the Empress herself would be conducting the peace talks? It would have certainly made a huge difference in the preparations, not to mention security.

He quickly masked the shock on his face and stepped forward. "Empress Rava, I presume." He bowed slightly. "I am Captain Benjamin Sisko. Welcome to Deep Space Nine."

The Empress returned the bow. "A sincere pleasure, Captain Sisko." She turned to the man beside her. "This is Prime Minister Corses Varthen. He will be assisting me in the negotiations."

Sisko acknowledged the introduction, noticing the flicker of irritation in the man's eyes at the Empress' words. Sisko turned back to the Empress, shooting a look of daggers at Wescott in the process. "We were not informed that you were heading the Isphesnian delegation."

Rava smiled radiantly. "I must apologize for keeping you in the dark, Captain. I insisted that my involvement be kept a surprise."

Sisko's eyebrows crawled up his forehead. A surprise for whom?

"Ambassador Wescott," Rava said taking the man's hands. "It is good to see you again."

"You are as lovely as ever, Empress," Wescott said with a bow.

"Must you be so formal? I'm still the same impudent little Rava, only bigger now." The Empress' eyes danced with mischief. "Do you remember Prime Minister Varthen?"

"Of course," Wescott said, extending his hand, palm down before him. The Prime Minister placed his own hand on top of it in the Isphesnian equivalent of a handshake. "How are you, Corses?"

The short, balding man smiled. "Old and tired, my friend. You look as though life has been kind."

Before Wescott could respond, the Empress' eyes moved past his shoulder to the DS9 officers assembled behind him.

Sisko turned to introduce his staff but was stopped short by the expression on Doctor Bashir's face. He was staring at the young woman in what could only be recognition and shock.

"Rava?!" The doctor's voice was as incredulous as his expression.

The Empress moved forward quickly to envelope the young man in a hug. "Julian, I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see you." She stepped back and surveyed him. "I would say you look great, but we both know that would be a lie." She frowned. "Are you well?"

Julian smiled broadly, ignoring the question and, Sisko noted, for the first time is days the haunted look in his eyes was erased. "I hadn't a clue you were planning to personally conduct the talks. I wish you had sent word you were coming."

"I wanted to surprise you."

Sisko glanced at the rest of his staff. Their faces proved they were as startled as he was. O'Brien was staring open-mouthed at the pair. Dax was watching in barely restrained amazement. Kira...Sisko bit back a chuckle at her expression. Even Odo seemed surprised.

"You knew I was here?" Julian asked.

"Of course! Why do you think I insisted the talks be held here? I have longed to see you again and I know you will never return to Isphesne."

Sisko heard the sad note in Rava's voice and saw the shadow that passed across Julian's features.

Rava must have noticed the shadows, too. She took Julian's hands in hers and gazed with compassion into his eyes. "I can see that I have awakened the nightmares, Julian. I was afraid that I would."

Julian visibly gathered himself and smiled. "Nothing I can't handle."

Rava reached up and placed a gentle kiss on the young man's cheek. "None the less, I apologize for reopening old wounds, but I desperately need your support right now. I know you are the only person alive that can understand just how hard this is going to be for me."

"If I had known that you needed me, Rava, I would have come to Isphesne."

Sisko had no idea to what the young people referred, but he could tell that the statement had been difficult for Julian to make. He could also see that it meant a great deal to the Empress.

She turned back to Sisko, still holding Julian's hands. "Forgive me, Captain. I believe you were about to introduce your staff."

Sisko smiled, a somewhat confused look still on his face. "I had no idea that you and Doctor Bashir knew one another."

"You didn't mention it, Julian?" She glanced at him for a short moment. "No, I guess you wouldn't." Turning back to Sisko, she said, "It was a long time ago, another lifetime, perhaps."

Julian took a deep breath, obviously reluctant to talk about it, but seeming to know an explanation was required. "My father was assigned to Isphesne when I was a child. Rava and I attended school together for a short time."

Sisko knew there was more to the story than that but now was not the time to press for details. "Empress Rava, may I present my staff..." He quickly ran through the introductions, then addressed the Empress and her party. "I'm sure you must be tired after your long journey. Perhaps, after you are settled and rested, we can discuss your agenda."

Rava smiled tiredly. "You are very perceptive, Captain Sisko. I am exhausted. Perhaps, if you could spare Julian, he could escort me to my quarters."

"Of course," Sisko agreed reluctantly. He wanted to talk to the doctor himself, but that could wait for a short while. Addressing the young man, he said, "Just remember, Doctor Bashir, there is a staff meeting at 1100 hours."

Julian nodded acknowledgment and took Rava's arm. The Empress hooked her other arm in Wescott's and let the men lead her down the corridor toward the habitat ring. They were followed by Prime Minister Varthen, Rava's attendants and the security detail from both Isphesne and Starfleet.

Sisko watched until the contingent disappeared around a bend in the corridor leaving him alone with the remainder of his staff. "Well!" he said, releasing the sigh he had been suppressing.

"Why didn't he tell us he had ties to the Empress?" Kira exploded.

"I would say," said Dax, "judging by what she said and his reaction, that it involves bad memories."

"That's no excuse," Sisko barked. "He knew we were trying to assemble information that would help us prepare for the talks. He should have volunteered what he knew."

"Which is obviously a lot," Kira observed.

"Maybe not," O'Brien said. "He did say he was just a child when he was on Isphesne."

"Well," Sisko said again. He pulled absently at the hem of his dress uniform. "I guess we'll find out just what he does know at 1100 hours."

Dax checked the time. 1108. Julian was late and Benjamin wasn't very happy about it. She glanced at the Captain from the corner of her eye. He was pacing the length of the ward room. She knew he was anxious to question the doctor and she also suspected Julian was just as anxious to avoid those questions.

Wescott had said he left Julian at the Empress' quarters over an hour ago. Dax stole a glance at the Ambassador. He certainly looked pleased about something.

Slowly, she looked down the table at the faces of each officer mutely waiting for the meeting to begin. They were beyond speculating as to Julian's relationship with Empress Rava and had settled down to quietly wait for the man in question.

For several more minutes, Sisko paced and they waited. At last, the door slid aside and Julian entered. Dax studied him with concern as he took his seat at the table. He seemed older somehow than he had just a few short hours ago. His brown eyes were dark and apprehensive.

"I'm glad you were able to fit us into your schedule, Doctor," Sisko said, taking his seat.

"I'm sorry, sir," Julian said. "I was delayed."

Dax frowned. His lack of elaboration didn't bode well for the remainder of the meeting. A quick look at Sisko told her he had come to the same conclusion. She caught the Captain's eye, silently pleading with him to go easy with the inquisition. If he got the message, he gave no indication.

Without preamble, Sisko began. "Why didn't you mention your ties to Empress Rava?"

Julian met Sisko's eyes, trying to hide the emotions playing on his face, emotions Dax couldn't put a name to. "It was a very long time ago. I was just a child."

Sisko leaned back and scrutinized the younger man. "You should have mentioned that you lived on Isphesne as soon as you realized the information was relevant to our security efforts for the talks."

"I was barely ten years old, Captain. I knew nothing of the political workings around me."

Wescott opened his mouth to say something, but evidently changed his mind. He quickly shut it again. Dax remembered the Ambassador's earlier words. The decision to talk had to be Julian's.

"Perhaps you could enlighten us about your association with the Empress," Sisko suggested firmly.

Julian hesitated. "Rava and I attended school together. We were very close friends. Just before the war broke out my father was recalled to Earth. Rava and I stayed in touch for a while but I haven't seen her in years."

"The Empress said you would never return to Isphesne," Odo said. "Does that have anything to do with the terrorist attack that started the war?"

Dax winced at the pain that clouded Julian's eyes. "There were some unpleasant memories," he said softly.

"If you know something about the terrorist attack," Sisko pursued, "it would be helpful to security to have that information."

"I can't tell you anything that would be useful," Julian stated tonelessly.

"Why do I have the feeling that you know more than you are saying?" Sisko folded his arms across his chest. A sure sign to Dax's experienced eye that he was frustrated.

Julian lifted his head to meet Sisko's intense gaze.

"Is there anything you can tell us?" Sisko was trying hard to remain calm.

Julian dropped his eyes, studying his folded hands on the table. Slowly, he shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing I can say."

"Then, I see no point in continuing this meeting, Doctor Bashir." The captain's tone effectively dismissed the young man.

Julian glanced up in mild surprise at the anger in Sisko's voice, then rose and left the room.

Sisko sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair. Dax could see he was trying to get his temper under control.

Wescott spoke into the uneasy silence. "What he could tell you, Benjamin, would make very little difference in your security measures."

"I would like to have the chance to judge that for myself."

"I thought for a minute," Dax said, "that he was going to talk about it."

Sisko shook his head. "He never had any intentions of saying anything."

"I think Rava may hold the key to unlocking Julian's lips," Wescott said hopefully. "She will be able to help him in a way that none of us can."

Dax shot the Ambassador a hard look, unsure exactly what emotion motivated it.

Wescott must have noticed. He said, "Julian and Rava share a bond of personal tragedy. Rava understands what he is feeling because she has faced the same demons."

"Does this have something to do with the terrorist attack that precipitated the war?" Odo asked.

"The attack hit Julian very hard and very personally," Wescott explained. "That's all I can tell you."

"Many Bajorans have survived horrors that you couldn't begin to imagine," Kira said derisively. "They manage to put the memories behind them, go on with their lives."

"Have they, Major Kira? Can you truthfully say they have put all of the pain and horror they faced behind them?"

Kira dropped her eyes. "No, I can't truthfully say that," she admitted softly. "It just seems like that on the outside. Inside, the pain remains."

"Bajorans don't hold a patent on horror. Julian's pain is just as real and just as brutal."

For once, Kira was silent. Remembering her own horrors, Dax wondered, or, perhaps, wondering at Julian's?

"We will have to make changes in the security arrangements to accommodate the Empress," Odo announced into the silence. "If I had known sooner that she was coming, my team and I could have been better prepared."

"Rava insisted that her participation be kept a surprise," Wescott explained. "My office was under orders to honor that request."

"It seems that you are very good at keeping secrets," Sisko said tonelessly. "Is there anything else we should know?"

Wescott smiled and shook his head.

Sisko turned to Odo. "Coordinate your security measures with the Isphesnian security. They should be more forthcoming. After all, they have the same priority - keeping the Empress safe." He turned to the other officers. "The Colonial delegation is due to arrive at 1300 hours. I want everyone there." He smiled ruefully. "Full dress uniforms. Dismissed."

Rava handed Julian another cup of the tea and sat down beside him. She took a sip of her own and smiled. "This really is good. What did you call it again?"

"Tarkalian tea. It is my favorite."

Rava sipped at her tea, watching Julian surreptitiously over the top of her cup. He looked so sad, she thought dolefully. He tried so hard to hide it but she could see it. She smiled inwardly. Julian had never been able to hide his emotions from her.

She thought back over the years they had known one another. After the attack, her father had sent her to Earth, far away from Isphesne and all of its dangers. It had been so hard, being alone on a strange world. Of course, there had been a multitude of servants, attendants, and guards. She was never really alone. But, somehow it wasn't the same. She hadn't had anyone to share her grief with - until Julian had come back to Earth.

It had been so comforting to have someone to talk to that understood her grief and her loneliness. They had spent hours on end simply talking. Or, at least, she had. Julian was a wonderful listener, but after a while he had stopped talking about anything pertaining to the attack or Jessica.

They had remained close until the day Julian had announced he was entering medical school. Slowly the visits had tapered off, eventually stopping altogether.

She had remained on Earth until her father had sent for her just before his death.

Now, here they were, together again and it was as if no time had passed between the meetings. She smiled at the top of his head. It felt so comfortable, so right to be with him. Even after all these years.

Julian looked up and caught her watching him. He smiled. It was so dazzling it made her blush. He was so handsome! If only she could think of him as something other than a brother. She returned the smile ruefully.

"A penny for your thoughts," she offered.

Julian laughed softly. "They haven't made pennies in centuries."

"It's the thought that counts," Rava quipped.

"Are you practicing your clichés tonight?"

"If the shoe fits...No, wait, that doesn't fit." She frowned. "A rolling stone...No...Oh, well. I give up. Why don't you just tell me what's on your mind?"

Julian turned away. "Let's not dredge up all these old memories, Rava. Let's just enjoy seeing one another again."

Rava nodded and refilled their cups. "Okay, so, what can we safely talk about? Pick a subject."

Julian accepted the tea and leaned back on the couch. "How about your role in the peace negotiations? It's hard to picture you as a diplomat." He smiled. "The Rava I remember was too quick to speak her mind, regardless of the consequences."

"Don't I know it!" She laughed. "Controlling my tongue is one of the hardest parts of the job." She sobered suddenly. "It's not something I want to do. It's not something I am suppose to do. This job should be Proctor's. He was a born leader."

Julian was silent for a minute. Then, "If Proctor was here, there might not have been a need for the talks."

"I don't know," she said seriously. "The death of all those children was the catalyst for the war, but the tensions were already there. Talks weren't going well. I think my father was leaning toward a peaceful settlement until Proctor's murder, but there were many in the Parliament that staunchly refused to discuss any type of concessions to the Colonies."

They were silent for a moment.

"My father was determined to have the war. He considered it punishment for the Colonists taking his son. He couldn't see that he was punishing his own people, too. How many countless thousands have died needlessly?"

"You're just as de