He barely recognized her. Benjamin Sisko drew in a hard breath as he entered the clean, white cell of the woman he had once hated with every drop of blood in his body. No one could change that much in a year.
Alixus sat on the floor in the far corner of the tiny room, less human than the Andorian beside him, her thin knees pulled up to her chin as she stared blankly at the spotless wall. Her skin was grayish white except for the choker of fading purple bruises around her neck, a far cry from the robust woman he remembered working in the fields outside of the colony. The stark white shift she wore only emphasized the wasting her body had suffered in confinement. Her soft auburn hair was cut to a short stubble which stood out brazenly in all directions; those piercing blue eyes, once so demanding, so haughty and defiant, now lit dully on the sterile nothingness of this technical hell to which she'd been sentenced.
The room was bare except for a futon bolted to the floor. There was nothing personal here, nothing in sight that even the most desperate and creative person could use as a weapon of self-destruction; even her hair had been taken from her, for fear her neck would not know the difference between a braid and a noose.
"Good afternoon, Alixus," Dr. Breel'anso said in a soft, even voice. "You have a visitor."
The only acknowledgement from the ghost in the corner was to pull tightly on her wrists, lock her arms around her knees, and begin slowly rocking back and forth. Sisko noticed a flat metallic disk attached to the back of her gown, just between the shoulder blades. It was a lock.
"Alixus, Benjamin is here to see you," the doctor continued. "You remember Benjamin, don't you?" She nodded to Sisko to say something.
The commander swallowed hard and tried to smile. "Hello, Alixus," he said softly.
Alixus whirled suddenly to face him, her eyes flaming with recognition. Despite himself, Sisko took a step backwards.
Breel'anso put a hand on his arm to steady him. "Do you remember asking for Benjamin, Alixus?"
"Leave us alone," she croaked. When the doctor made no move to leave, Alixus leaned forward until she was kneeling, sitting on her heels. "Leave us, please," she whispered.
Sisko recognized the catch in her voice, a slight breath between the consonant and vowel sounds of certain words. Not fear or hesitation, just the way Alixus talked. The sense of deja vu sent a chill down his spine.
"Alixus, you know the--"
"Please. I need to talk to him. Alone."
The Andorian turned to Sisko, who nodded. The anger and hatred inside of him had melted into pity. This was not the woman who had almost destroyed him over a year ago; this transparent wisp of a being could no more hurt him than a cold wind in January. "It's alright, Doctor."
Breel'anso paused to consider this, then turned to Alixus. "You will be monitored." As she unlocked the door, she whispered to Sisko, "I'll be right outside." Then the door shut behind her.
There was a long silence as the two former adversaries pondered each other. Sisko had no idea what was going on in Alixus's mind; he wasn't even sure what was going on in his own. He lowered himself to his knees, hoping it would somehow even the balance, restore a little of the dignity she'd once held in such abundance. "Alixus." Nothing more, just her name.
She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "My son is dead."
"I know." Sisko searched for a word, a phrase, anything he could say to sum up the loss he knew she felt. What could he say? "I'm sorry."
"I want you to return him to our home in the Orellius system." She held up her hand before Sisko could respond. "I want him buried there, in the forest where he and Joseph found you. His body is in stasis." Despite the madness, her lips remembered to curl in distaste around the word. Alixus shook herself, driving her mind back to the matter at hand. "It's in stasis; they told me that. They told me they were keeping his body in stasis until I gave consent; and I'm giving you consent to return his body home."
The words came out in a rush, a blur of syllables Sisko's mind had to chase to follow. She stared at him like a hungry child begging for food; slowly, against his better judgement, Sisko nodded. There was an audible sigh as the breath left Alixus's chest.
"Thank you, Benjamin."
"It's the least I can do."
In one smooth movement, she leaned forward onto her hands, closing the space between her and Sisko. There was a sudden urgency in her voice, a cajoling desperation. "It's not all you can do," she rasped.
"What..." Sisko wondered how much of this Dr. Breel'anso was getting over her monitor. He assumed the Andorian was regarding this with the utmost of psychiatric fascination. After so long in silence, what did the suicidal mime have to say? "What did you have in mind?" he asked cautiously.
"Take me with you."
"What?"
"Take me with you, back home." She was smiling now, an eery sight on a face so full of tragedy. "A bereavement leave, so that I can attend the funeral."
"Alixus, you and your son tried to escape from a prison facility just three weeks ago."
"That long?" she murmured, then paused, looking away slightly, unable to meet his gaze. "It was...a mistake. I know that." She returned her gaze to him, a flash of the old intensity lighting in her eyes. "Please, Ben, you can do it. You can convince them to let me go. I can't bear the thought of Vinod spending eternity in some mausoleum on an overcrowded planet with no fresh air and sunlight."
"And what is to keep you from trying to escape once you've reached Orellius?" Sisko shook his head. "You know that planet better than we do, and there's no guaranteeing the colonists would help us if you did escape. I doubt I could convince your doctors that you wouldn't try to reclaim to reclaim the colony once there."
Alixus's expression darkened. "There's nothing left to reclaim," she hissed. "Your Federation and its humanitarian efforts saw to that." She stopped, catching herself. "I'm sorry. That isn't your fault. Ben, please. I know I can never return to what was; just let me find a little place, a little patch of reality to give to my son before it's all changed."
"Alixus..."
"Ben, everything I did, I did for the community. I take responsibility for that; I always have." She stopped, her breath coming in hard gasps. "I've lost my son. I've lost my home. I've lost my freedom." She bowed her head, body sagging as she sat back on her legs once more. The look she gave him was one of defeat, of subdued resignation. "I've lost everything, Ben. Where's your humanitarianism now?"
This time, Sisko had nothing to say.
Dax leaned back in the command chair. "Defiant to Starbase 93. This is Lieutenant Dax, requesting security clearance."
"Starbase 93 to Defiant. Please stand by for Commander Sisko."
In a moment, Ben Sisko's handsome face filled the bridge's main viewscreen. "Old Man," he boomed, although it seemed to Dax a bit forced. "I assume the mission was a success."
"You could say that," she said. "And your...mission?" she prompted.
Sisko took a deep breath, then said, "About that. You'd better tell Security to put out fresh linens in the hospitality suite." There was a long pause. "We're going to have a guest aboard."
Dax turned to Bashir, who shrugged and said nothing. Then she turned back to the larger-than-life image of her commanding officer. "Make that two."
"Technically, I have full custody until she's safely returned to Starbase 93," Sisko said as he faced his officers around the table in the Defiant's conference room. "Frankly, it isn't a responsibility I wanted or will enjoy. We will stop to refuel on DS9, get her to the Orellius system for the funeral, and then get her back to Starbase 93 as soon as possible."
"I've read through Dr. Breel'anso's list of her medications," Bashir said, shaking his head. "We've got a very unhappy woman on our hands."
O'Brien grunted. "She was unhappy before the medication, Doc. Only now, she has no one to turn that unhappiness on but herself."
Dax and Bashir exchanged glances. Neither had been with the landing party Alixus held hostage, but both knew enough about the situation to avoid venturing a comment. Dax cleared her throat and changed the subject. "As for our other guest..."
"Yes," Sisko said, a little too eagerly. "Any luck with the investigation?"
"Her readings are quite unlike any being we've seen." Bashir shrugged. "She's in some sort of self-imposed hibernation, but she seems to be coming out of it slowly."
"We tested the metal fragments found in her home," Dax supplied. "They are obviously from a ship, but they date at over two hundred years old."
"Could this be a descendant of a group of crash survivors?" O'Brien asked.
"Probably not. We found this among her things," Dax said as placed a portable holo-projector on the table. She punched in a command, and a holographic image of a tall bird-like humanoid female appeared on the table before them. "We're not exactly sure how long ago this was made, or how long she has been in the dormant stage. We sent a copy of the message to Starfleet along with the data from ZM Prime."
At a single touch from Dax, the being began to move, a sagging, tired motion in stark contrast to her apparent grace. Her voice came out clear and wistful. "I am Tsirrku of Alezai, former emissary for the Dominion, now in exile on this planet. I do not know if any sentient being shall ever hear this message; nor do I know if anyone will care."
She paused, gathering her strength. "When the Founders sent the Jem'Hadar to slaughter my people, my pilot and I sought refuge both within and outside the Dominion. But no one would have us. No one would defy the Dominion for the sake of two weary travelers. After a difficult passage through a wormhole some distance from here, we managed to stagger to this world. Unfortunately, our ship was damaged beyond our ability to repair it." She sighed heavily. "I have lived here with my partner, Wls'tinoth Lante of the planet Wirra, for almost forty cycles. I am not even certain of the name of this planet. One subcycle ago, Lante was killed during a quake. I cannot exist for much longer without him. Perhaps someone will find me; someone who does not fear the Dominion."
She lowered her eyes sadly. "It does not matter. The Alezai have been betrayed by the Dominion. I do not know if any of my kind still exist; I only wish for you to know, whoever you may be, that Tsirrku of Alezai renounces the Founders." The melodic voice took on a dark vehemence. "Tsirrku of Alezai renounces the Dominion." She paused for a long moment, then said sadly, "Tsirrku of Alezai wishes you peace, although...such a thing may no longer exist."
"The message ended there," Bashir said.
"Do we have any record of a race known as the Alezai?" Sisko asked.
"Nothing." Dax turned off the projection. "But if they are former emissaries of the Founders, they may be, as the Vulcans say, klee fa tu. Unmentionables."
Sisko breathed hard, leaning heavily on his hands. He wasn't sure what to do with another refugee from society. "How is she doing?" Sisko asked the doctor as the image flickered out of sight.
"I estimate another day or two before she's strong enough to survive without the cocoon."
"And then what do we do with her?" O'Brien asked. Only, no one had a ready answer.
Alixus felt the sob of the ship below her. It invaded her sleep, turning her inward, pressing into her dreams.
She was in the box, solitary confinement. Alixus pressed back against the hot metal, sweat dripping from her hair, between her breasts, under her arms. Nothing could possibly be this hot. How long had it been? An hour? A day? God, Joseph! Let me out. You've forgotten me...it's on fire. The colony is on fire! The smoke was burning her lungs, her throat. Joseph, open the door. Don't leave me here. I can help! Don't leave me here. Don't let me die alone here. Joseph, please...
It was black now. Alixus didn't feel the press of Bashir's hypo against her throat as she fell back into the darkness of her memories. She didn't feel his hands as he lifted her onto the gurney and brought her into Sickbay. She didn't feel the pain in her chest as her breathing finally, mercifully, began to slow again.
"She was throwing herself against the containment field when Security alerted me," Bashir said as he guided Sisko through the Defiant's tiny sickbay.
"Dr. Breel'anso mentioned that Alixus had her..." Sisko paused as he caught sight of the unconscious prisoner, sleeping fitfully amidst the restraints which bound her arms, legs, and torso to the bed. "...not-so-good days." Pointing to the restraints, he added, "Are those really necessary?"
Bashir nodded. "Just to be on the safe side. Another few swipes at that containment field, and she wouldn't have needed anything anymore. I've adjusted the dosage on her medication; we shouldn't have anymore problems."
He turned to the sickbay's other patient, a large white object which rested awkwardly on the biobed. "Tsirrku, on the other hand, is showing amazing progress. Her readings began to improve the moment we brought her aboard."
The tough white casing recorded by the initial log entries had melted to an almost transparent gauze. Sisko was reminded of the holos he'd seen in biology class of third-trimester human fetuses, clutching at the watery world around them. He shifted uneasily. "Two days," he prompted as Bashir, seemingly lost in scientific curiosity, passed a tricorder over the Alezai.
"At the very most," the doctor chirped. "I can't understand it. She's completely self-contained; I haven't done a thing, yet she's making an astonishing recovery."
"Maybe it's the company," Sisko said stiffly.
Bashir looked up from his tricorder momentarily, a boyish smile on his face. "Maybe. Whatever the cause, this species has a remarkable capacity for self-preservation. I would like to beam them both directly to the infirmary on DS9 as soon as we get into transporter range."
Sisko shook his head. He's probably already writing the journal articles in his head, he thought as the young doctor continued to monitor the unusual patient. Sisko cleared his throat and said, "Very well, Doctor. Since you seem to have everything under control, I'll be on the bridge." With one more look around the room, he turned on his heels and left Bashir to his readings.
It was a cold grey place, the place to which her mind had taken her. Tsirrku reached out in all directions through the fog, through the icy mist which separated her from the other place, that which most beings considered reality. But for Tsirrku, there was only one reality, the hunger which gnawed at her mind and soul, the aching poverty inside her that demanded all of her attention. She had no concept of time, of the passing seasons. She had no idea how long she'd been in this place, waiting for death.
It was so far away and had to pass through so many layers to reach her, she hardly recognized it at first. But it was there--sentient contact--gentle, cautious, and curious. Tsirrku made no attempt to control her intake; her mind cut through the fog like a beacon, homing in on the precious feelings, feasting on them.
With nourishment, Tsirrku gradually became aware of the passing of time. She counted the moments between contacts, her mind seizing them with greedy anticipation as they began to come with greater frequently. At first, she could barely differentiate one being from another; as she became stronger, like a connoisseur, she began to note the nuances of each different blending of thoughts and emotions.
It was here that Tsirrku first felt her. She was as different from the others as fire was from stone, this Alixus, this being whose thoughts burned like lava, like acid, like a blade in the gut. Instinctively, Tsirrku tried to shield from the biting pain flooding her senses, but there was no pulling back. A starving being doesn't refuse food because of its bitterness, and Tsirrku's mind fed as hungrily on the pain as it had on the kindness.
Fury swirled around Alixus like a hurricane, pulling the Alezai in, flooding through her as the cocoon fell from her skin. Tsirrku pressed her body outward, stumbling in the blinding light on legs too weak to support her. She made her way to Alixus's side, buffeted by the winds of this woman's outrage.
There, in the eye of the storm, the anger was replaced by a dull, numbing grief--a world lost, a home, a family. Tsirrku dissolved into that grief willingly, Alixus's collarbone pressing into her cheek, her chest rising and falling beneath her, finally finding a home for her own feelings which had been trapped inside for so many cycles. The memories of two lifetimes intermixed as their minds linked. Alezai, Orellius. Worlds and families lost. It didn't matter whose.
Tsirrku pushed deeper into the human woman's mind. There, beyond the bitterness and anger and confusion, she found what she had been searching for--the eye within the eye, the core of her being. The true Alixus rested here, calm, self-assured, a far cry from the injured woman who tugged at the restraints in the outer reality. Here, it was peaceful and safe. To Tsirrku's delight, there were forests similar to those of her own world, lost so many cycles ago.
Alixus watched her, frightened but curious, as the Alezai began to sculpt. Simple at first, since it had been so long since she had done this. A shadow on the forest floor gradually took shape. Tsirrku laughed, a high trilling sound, as the shadow gathered form and substance. She herself became the sculpture, primordial wings unfolding from her back, lifting her from the forest floor before Alixus's amazed eyes.
She was beautiful, tall and graceful, her wings a delicate shade of sapphire as they spread, gleaming in the sunlight. Alixus's wonder only served to fuel the Alezai's movements; each gasp made her stronger, more defined. Finally, she took the Terran's hands, lifting her easily as her wings carried them through the air, towards the tree tops....
Tsirrku screamed in pain as she was ripped out of Alixus, out of the forest through the floods and fire back to the real world. She struggled against the hands pulling her, struggled against the interruption which threatened to destroy the tenuous bond she'd created. Somehow, as she rose through the levels of Alixus's mind, she managed to hold onto the thread which held them together. It was not enough, it was never enough....
"Dax, give me a hand." Julian Bashir crossed the small distance from door to biobed in moments. The readings on the monitor above Alixus's head fluctuated wildly as he wrested the Alezai away from the sleeping Terran. "Help me," he gasped as he wrapped a sheet around Tsirrku's shaking body.
Together, they managed to get the alien safely onto the biobed. "Julian," Dax whispered as the doctor turned to examine Alixus. "Look."
Bashir followed Dax's gaze up the long line of Tsirrku's body. There, as she lay fitfully on the biobed, he saw what had startled Dax. Tsirrku's delicate face was an almost perfect replica of Alixus's. The Terran's expression, her features, her very emotions were superimposed with uncanny clarity on the Alezai's face.
Alixus rested peacefully on the other bed, serenity softening her sharp features until she was almost...almost lovely. A quick look at Dax only got him a curious shrug. Bashir stared down at the enigmatic alien. "Tsirrku, we have a lot to talk about," he informed her quietly as she fell into a dark, troubled sleep.
Benjamin Sisko sat back in the command chair as the familiar curves of Deep Space Nine gradually took shape in the main viewer of the Defiant. He tried to remember just exactly when the decrepit old Cardassian station had become home to him. After the sterile oppression of Starbase 93, the decrepit old station had the aesthetic pull of a Michelangelo or a Botticelli.
"Inform Dr. Bashir that we have reached transporter range, then open a hailing frequency, ensign," he boomed with a more enthusiasm than he had felt for days.
"Hailing frequency open. Major Kira, sir."
Sisko carefully schooled his expression as the Bajoran appeared on the screen before him. With Bajorans--this Bajoran in particular--it was best to maintain a neutral expression until sure of their emotional status. "Major," he began.
One look at Kira told him he'd been right not to smile. The first officer wore the tightly-held expression which had come to symbolize trouble in Sisko's mind. The false, too wide smile on her lips worried him even more. Kira smiling was scary enough; the slightly fanatic countenance she wore now could only mean one thing. "Commander," she said too quickly. "Welcome home."
There was an old joke in Starfleet about the Vulcan who told an overeager ensign that smells could not travel through the vacuum of space. Sisko knew, as all good 'Fleet officers knew, that smell did indeed travel through space; he could smell trouble even from this distance. "It's good to be back," he ventured.
"We have company," the Bajoran continued through clenched teeth.
Sisko racked his brain, trying to think of who could possibly annoy Kira that much. A list of galactic proportions formed in his mind, starting with Vedek Winn, continuing through the Grand Nagus, and winding all the way through to Ambassador Lwaxana Troi of Betazed.
Kira narrowed it down for him. "Admiral Necheyev arrived this morning; she wants to... meet the alien found on ZM Prime as soon as possible."
Heaving a sigh, Sisko nodded his head in sympathy. Twelve hours with the good admiral would tax the patience of a saint; Kira Nerys was definitely not a saint. "Tell her I will give her a full briefing at seventeen hundred hours."
The Bajoran gave him a half-grin, genuine this time. Sisko didn't blame her. Necheyev was his problem now.
As if he didn't already have enough.
Alixus woke quietly. So quietly, in fact, that Bashir didn't notice until she spoke.
"Are you a doctor?" she asked.
He whirled on his heels, startled. The Terran woman tugged slightly at the restraints, but didn't struggle.
"Yes. I'm Dr. Bashir." Bashir crossed the short distance to her side.
A small sigh escaped her as she relaxed back onto the biobed. "I hate these things."
"Restraints?"
"Biobeds." She rolled her head slightly from side to side, loosening her neck and shoulders. "A machine can never take the place of a human hand when it comes to medicine."
Bashir raised his eyebrows, then smiled warmly. "I always thought so, anyway," he agreed. He reached for a scanner, then thought better of it, laying his hand on her shoulder. "How do you feel?" he asked.
There was a long silence as Alixus considered the question. "Better," she finally decided.
"Good." The doctor felt her forehead, then lifted her thin wrist, taking her pulse manually. Her appreciative expression was not lost on him. "Your color is much better," he added. He didn't mention that, when he'd first seen her, she'd been nothing more than a walking corpse, a blank hollow shell of a woman waiting to die.
"Finally, a real doctor," she laughed. Her chest expanded with the intake of air, only to be halted by the restraints. She looked down at them with distaste.
Somehow, Bashir felt the need to apologize. "You were...quite upset. They were necessary," he added thinly.
"Of course," she agreed.
The solemnity of her voice surprised him. Everything about her negated what his own eyes had told him just hours before. Alixus seemed rational, lucid, even pleasant. Hardly a high risk for suicide. He felt himself warming to her even as he tried to figure out how he was going to tell her she had to return to the brig.
Alixus saved him the trouble. "I suppose I'm going to have to go back to my cell."
"Cell?" Where did she think she was? Darius Three? Starbase 93? "Well, you will have to spend a short time in Security before the runabout is ready."
"Runabout?"
"To take you to Orellius..." he said gently. "For your son's funeral."
There was a moment's hesitation, then she nodded sadly. "Of course. I remember. Ben Sisko..." Alixus sighed. "It's hard, you know."
"Hard?"
"To...separate my dreams from reality." She gazed earnestly into his eyes. "I never had that trouble before, not even on Darius."
Bashir rested his hand on hers. "You've been through quite a lot."
"I have the oddest dreams..." she proceeded in a soft voice, hardly noticing him as she drifted off into her mind's landscapes. "I dreamed I was on Orellius. I was deep in the forest, just north of the settlement." She blinked hard, a chagrined look brightening her grave expression. At Bashir's nod, she continued. "I dreamed I met an angel. She had silver feathers, and she carried me up, right through the trees. She went away, but...but not completely." Alixus blinked hard, remembering. "Now you must really think I'm crazy."
Bashir turned slowly to Tsirrku, who was still unconscious on the next biobed. "Not really."
Alixus twisted slightly to follow his gaze, gasping slightly when she saw the sleeping Alezai. "It's her," she whispered. Her eyes lit hard on Bashir, who suddenly wished he was somewhere else. "Who is she?" she demanded.
The doctor cleared his throat. "Her name is Tsir--"
"Tsirrku," Alixus said simultaneously.
"Er...yes. She's from a race called the Alezai. It seems she has some sort of telepathic abilities. She was near death when we found her four days ago. That's really all we know about her."
Alixus stared at the sleeping alien. "She was trying to help me," she said finally.
Bashir looked at the Terran woman. He didn't need even the crudest diagnostic instruments to know she was healthier and stronger than she'd been in months. "She did."