^And...here it comes.
Here we are, folks. Here is the big one, in which the remainder of Ezri's inner conflict is finally brought fully into the light. Note that it heavily refers to the events of the DS9 relaunch. So, without futher ado....
Star Trek: Aventine
A Rendezvous With Destiny
Scene 18
When Ezri awoke, the sun wasn’t even up. Must be the hard cot…or the temperature…or something.
She sat up. Spock was sitting on his own cot…strumming his lyre.
She smiled. “Good morning.”
Spock nodded in her direction. “Good morning.”
He was studying her again. She was not going to let him get away with it.
“All right, Spock. What is it?”
“Captain?”
“Don’t give me that. You keep staring at me. Am I really that…fascinating?”
“Ezri…I do not have to remind you of our previous conversation.”
Ezri frowned. “No…not at all.”
“Than you know that…the answer is ‘yes’.”
She chuckled, as she stood up. “Right…”
Spock watched her, as if studying her reaction. “Captain…you do realize that you are hurting yourself.”
Ezri blinked, fighting to keep from showing what she was feeling. “I…am?”
Spock nodded, as he set down his lyre. “You are. Each day you refuse to confront the pain within…makes it more difficult to face.”
Ezri frowned. I’m aware of that, Spock. I was a counselor…. Still,she remembered…something she got from the mindmeld…. “Is that something you learned from your brother?”
Spock looked off for a moment. “Perhaps. However…I am also speaking from experience. You recall your inquiries as to my…bond…which I had temporarily broken.”
Ezri nodded. “The bond with your mother.”
“Yes. And, Ezri…forgive my boldness…but you seem to have severed a bond yourself—”
Ezri shook her head. “Spock, please. I can’t talk about this.”
Spock said nothing…just stared.
Ezri tried to explain. “Understand…I want to, but…but I…”
Spock nodded. “You…are afraid that, regardless of my experiences…I could never fully understand.”
Ezri sighed, and turned away.
“Ezri…you always were too proud—”
Spock rose. “Ezri…you must allow me to help you. It is I who unveiled this conflict within you, and therefore, it is I who must assist you in your recovery.”
“Spock, you can’t understand—”
His voice turned firm. “Try me!”
Ezri whirled to face him. Her eyes narrowed in frustration. “All right, Spock. You know that speech of yours last night—all that talk about how great and noble I am?”
“Yes—I do.”
“Well…if you knew what it was, this ‘conflict’ of mine—the little thing I’ve been trying to talk to you about, but couldn’t—than maybe—”
“Ezri…I know what you have been trying to tell me.”
She froze. Her lip quivered. “You…do?”
“Logic…can offer no other conclusion.”
For a moment, Ezri considered telling him to drop it. She knew Spock would respect her wish. But…she also knew that, if she did…she would only be hurting herself.
You can do this, Ezri…you can go through this. It’s time.
She swallowed, and nodded for him to continue.
“Clearly…six years ago, you began a relationship—with Dr. Julian Bashir, of Deep Space Nine.”
Ezri’s heart skipped a beat, but she gathered her courage, and answered. “Yes.”
Spock paused, and his featured softened…as did his tone. “The two of you…were very much in love.”
Ezri nodded again. A tear came to her eye…and she spoke in a whisper. “Yes…”
“And…you came to sever that relationship, as the path you had chosen…led you apart.”
Ezri shook her head. “Spock…I…”
He frowned. “That is not…entirely accurate?”
Ezri turned away. “We’d…better sit down.”
They did so—right next to each other. She gathered her thoughts…willed herself to bring her feelings out…and began.
“Look…the trouble started a few months after the war ended. A rouge Jem’Hadar force attacked the station…and the Defiant was sent to stop them. I was forced to take command, and…I found myself relying on my memories of Dax’s past hosts. After it was all over, I began to…channel those memories, more and more. I came to realize that…I had within me…an opportunity—to do more than I had ever thought possible.”
Spock nodded. “That was when you transferred to command track.”
Ezri smiled. “I don’t remember going that far in the meld…”
“I was…guessing.”
She chuckled. “All right.” She grew serious again, “Anyway…around that time…I was…alone with Julian. Without thinking…I channeled Jadzia…and, as you can imagine…he was shocked.”
“Naturally.”
Ezri shook her head. “I became…defensive…accused him of refusing to accept me as I was. He stormed out. For a short time, we were strained, but…then, when he was attacked, and almost died…I realized that, no matter what…I still loved him. And after he recovered…we reconciled, right away.”
Spock nodded. “However…”
“However…it didn’t really end there, did it? I still explored my past hosts…still looked for ways to integrate them into my life. One time…when the Defiant was out on a three-month mission in the Gamma Quadrant…I wanted to lead an away team on a diplomatic mission, to help end a civil war.”
Ezri smiled ironically. “I told myself, ‘Oh, it’ll be simple. Lela Dax was a politician—Curzon was a diplomat. Of course I could do this.’”
She felt her smile vanish, as the next memory came. “But, Julian…became worried, and tried to get me to reconsider…and to not put my life in danger. I…got angry at him, and accused him of not respecting me—and what I could do.”
She sighed. “But that wasn’t it. It never was. He was just…worried…afraid that I was letting those memories control me…and they were. He had…tried to warn me…and I…I hated it!”
Ezri stopped, blinking away a tear. She had, for so long, denied this simple fact. To face it now was so painful…but…she knew she had no choice.
Spock asked, “Did you…reconcile then, as well?”
“We did—after the mission cut me down to size a bit. But…finally…he and I went to Trill, later that year—shortly after the parasite crisis. There was…a terrorist group that was causing trouble….”
Spock nodded. “That was when the moratorium on joining was ordered.”
“Right. I wanted to…well, to make a long story short…I wanted to get to the bottom of things. Julian was worried that…the risk would be too great…for me, and for Trill.” Ezri stiffened. “Guess what happened.”
Spock nodded again. “You brushed his warnings aside….”
“Yes…I did—over and over. And when it was all done—as we returned to the station afterwards…Julian and I talked…and when I pressed him, again, he admitted that…he was worried that—that he was becoming less important to me.”
Her mother’s words came to Ezri once again. “Ezri…you always were—”
Spock frowned. “Was his reasoning…valid?”
“I didn’t bother to think about it—not really. I found myself changing the subject—to Jadzia…my previous host. I brought up…the feelings he’d had for her.”
Ezri swallowed. She fought down her feelings, and continued, “I led myself—and him—to believe that he didn’t really love me—that it was Jadzia that he’d loved—and that I was just the next best thing.”
“I assume…that was not the truth.”
Ezri shook her head. “No…it wasn’t. But it was so convenient. And so…we told ourselves that we’d grown…farther and farther apart…and that we just weren’t right for each other, any more.”
There, she mused, I’ve said it. It’s done, now…isn’t it?
Spock’s frown deepened. “Ezri…there is more to this…is there not?”
Ezri froze for a moment. Was there more?
And then…the answer came to her, as she suddenly remembered—that fateful conversation with Joran, not so long ago…his accusations, his gloating, her denial….
She nodded. She brought her knees close to her chest, resting her arms on them. “Spock, it wasn’t until…recently…that, looking back, I realized what was really going on. It was…”
She closed her eyes. Let it out, Ezri…let it out.
“I…I had been so sure…that with Dax inside of me—with all the experience…all the knowledge…that I could do anything. And…whenever he showed concern about that—I saw him as a wall. I thought he was holding me back, but at the same time…I knew he wasn’t…not really. I knew he did all that…because he…he truly cared about me.” She fought a tear, as her lip quivered. “…because…he loved me….”
Spock said nothing.
Ezri shook her head. “And I…I drove him away for it. I hurt him, Spock. I was so addicted to those memories…that I hurt him, for daring to remind me of reality. I got mad at him. I tried to guilt him. I shoved him aside. I hurt him…” and she opened her eyes, and looked off, into the distance, “…because I wasn’t thinking. Because…I’m a Dax. Sometimes, I don’t think. Sometimes…I just…I just…”
She lowered her head, resting her eyes on her arm…and let the tears come, moistening her sleeve. She heard Spock, in a tone of compassion, finish what she had begun.
“You just…do.”
Ezri did not respond. She just sat there, shaking her head…as the tears continued to fall. Oh, Julian…Julian…what have I done to you? How can I ever…make it up to you…after all this? How can you ever forgive me? How can I…forgive myself?
She heard Spock’s voice…in a tone that spoke of full understanding.
“Ezri…is that why you refuse to trust yourself?”
She looked up at this. His question filled her heart, and her mind. Yes…it is, Spock. How many times did that smug little ego of mine…clash with him like that? How many times did he express his worry about…about what I would become, if I wasn’t careful?
How many times…did he turn out to be right?
“Spock…” Ezri managed to whisper, “Understand…I’ve accepted how much the symbiont is a part of me. I’ve…reached the balance I needed to. But…the worst part is…looking back, I was reaching that balance, then…and if I had stayed with him…if I had been patient, for just a little longer…those problems would have been over, and we would have…recovered. But I panicked. I acted too soon—and now…I have to live with that mistake.”
“Ezri…you are not infallible, any more than I am. Perhaps…in a sense, that unfortunate train of events assisted you…in rediscovering that fact. And indeed…perhaps that experience assisted in shaping you…into what you are, today.”
Ezri said nothing. Somehow…his words reminded her…of something she had once said. “Worf…we’re not gods…or prophets. We’re people. We make mistakes….”
Spock continued, “You know…that you cannot change the past. However…you can use your experience, and the lessons you have learned from it, to better prepare for the future. Perhaps…your loss has taught you to never take for granted…the things you have been given.”
Ezri nodded. “Yes…it did.”
“Then let me ask you this: Do you still believe…that you must ‘do the best you can’?”
She nodded again. “I do.”
She heard Spock lean forward. “And…Ezri…do you still love him?”
Ezri looked up. She had found herself silently asking that question many times, whenever her gaze fell on that little blue sculpture. And…the answer was always the same.
Another tear came to her eye, but it came with a smile. “Yes. And…I always will.”
And with that admission…Ezri Dax felt as if the last of her burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt as if…as if the confidence she had lost when the meld had broken…had now been restored within her.
She heard Spock’s reply. “Then…perhaps this is yet another opportunity…to ‘do the best you can’.”
Ezri sighed, and turned to him. “Spock…I know. And…when I finally realized what I had done, I made a promise to myself: that somehow…I would find a way to make it up to him.”
“Indeed. I assume, then, that you intend to fulfill that promise.”
She nodded. “I do. But…I just don’t know how.”
Spock looked off. “Perhaps, not, Captain. However…I feel confident that you will find a way.”
Ezri grinned. “You…‘feel’…?
Spock turned to her, and raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
Ezri laughed, and turned to see the sunrise.
Here we are, folks. Here is the big one, in which the remainder of Ezri's inner conflict is finally brought fully into the light. Note that it heavily refers to the events of the DS9 relaunch. So, without futher ado....
Star Trek: Aventine
A Rendezvous With Destiny
Scene 18
When Ezri awoke, the sun wasn’t even up. Must be the hard cot…or the temperature…or something.
She sat up. Spock was sitting on his own cot…strumming his lyre.
She smiled. “Good morning.”
Spock nodded in her direction. “Good morning.”
He was studying her again. She was not going to let him get away with it.
“All right, Spock. What is it?”
“Captain?”
“Don’t give me that. You keep staring at me. Am I really that…fascinating?”
“Ezri…I do not have to remind you of our previous conversation.”
Ezri frowned. “No…not at all.”
“Than you know that…the answer is ‘yes’.”
She chuckled, as she stood up. “Right…”
Spock watched her, as if studying her reaction. “Captain…you do realize that you are hurting yourself.”
Ezri blinked, fighting to keep from showing what she was feeling. “I…am?”
Spock nodded, as he set down his lyre. “You are. Each day you refuse to confront the pain within…makes it more difficult to face.”
Ezri frowned. I’m aware of that, Spock. I was a counselor…. Still,she remembered…something she got from the mindmeld…. “Is that something you learned from your brother?”
Spock looked off for a moment. “Perhaps. However…I am also speaking from experience. You recall your inquiries as to my…bond…which I had temporarily broken.”
Ezri nodded. “The bond with your mother.”
“Yes. And, Ezri…forgive my boldness…but you seem to have severed a bond yourself—”
Ezri shook her head. “Spock, please. I can’t talk about this.”
Spock said nothing…just stared.
Ezri tried to explain. “Understand…I want to, but…but I…”
Spock nodded. “You…are afraid that, regardless of my experiences…I could never fully understand.”
Ezri sighed, and turned away.
“Ezri…you always were too proud—”
Spock rose. “Ezri…you must allow me to help you. It is I who unveiled this conflict within you, and therefore, it is I who must assist you in your recovery.”
“Spock, you can’t understand—”
His voice turned firm. “Try me!”
Ezri whirled to face him. Her eyes narrowed in frustration. “All right, Spock. You know that speech of yours last night—all that talk about how great and noble I am?”
“Yes—I do.”
“Well…if you knew what it was, this ‘conflict’ of mine—the little thing I’ve been trying to talk to you about, but couldn’t—than maybe—”
“Ezri…I know what you have been trying to tell me.”
She froze. Her lip quivered. “You…do?”
“Logic…can offer no other conclusion.”
For a moment, Ezri considered telling him to drop it. She knew Spock would respect her wish. But…she also knew that, if she did…she would only be hurting herself.
You can do this, Ezri…you can go through this. It’s time.
She swallowed, and nodded for him to continue.
“Clearly…six years ago, you began a relationship—with Dr. Julian Bashir, of Deep Space Nine.”
Ezri’s heart skipped a beat, but she gathered her courage, and answered. “Yes.”
Spock paused, and his featured softened…as did his tone. “The two of you…were very much in love.”
Ezri nodded again. A tear came to her eye…and she spoke in a whisper. “Yes…”
“And…you came to sever that relationship, as the path you had chosen…led you apart.”
Ezri shook her head. “Spock…I…”
He frowned. “That is not…entirely accurate?”
Ezri turned away. “We’d…better sit down.”
They did so—right next to each other. She gathered her thoughts…willed herself to bring her feelings out…and began.
“Look…the trouble started a few months after the war ended. A rouge Jem’Hadar force attacked the station…and the Defiant was sent to stop them. I was forced to take command, and…I found myself relying on my memories of Dax’s past hosts. After it was all over, I began to…channel those memories, more and more. I came to realize that…I had within me…an opportunity—to do more than I had ever thought possible.”
Spock nodded. “That was when you transferred to command track.”
Ezri smiled. “I don’t remember going that far in the meld…”
“I was…guessing.”
She chuckled. “All right.” She grew serious again, “Anyway…around that time…I was…alone with Julian. Without thinking…I channeled Jadzia…and, as you can imagine…he was shocked.”
“Naturally.”
Ezri shook her head. “I became…defensive…accused him of refusing to accept me as I was. He stormed out. For a short time, we were strained, but…then, when he was attacked, and almost died…I realized that, no matter what…I still loved him. And after he recovered…we reconciled, right away.”
Spock nodded. “However…”
“However…it didn’t really end there, did it? I still explored my past hosts…still looked for ways to integrate them into my life. One time…when the Defiant was out on a three-month mission in the Gamma Quadrant…I wanted to lead an away team on a diplomatic mission, to help end a civil war.”
Ezri smiled ironically. “I told myself, ‘Oh, it’ll be simple. Lela Dax was a politician—Curzon was a diplomat. Of course I could do this.’”
She felt her smile vanish, as the next memory came. “But, Julian…became worried, and tried to get me to reconsider…and to not put my life in danger. I…got angry at him, and accused him of not respecting me—and what I could do.”
She sighed. “But that wasn’t it. It never was. He was just…worried…afraid that I was letting those memories control me…and they were. He had…tried to warn me…and I…I hated it!”
Ezri stopped, blinking away a tear. She had, for so long, denied this simple fact. To face it now was so painful…but…she knew she had no choice.
Spock asked, “Did you…reconcile then, as well?”
“We did—after the mission cut me down to size a bit. But…finally…he and I went to Trill, later that year—shortly after the parasite crisis. There was…a terrorist group that was causing trouble….”
Spock nodded. “That was when the moratorium on joining was ordered.”
“Right. I wanted to…well, to make a long story short…I wanted to get to the bottom of things. Julian was worried that…the risk would be too great…for me, and for Trill.” Ezri stiffened. “Guess what happened.”
Spock nodded again. “You brushed his warnings aside….”
“Yes…I did—over and over. And when it was all done—as we returned to the station afterwards…Julian and I talked…and when I pressed him, again, he admitted that…he was worried that—that he was becoming less important to me.”
Her mother’s words came to Ezri once again. “Ezri…you always were—”
Spock frowned. “Was his reasoning…valid?”
“I didn’t bother to think about it—not really. I found myself changing the subject—to Jadzia…my previous host. I brought up…the feelings he’d had for her.”
Ezri swallowed. She fought down her feelings, and continued, “I led myself—and him—to believe that he didn’t really love me—that it was Jadzia that he’d loved—and that I was just the next best thing.”
“I assume…that was not the truth.”
Ezri shook her head. “No…it wasn’t. But it was so convenient. And so…we told ourselves that we’d grown…farther and farther apart…and that we just weren’t right for each other, any more.”
There, she mused, I’ve said it. It’s done, now…isn’t it?
Spock’s frown deepened. “Ezri…there is more to this…is there not?”
Ezri froze for a moment. Was there more?
And then…the answer came to her, as she suddenly remembered—that fateful conversation with Joran, not so long ago…his accusations, his gloating, her denial….
She nodded. She brought her knees close to her chest, resting her arms on them. “Spock, it wasn’t until…recently…that, looking back, I realized what was really going on. It was…”
She closed her eyes. Let it out, Ezri…let it out.
“I…I had been so sure…that with Dax inside of me—with all the experience…all the knowledge…that I could do anything. And…whenever he showed concern about that—I saw him as a wall. I thought he was holding me back, but at the same time…I knew he wasn’t…not really. I knew he did all that…because he…he truly cared about me.” She fought a tear, as her lip quivered. “…because…he loved me….”
Spock said nothing.
Ezri shook her head. “And I…I drove him away for it. I hurt him, Spock. I was so addicted to those memories…that I hurt him, for daring to remind me of reality. I got mad at him. I tried to guilt him. I shoved him aside. I hurt him…” and she opened her eyes, and looked off, into the distance, “…because I wasn’t thinking. Because…I’m a Dax. Sometimes, I don’t think. Sometimes…I just…I just…”
She lowered her head, resting her eyes on her arm…and let the tears come, moistening her sleeve. She heard Spock, in a tone of compassion, finish what she had begun.
“You just…do.”
Ezri did not respond. She just sat there, shaking her head…as the tears continued to fall. Oh, Julian…Julian…what have I done to you? How can I ever…make it up to you…after all this? How can you ever forgive me? How can I…forgive myself?
She heard Spock’s voice…in a tone that spoke of full understanding.
“Ezri…is that why you refuse to trust yourself?”
She looked up at this. His question filled her heart, and her mind. Yes…it is, Spock. How many times did that smug little ego of mine…clash with him like that? How many times did he express his worry about…about what I would become, if I wasn’t careful?
How many times…did he turn out to be right?
“Spock…” Ezri managed to whisper, “Understand…I’ve accepted how much the symbiont is a part of me. I’ve…reached the balance I needed to. But…the worst part is…looking back, I was reaching that balance, then…and if I had stayed with him…if I had been patient, for just a little longer…those problems would have been over, and we would have…recovered. But I panicked. I acted too soon—and now…I have to live with that mistake.”
“Ezri…you are not infallible, any more than I am. Perhaps…in a sense, that unfortunate train of events assisted you…in rediscovering that fact. And indeed…perhaps that experience assisted in shaping you…into what you are, today.”
Ezri said nothing. Somehow…his words reminded her…of something she had once said. “Worf…we’re not gods…or prophets. We’re people. We make mistakes….”
Spock continued, “You know…that you cannot change the past. However…you can use your experience, and the lessons you have learned from it, to better prepare for the future. Perhaps…your loss has taught you to never take for granted…the things you have been given.”
Ezri nodded. “Yes…it did.”
“Then let me ask you this: Do you still believe…that you must ‘do the best you can’?”
She nodded again. “I do.”
She heard Spock lean forward. “And…Ezri…do you still love him?”
Ezri looked up. She had found herself silently asking that question many times, whenever her gaze fell on that little blue sculpture. And…the answer was always the same.
Another tear came to her eye, but it came with a smile. “Yes. And…I always will.”
And with that admission…Ezri Dax felt as if the last of her burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt as if…as if the confidence she had lost when the meld had broken…had now been restored within her.
She heard Spock’s reply. “Then…perhaps this is yet another opportunity…to ‘do the best you can’.”
Ezri sighed, and turned to him. “Spock…I know. And…when I finally realized what I had done, I made a promise to myself: that somehow…I would find a way to make it up to him.”
“Indeed. I assume, then, that you intend to fulfill that promise.”
She nodded. “I do. But…I just don’t know how.”
Spock looked off. “Perhaps, not, Captain. However…I feel confident that you will find a way.”
Ezri grinned. “You…‘feel’…?
Spock turned to her, and raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
Ezri laughed, and turned to see the sunrise.
* * *
