All righty, folks. For Christmas week, I will put up three entries--a long scene today, a short one Tuesday, and a long one Wednesday. I sure hope they'll keep you satisfied.
Now...my promise in the very beginning, to delve deep into who Ezri is as a person, will for the most part come together in these scenes. Call this "trilogy" the climax of the tale, if you will.
Here, then, is the first scene, as Spock has a big heart-to-heart with our girl. It's at night, of course--I'd think it's an unofficial literary tradition that heart-to-hearts happen at night.
Anyway, there's a couple literary quotes in here: One's from Shakespere's
Twelfth Night, and the other's from the Bible. No need to look for them--they aren't exactly hidden. At any rate...I hope you will like the touch.
Star Trek: Aventine
A Rendezvous With Destiny
Scene 17
By the time night fell, the fire was roaring away. The two sat down, their backs to the shuttle, a few feet apart from each other, warming themselves by the flames.
Ezri pulled out from a travel bag a few small packages. She handed one to Spock, after checking to confirm it was vegetarian. “Field rations.”
He took it, nodding. “Thank you, Captain.”
“Sure.”
They ate in silence. Ezri had often noticed how fellow Starfleet officers tended to complain about field rations—the flavor, the consistency, and so on. She, however, was indifferent—she
preferred “full” meals, but these packs were better than nothing.
Another memory came to her—on Goralis, when Worf had brought to their camp a dead animal—courtesy of the hunt. When she had failed to acknowledge his antics with respect, he’d complained how sick he was of what they’d had to eat for six days—
“I killed it, and now I am going to eat it. If you do not want any…than have some more field rations.”
Ah, well…simpler times, I guess….
Finally, Ezri looked up, towards the sky…and felt a smile come to her face. “Look.”
Spock followed her gaze. “Yes?”
“The stars are coming out.”
Spock paused for a moment. “Naturally…. Do you, then, feel a sense of wonder when you see them from the surface of a world?”
Ezri nodded. “I suppose….”
She focused on them for a while longer, and sighed. She turned to look at Spock. “Spock…do you know where my name comes from…by any chance?”
Spock considered the question. “I assume, from the context…that it involves the stars?”
Ezri smiled, and nodded.
“May I ask then…what it means, specifically?”
Ezri had a suspicion that Spock was capable of answering this himself—courtesy of their meld. But…he probably knew that she wanted to tell him herself. And so…she did.
“Well, it’s…from the Trill word ‘
Ihs'ree’.”
Spock frowned. “I…am not familiar with that term.”
Ezri leaned forward. “It means…‘Evening Star’.”
Spock nodded. “Indeed.”
Ezri leaned back, against the shuttle. “My father gave that name to me. I hadn’t really known what it meant…until I visited him, on Trill, some years after he’d left. The first evening, he brought me outside…and told me he was going to show me ‘my’ star.”
She sighed, still smiling at the memory. “It wasn’t hard…Ihs’ree’s always the first star to appear in the sky above Trill. It’s the brightest, too…so it’s also the last one to disappear in the morning….”
“It is not a planet? For humans, that same moniker is often given to Venus.”
Ezri chuckled. “No…it’s not a planet, Spock.”
“Then…do you know what its standard identification is?”
She shook her head. “A random string of numbers and letters, likely as not. Honestly…I’ve never bothered to find out. Somehow…I’m afraid that it’ll lose some of the romance…if I ever do.”
She turned to him. “Despite that…I think I
would have found out by now, if it really did have another name.”
Spock nodded. “Probably.”
Ezri looked off for a moment. She remembered…after she had returned home from her visit, she had told Norvo what she had learned. Without a second thought, her brother had set to work writing a small poem, using the meaning of her name as the central theme.
Many years later…he’d quoted the poem after her return, that fateful week, as he raised a glass of Saurian Brandy in toast.
“To my sister…‘A shining angel…in a dark sky’….
”
She turned to Spock. “So…what does
your name mean?”
Spock looked like he was going to smile, as well. “As you may be aware, the structure of the names of Vulcan males involves sharing their beginning and/or ending sounds with those of the name of Surak. If you…reverse this influence on the name ‘Spock’, you have the Vulcan word for…‘One Who Unites’.”
Ezri nodded in admiration. “Well…I guess that was a bit of a prophecy…wouldn’t you say?”
“Frankly, Captain, it was due in part to my being the first Vulcan-human hybrid to survive infancy. However, I
do see…the possible validity of your assertion. After all…my father chose that name, after one of Vulcan’s most noted historical figures—a ruler, who had assisted Surak in implementing his reforms.”
“Funny…I’d have thought you’d dismiss my question right away.”
“Dismiss…the concept of prophecy?”
Ezri shrugged. “Basically.”
“Captain…supernatural concepts are
not foreign to Vulcan philosophy—the claims of many modern academics notwithstanding. Surak himself, in fact, wrote on such notions as ‘fate’ a great deal. He often pointed out that…the Time of Awakening that he had initiated…occurred at
precisely the right era in our history. Had his reforms been proposed in an earlier time…they would have been rejected, on the grounds that they were wholly unnecessary.”
Ezri nodded, understanding. “And had they come later…”
“…Our race would have already destroyed itself, through war.”
Ezri stared at the fire, considering this. But Spock was not through.
“Perhaps…Ezri…
your name is predictive, as well.”
She turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“Consider: The star Ihs’ree begins to shine…amid the coming of darkness. And being the first…it shines the brightest through the long hours of the night. It draws the most attention—and therefore…the most praise.”
“You…mean…”
Spock nodded. “Ezri…you had noted how the many survivors of the Borg assault…treat you with nothing less than the greatest respect. They cheer you…they cry out their thanks to you…because you represent, to them…a beacon of hope, whose light will help them face the darkness.”
Ezri’s gaze fell to the ground. “Well…you don’t see them cheering on Picard or Riker like that….”
Spock reflected on this for a moment. “Perhaps…that is due to the fact that you are…younger than Picard or Riker.”
Ezri looked up. “Excuse me?”
Spock paused for a moment, and explained, “The Federation is somewhat…
used to Captain Picard, and the rest. Such leaders are the seasoned heroes…the ones who have been ‘put on a pedestal’, as it were, for many years. In effect, they are…the heroes of yesterday.”
Ezri raised her eyebrows in amusement. “You’re saying everyone’s…
bored with them?”
“I am saying that…they have been known as heroes for much of their respective lives. Thus, the public becomes…desensitized to them, as time goes on—and begins to take them for granted. It is an unfortunate fact…but a constant of life, nonetheless.”
“And…what does that make me?”
“You…are, in effect, the first leader…of a new generation. To return to the ‘evening star’ analogy, those stars you see as the darkness falls…are the leaders—the
heroes to come, those who are inspired by your example—those who have the potential…to herald the coming dawn.”
Ezri shook her head. Spock’s words were getting pretty hard to handle. “My—
my example?”
“From what I have…seen…of your life, Ezri…you are one with whom the people can readily identify. You have struggled—and you have triumphed…by holding true to yourself…and, as you have put it, by simply ‘doing the best you can’. And because of that—you have risen the soonest of all…and therefore, you shine the
brightest of all.”
That was it. Ezri’s hand shot up. “Spock—please. You’re talking about me like…you want to put
me on a pedestal of my own. This…
greatness you keep trying to label me with…it’s not my kind of thing.”
“Perhaps it is not meant to be. Ezri…there is an old human maxim: ‘Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born into greatness…some achieve greatness…and
some…have greatness thrust upon them.’”
Ezri frowned. “I…suppose that’s true….”
Spock nodded. “Indeed it is. Now…all are heroes—or heroines—in a sense, but I propose that the greatest of them all…is this last—the reluctant one.”
Ezri swallowed. “Why is that?”
Spock looked her in the eye, his gaze piercing down to her innermost spirit. “Because…the reluctant heroine…is one who sees the responsibility before her…and rather than see it as an achievement to boast about…she accepts this responsibility with humility…and vows to herself to be worthy of that which is bestowed upon her…and thus, to be true to who she is, and what she could be.”
Ezri turned away, staring at the flames.
“Ezri…you look around you…and you see others praise you. It is good that you are humbled by this—you prove yourself to be incorruptible…to be one who does not wish to be the symbol of anything—who is simply herself—and is content to allow history to make its own judgments.”
Ezri sighed, and felt an ironic smile appear on her face.
You just don’t give up, do you? “All right, Spock…let’s talk about my history. Do you realize that I almost sacrificed my ship in a stupid gamble—that I almost destroyed any chance we had to defeat the Borg?”
“I do not. Perhaps…you could enlighten me?”
She turned to him. “What you don’t read in all those reports…is that when the invasion began, I had the
Aventine set a course for Earth…to help defend it against them. It was suicidal—and completely useless. Fortunately, Picard was able to convince me to stand down…and turn around. If it hadn’t been for him—stopping me—we wouldn’t have been able to…do what we did, later, and—”
“Captain…I
do know that the plans you—and Hernandez—later devised…the plans which eventually eliminated the threat…were
also resisted by Picard, as he had considered them to be…too risky.”
“How…
how do you know that?”
We didn’t put that
in the reports, either….
“Picard told me himself, some weeks ago. He was…quite adamant in admitting his errors to me. At any rate…in that instance, the positions were reversed—you had been right, and
he had been wrong.”
Ezri sighed again, picked up a stick, and poked at the fire. “What happened later doesn’t change a thing, Spock. I let my feelings overcome my judgment—again. And do you know why?”
Spock’s voice had a tone of resignation. “Because…you are a Dax.”
Ezri nodded, and finished in a whisper. “And sometimes…I don’t think. I just…
do….”
“Ezri…you say that as if you despise yourself for it. I assure you, such a trait is
nothing…to be ashamed of.”
She snorted. “This coming from a man who prides himself on
logic….”
“Ezri… indeed, throughout those events, Captain Picard
thought…a great deal. But
logic suggests that, in the instances
I mentioned, such thinking was not warranted. Then were the times to put aside ‘thinking’, albeit temporarily…and take the chances you had.”
Ezri paused, wondering about this. “Maybe so…but as far as I’m concerned…sometimes, the cost is too much for me to handle.”
“
Is it?”
She nodded. “Yes…it is.”
She realized, then, that she wasn’t only speaking of the incident with the Borg. No…how many times had she acted on her feelings—and how many times…had she paid dearly for that…?
If only you knew, Spock…if only I could bring myself to tell you….
Spock frowned. “Perhaps—”
Ezri turned to him, and tried to smile. “Spock…you know, it’s like…you’re saying all those things, in order to
help me…so I can get back on my feet.”
“Perhaps I am.”
She shook her head in bewilderment. “
Why? You don’t know me—­­”
“I do now.”
“But still…we’re not really
friends…”
Spock stared at her, and a smile of his own played on his face.
Ezri froze, and she felt her eyes widen a little. “…
are we?”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Do…you wish to be?”
Ezri hesitated for a moment, and chuckled. “Well, I…”
“Perhaps…we all require a friend, for such times as these…when we would otherwise be alone. Ezri…are you familiar with the human Bible…specifically, Ecclesiastes?”
Ezri smiled. “The ‘everything’s meaningless’ part, or the ‘time and place for everything’ part?”
Spock paused for a second, and quoted, “‘…Two are better than one…. If one falls down, his friend can help him up….”
Ezri nodded. “‘But…pity the one who falls, and has
no one…to help him up.’”
“Of course…that is not specific to gender.”
Ezri chuckled, and rolled her eyes. “I guess not…”
And then, Spock’s gaze intensified, as he stared her in the eye. “And…‘Also, if two lie together, they will keep warm…but
how…can one keep warm alone?’”
Ezri felt her smile vanish, as Spock’s words hit home.
He knows
…or at least, he has a good idea what’s wrong…what’s bothering me….
He saw her reaction. “Captain—”
“
Spock…” Ezri turned away, and after a moment, turned back, “I’m getting tired. Why don’t we…talk more in the morning?”
Spock stared at her for a moment. Finally, he nodded—and set to work laying out his cot.
Ezri felt like kicking herself. But she went to work on her own cot. And then…she lay down, staring up at the stars…until she closed her eyes…and fell asleep, one thought lingering in her mind.
“Ezri…you always were too proud for your own good….
”
* * *
Maybe. You never know--but hey, I sure hope you keep on reading, mate. Who knows--you might even be pleasantly suprised. 
Well...that's not the first time that's happened, I must admit.
