UNTITLED

by Megan Levens

THREE MONTHS AFTER THE CRASH, REALITY HAD BEGUN TO SET IN.

Up until that point, the crew had always believed that they would find some

way to get home. What was left of the Defiant’s sensor logs after the crash

was sifted through and analyzed and reanalyzed, as they attempted to piece

together what had happened. What had brought them back two centuries to

this planet, and how they could get back.

Now, even the most hopeful were beginning to give up. They had no more clue

now than they ever had about what anomaly had left them stranded here, and

even less idea of how to get back to their own time. Everything familiar,

everything they knew---none of it would exist for another tw hundred years.

O’Brien was the last to lose hope, and when he did he was hit the hardest

by the reality of the situation. All he could think about was Keiko and the

kids back home---a family that existed two hundred years in the future. Of

everyone, he had lost the most.

Kira had died in the crash. While her death affected everyone, it struck

Odo particularly hard. The shapeshifter became morose and detached,

speaking no more than was necessary to anyone. He always carried her

earring with him.

The other began building a makeshift settlement. Finally convincing O’Brien

that trying to repair the Defiant was useless, they began to dismantle the

warship, using whatever they could to set up what would have to be a

permanent residence. Doing things the hard way, with minimal resources and

equipment to work with, it was several months before they could even more

into the buildings. They spent their first summer living in tents and

emergency shelters salvaged from the Defiant’s supply stores.

The summer was long, and it was miserable. On some days the heat could be

just uncomfortable, others it was downright unbearable. Julian remembered

the endless cases of dehydration and heat exhaustion he treated while

construction continued through those miserably hot months.

"I wouldn’t complain about it too much," Dax smiled on hot afternoon, on

one of her breaks from work. "It keeps you too busy to help out with

construction."

Sometimes she was the one thing that kept Julian sane. They’d been good

friends before the crash, but in the months that followed they grew even

closer. She was the only person he ever talked to, the only one who really

listened. By the end of the third month, of everyone in the settlement,

they probably knew each other the best. She knew him inside out, and vice

versa. They shared all their fears, their secrets, their hidden feelings.

All of them, except one that they both felt, and both feared.

She had been with Worf since before the crash. As construction on the

settlement got along, there was talk of a wedding in the fall. Julian had

always thought of them as more or less a happy pair, despite some

differences, and tried his hardest to keep his thoughts buried beneath a

false smile.

He ran into her outside the settlement one hot night. She was alone,

sitting against the stone wall of one of the buildings. Hearing him

approach, she looked up and smiled at him. "Julian," she greeted, patting

the ground beside her.

Sitting down next to her, Julian looked at her. Half her face was washed in

the warm glow from the camplights, pinpoints of yellow flickering in her

ice-blue eyes. She looked troubled, but hid it behind a smile.

He noticed something distinctly different about her. "You cut your hair,"

he said suddenly.

Jadzia smiled, running her fingers through her freshly-cropped hair,

shorter now than his. "it was getting a little heavy," she shrugged, then

laughed lightly to herself. "Worf, of course, hated it. He made he promise

to grow it back for the wedding."

Impulsively, Julian reached out and combed his own dark fingers gently

through her hair. "I like it," he said quietly.

The next week, supplies began running low. They’d stripped the Defiant

nearly bare, recycled everything they could back into their

barely-functioning replicators, but still, food and raw materials were

getting scarce. Worf decided to lead a scout party out beyond the crash

site, and within a day he and his group of six had left.

In their absence, work still had to continue, although a little more slowly

due to lack of materials. For a while there was a pleasant lull, and

spirits began to lift. By now, some buildings were habitable, and people

began moving things in. Tents and shelters were coming down. Dawson had

even planted a garden, which he promised would start producing vegetables

in the fall. The settlement was beginning to feel less like a camp and more

like a home.

Over the next few weeks, Julian spent more and more time with Jadzia. He

helped her move things from her tent to her new home; she helped him set up

his Infirmary. One perfectly clear night, they both laid on their backs on

a hill outside the settlement, gazing at the stars that shined furiously

overhead.

"Do you think any of them could be Trill?" she asked wistfully.

Julian looked at her. Before that, she had never said anything about being

homesick. She always kept her mind focused on this world, and the home they

were building here. But apparently, underneath her optimism and focus, she

wanted to go back just as much as anyone else.

"If my astronomy’s correct," he said, pointing up into the glittering bowl

of night, "that’s Vulcan’s sun right there. That should be Trill’s over

there."

"Where?"

He pointed to a particularly dim star, set between two brighter

ones---almost invisible. "There."

Her eyes followed along his arm and finger, finally spotting the faint

point of light in the sky. "It’s so dim," she said quietly.

Hearing that tone in her voice hurt him. "Still, you’re lucky," he sighed.

"I can’t even see Earth’s sun from here."

She smiled thinly, the stars reflecting in her eyes. "Thanks anyway," she

said through a lopsided grin.

"You’re welcome." Julian’s gaze drifted back up into the sky, when he

noticed a seam in the sky where the stars ended. Everything beyond it was

pure black.

Stormclouds.

He bolted, grabbing her hand and pulling her with him. "Come on," he said

hastily. "We have to get under cover."

They were too far from the settlement to reach it before the clouds swept

in, but the ruined Defiant was close enough. The warship lay broken on the

valley rim, her belly clawed open by the mountains she’d scraped across in

the crash.

The thunder was deafening, rumbling across the sky as they climbed hastily

into the battered ship. Rain beat down on the hull, while flashing

lightning lit up the dark interior of the ship.

The safest place, apparently, was the bridge. All of the chairs and useful

materials such as glass and metal had been pried out---any salvageable

circuitry and equipment had likewise been removed. Even the carpet had been

ripped up. But amazingly, the main viewport was still in place.

Jadzia sat down near the viewport while Julian searched the equipment

lockers all over the bridge for any kind of light. He finally came across

an overlooked palm beacon, the power cell nearly dead, but still better

than nothing. He switched it on and set it on the deck, sitting down beside

her.

Through the viewport, they saw the full extent of the storm’s violence, as

nearby lightning bolts splintered trees, sending flying shards of burning

wood through the air. Wind tore down limbs and howled outside. Rain pelted

the ground and the hull around them.

Tiredly, Jadzia leaned back against Julian’s chest, laying her head on his

shoulder. She pressed her fingers against the viewport. "Do you think the

others are all right back at the settlement?"

Julian knitted his fingers with hers. "Enough of the buildings are finshed

for everyone to take shelter in." He pressed his face against her hair,

taking in the smell of her, sweet and inviting.

They stayed there, watching the lightning together, for hours. The palm

light had long since flickered and died. He sang softly in her ear as the

storm raged on, until she fell asleep in his arms, the sound of thunder

roaring outside light-years away.

Returning to the settlement, they found much of the equipment that had been

left in the tents damaged or completely destroyed. There had been no word

from the scout party, either, since the storm’s passing. Dax barely

flinched at the news.

Two days later, right as another group was being organized, the first

replied. They were returning with a substantial haul of supplies loaded

onto the land rovers O’Brien and the engineers had jerry-rigged from parts

of the damaged shuttles and the Defiant itself. The trip would take them

another two weeks, perhaps less.

The strange thing was, Julian noticed, that Jadzia seemed more disturbed by

the news of Worf’s impending return than she had been by the possibility

that he might not return at all.

They didn’t avoid each other, because that would have been obvious, but

they were both much more nervous now when they were together. The feelings

had gotten harder to hold back; it was becoming clearer that it wasn’t a

harmless attraction. That only made it that much more dangerous.

Julian didn’t think that anyone else had noticed, until one day O’Brien

caught sight of the two of them holding hands, if only for a brief moment.

When she had left, he pulled Bashir aside sharply. "Julian, I’m telling you

as a friend...don’t," he whispered. "And don’t tell me that you have no

idea what I’m talking about. I’ve seen the way you look at her, and the way

she looks at you."

"Since when is it your business?" Julian demanded.

"It’s my business," Miles said lowly, "when I can see a friend of mine

about to something stupid. Julian, if anything happens between you and

her---anything---Worf is going to kill you. Literally. Dax, too, maybe."

"Do you think I don’t know that?" Julian cried, his eyes becoming ice

shards. "Do you think I have any sort of control over this?"

Miles put his hand on Julian’s shoulder. "I’m only asking you to think with

your head, and not your heart. For your sake and for her’s." He took his

hand back and left quietly, leaving Julian churning with anger, fear, and

confusion.

Late that night, from his adjoining bedroom he heard a knock at the

Infirmary door. Wide awake, and not expecting to get any sleep soon, he

crawled out of bed to answer it, wondering what could possibly require his

attention at this hour.

He found her standing there, short dark hair rumpled, her ice-blue eyes

bright with fear and passion. "I didn’t wake you," she guessed, stepping

inside. She closed the door behind her. And locked it.

"No." He looked and her and said quietly, "Jadzia, you shouldn’t have come

here."

"I wanted to," she said evenly, taking a hesitant step closer.

Julian reached out tentatively, touching her face. She leaned into his

touch, holding his hand tightly in both of hers. "You should leave," he

whispered nervously, feeling his control falter.

"I won’t," she protested. She couldn’t even look at him. "I know it’s

dangerous. I know I should turn around and leave and forget all about you.

But I can’t. I look at you and---" Her voice trailed off. She looked up at

him, and her eyes said everything.

Julian pulled her to him impulsively, passionately, and kissed her, unable

to fight it anymore. She held his tightly against her, gripping fistfuls of

his hair. And for a while, they forgot about the others. It was just the

two of them.

But it didn’t last long. Lying awake, Julian watched her sleep, tracing a

finger lazily along her spots and wondering just how Worf would kill him,

until he fell asleep himself. When he woke up, Jadzia was gone.

They met as often as possible. They had to steal away from the others to

simply hold hands, but they managed to keep their affair a well-guarded

secret. Most of the time she would act out a fake illness, a dizzy spell

that required Dr. Bashir’s immediately attention. None of the otheres

seemed to suspect a thing. O’Brien never mentioned it again---if he knew,

or had any suspicion, he kept it hidden well.

The affair did not end when Worf returned. They resolved to see each other

less often, and took even more care that each of their meetings was secret.

But Julian couldn’t live without her.

"Leave Worf and be with me," he implored her one night in bed, combing his

fingers through her hair. True to her word, she’d grown it out for Worf. It

reached about chin-length now.

"I’m afraid to." She laid her head on his chest. "You don’t know how he can

be, Julian."

"Has he hit you?" Julian demanded, sitting up. "If he’s hit you, I swear

I’ll kill him---"

She kissed him tenderly and eased him back down. "Shhh. No, he hasn’t. But

he’ll do more than hit me if I try to leave him for you."

Julian sighed, frustrated. "I want to be with you forever. And I can’t

stand the thought that he’s the one who gets to."

"I know." She pulled herself closer to him. "I wish I could change it."

"You can."

She married Worf in early autumn. It was a simple ceremony, performed by

Sisko in front of the colonists (as they’d decided on calling themselves,

since they were hardly a crew anymore). As Ben led her in her vows, she

glanced back to Julian from underneath her circlet of flowers, her pale

blue eyes reminding him that she was giving Worf her hand, but she had

given him her soul.

The settlement was finally finished, for the most part, just at the

beginning of winter. They were all worried that the miserably hot summer

meant that they were in for a long, cold winter. O’Brien and his team set

to work getting the environmental system they’d taken from the Defiant to

work before the coldest weather hit.

About a month before winter arrived, Jadzia began to have brief dizzy

spells---real ones. A visit to Julian and a few quick tests confirmed what

they both feared. She was five weeks pregnant.

Worf had just returned from a month-long scouting expedition two weeks

earlier.

They both agreed to wait until the baby was born to admit anything. It was

easy to lie about how far along she was, to act as if it was Worf’s child.

Eleven months later, it wouldn’t be quite so easy to explain the baby’s

lack of any and all Klingon qualities. But they would wait until then to

deal with it.

In the months that followed, Julian had a good excuse to be around Jadzia,

although their time together now was spent as patient and doctor, rather

than as lovers. Passion had turned to fear---fear of being together, fear

of what would happen if and when the truth came out.

Tobias was born in mid-fall the next year. Worf had little---if

any---knowledge of genetics, and while a little disappointed, he assumed

the baby’s lack of Klingon features was normal. And fortunately, so did

everyone else.

But while their secret remained safe, Julian became angry. He didn’t have

to answer for his mistakes, he didn’t have to suffer the shame of his

affair with Jadzia, he wouldn’t have to take the brunt of Worf’s anger.

Months earlier, this would have been the outcome he’d hoped against the

odds for.

Now, he would’ve rather faced all of Worf’s fury, all of the guilt and the

shame, than stand by and watch his son grow up with Worf for a father.

It was poetic justice. Fate had damned him for his mistakes---he had been

the first to hold Tobias, the first in the galaxy to ever see his son’s

face, when the child had been snatched away from him and handed to Worf.

He’d brought it upon himself. But Tobias was still his son---not Worf’s. He

still deserved to be part of the boy’s life.

Three weeks after Tobias was born, they met in secret again, for the first

time in more than a year. That year had changed everything. "What is it?"

Julian asked quietly. Her eyes were troubled.

Gently she took both his hands in hers. "Forget about me, Julian," she said

finally, after a long moment of silence. She looked at him calmly but

sadly. "This couldn’t have gone on forever. You and I both knew that. It

had to end sometime."

Julian held her face in his hands, staring at her in shock. His entire

world was literally crashing down around him. He couldn’t even speak.

"Please. It’s better this way," she continued, as if she were trying to

reassure herself as well. Her gaze dropped to the ground.

Putting a finger under her chin and making her look at him, he said

quietly, "You’re asking me to forget about you. To forget everything that’s

happened between us. Jadzia---"

"Don’t say it," she pleaded. "Don’t make this harder."

He said it anyway. "I love you."

She was visibly choking back tears, holding his face in one hand. "And I

love you. That’s why I’m doing this."

"Doing what? Depriving me of the only thing I have left to live for?"

Julian didn’t even try to fight his tears. "I need you," he cried, in a

last-ditch effort to change her mind. "I can’t live with you..." He put his

arms around her waist, leaning his head on her chest. She reacted numbly.

"We take this to our graves," she said quietly but firmly. "Promise me,

Julian. It dies with us."

He reached up and touched her face, her hair. "I promise. But only beacuse

I do love you."

Saying nothing, she stepped back and began walking away from him, back

toward the settlement. "Jadzia," he called after her, his voice choked. She

turned. "I don’t miss you yet."

She looked at him sadly. "You will."

She was right.

The years passed. Julian later married and had two children of his own from

that pairing. While he loved them both dearly, he still had a separate

place in his heart for Tobias. The family he had now was one that he’d

forced himself into.

Meanwhile, he watched Tobias grow up. Extremely bright and gifted, and

handsome as well, the boy had his mother’s ice-blue eyes, piercing and

haunting. When he asked questions about why he didn’t look like his Klingon

father, they waved it off as a genetic fluke. When they’d ended their

affair years ago, both his true parents had decided that telling him the

truth would only complicate his life. He’d done nothing to deserve it. It

had been their mistake.

Worf died in an accident when Tobias was seventeen. As they buried him

beside Kira, Dawson and Tannenbaum, Julian looked over at Jadzia and felt a

pang of guilt. He hadn’t wished Worf dead, but it felt as it was his fault.

Julian himself died rather young, in his early seventies. After he’d seen

his children, he asked only for Jadzia and Tobias. "I just had to see you

one last time," he smiled weakly at Tobias. Now grown, he’d become one of

the settlement leaders.

"Why?" Tobias asked.

Jadzia took hold of her son’s arm gently. "Why don’t you wait outside," she

said quietly. Nodding, Tobias squeezed the hand of the man he’d always

known as a surrogate uncle, not as a father.

Smiling warmly at her, Julian held out his hand, and she took it, kissing

his fingers. "I’m glad," he coughed, "that you’re the last thing I’m going

to remember before I die." She laughed softly, through the tears that were

welling in her eyes. "Jadzia," he whispered. "You have...to tell him.

Tobias. I want him to know who I am."

"Shhh." She combed her fingers through his thinning white hair. "He’ll

know. Someday. I promise you."

He looked at her and smiled, his grip on her hand already getting weaker.

"I still love you," he said quietly. "I always loved you."

"I know." Jadzia leaned over and kissed him deeply, knowing that it would

be their last kiss. She broke away gently. "I still love you. I always

have. And I always will."

Content, Julian smiled and closed his eyes. Jadzia laid her head beside

him, holding his hand, until she felt him leave. She stayed there beside

him a few hours more. She didn’t cry. Her grief went deeper than that.

Two years later, Jadzia herself let go. The closest thing to a suitable

host, Tobias was chosen to receive the Dax symbiont. Before the transfer,

Jadzia smiled and told him, "I’m just glad...you’ll finally know. I

promised him you would know."

It was over in a blur. And then, for the first time in his life, Tobias did

know.

Reliving it through Dax’s memories, it was easier for him to understand

than it would have ever been if they’d simply told him. He felt Jadzia’s

love for Julian---remembered all of her fears, how hard it had been for her

to let go.

He forgave them both. And Dax took those memories to its grave, as Jadzia

had promised Julian years ago.

THE END