Subject: REPOST FOR WANG: Julia pt.1
From: [email-masked] (Anthony Tecce)
Date: Wed, 01 Feb 1995 08:50:00 -0500
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative

"Julia", a Star Trek: DS9 story, by Pamela Buickel, copyright
1994.  All rights reserved.
Star Trek: DS9 Characters, copyright Paramount Pictures.  All
rights reserved.  

JULIA: PT I

     In the heyday of the Cardassian occupation of Bajor, when
the resistance was in its crescent, the holy orders and temples
were often the target of looting and violence.  Relics were
confiscated, simple dwellings ransacked, and crops burned. 
Younger, stronger monks and vedeks were rounded up for labor in
the mines.  The older, weaker brothers and sisters were
slaughtered.
     One day in the northern-most region, of the northern-most
peninsula, a platoon of Cardassian soldiers attacked a very
small, very poor monastery.  There was little to steal and most
of the order were elderly, so the soldiers took to the task of
torturing and killing their meek prey.  But one young recruit was
cowardly, and ran off toward the fields to hide so the others
would not see his fear.  He stumbled upon a young monk who
already lay there in hiding.  Both men trembled at the sight of
each other--one in confusion and terror, the other in wordless
panic.  The soldier knew if the monk cried out his platoon would
discover he was hiding, and he would be disgraced.  He flung
himself upon the monk, pummeling him with his fists.  At the
sight of first blood spilt from the blows, the soldier went into
a frenzy.  He unsheathed the knife at his hip and plunged it into
his victim's eyes--first one, then the other.  The monk howled in
pain, the soldier howled in glory.  The Cardassian leapt up from
his victim and ran off to join the other soldiers in their blood
sport, leaving the monk to his sightless agony, and eventual
death.
     But the monk did not die.  He huddled on the hard ground for
a long time, until his self-pity could no longer provide him
warmth.  He set himself on a blind trek for help and shelter. 
With only his imagination to provide him light and companionship,
he exacted revenge over and over upon his attacker--each scenario
more cruel than the last.  The longer he walked, the harder his
heart became.  The monk forgot his vows, and he knew hatred he
had not known before--hatred of his enemy, of all Cardassians.
     Until, along the way, he came upon a man in a state more
desperate than his own.  The man had been shot, and left for
dead.  The monk ran a hand over the man's chest, and through the
warm, sticky fluid felt the faint beat of a heart.  He tore off
the bottom part of his robe to form bandages.  On his hands and
knees he felt around for any supplies the man may have dropped,
and came across a water canteen, nearly empty.  Ignoring his own
thirst, his concern focused only upon the unseen soul, he
rationed the water through the man's lips, a drop at a time, and
lay with him to keep him warm.
     This vigil he continued for two days and two nights, and on
the third day the man recovered.  To the monk's astonishment he
discovered that the man he had tended so diligently was none
other than his Cardassian tormentor.  When the soldier realized
who it was who had saved his life, he became remorseful. 
Throwing himself at the monk's feet, he wept and begged
forgiveness for his previous cruelty.  The monk's heart melted,
and he forgave the soldier.  The Cardassian then pledged his

allegiance to the Bajoran monk, and promised to serve him
faithfully for the rest of their lives.  The soldier guided the
monk to safety in the hillside, where once there, he removed his
own eyesight in deference to his casualty, and his friend.  And
then together, the Bajoran monk and the Cardassian soldier
established the Holy Order of Visionaries.  To this day only the
most devout novices pledge themselves to the order.  For upon
acceptance they must surrender their eyesight, so that they may
serve all the Prophets' children generously, without regard to
race, creed, sex, or deformity.

                              ***************
                        
     No one knew who she was, where she'd come from, or how long
she spent suffering alone in the empty quarters where Odo found
her, after receiving reports from passersby of terrible moans and
screams coming from the area.  The constable didn't recognize
her, and knew she hadn't come through security to be assigned
these rooms.  In all likelihood, the woman had come off one of
the transport ships in dock.  She was probably wandering the
corridors when the labor pangs hit, and crawled into the first
vacant quarters she came upon.  Odo couldn't understand why she
didn't simply go to the infirmary, and was relieved to hand the
problem over to the station's young medic, Dr. Julian Bashir. 
When he and his Bajoran nurse, Jabara, arrived on the scene, Odo
quickly retreated to his office, where he felt he could be of
more use scanning the day's manifests for the woman's
identification.
     Julian, on the other hand, was feeling quite useless
here--though he was loathed to admit it to himself, much less to
his nurse, or the chief of security.  It quickly became the most
difficult delivery he had ever participated in.  There was
nothing special or risky about the pregnancy, at least, not that
he could determine.  The danger lay in the mother's refusal to
acknowledge her baby's impending arrival.  She thrashed out and
kicked at the exasperated doctor and his nurse, whose normally
infinite patience had long since fled.  She was scared, and this
Julian could understand.  What he couldn't rationalize was her
resistance to his help, to the point that she was endangering
her baby's life, as well as her own.  She was too far along in
her labor to safely transport her to the infirmary, where he
could use a mild restraining field--though under normal
circumstances he would never consider such a thing. Her violent
gyrations forbade the doctor from performing even a proper exam. 
All he could ascertain was that she was Cardassian, maybe 16-
years-old, and that her baby was coming . . . *Now*.
     Julian kept up a soothing discourse, fighting the urge to
scream at the girl.  But when it became critical for him to have
her cooperation, and it was obvious none was forthcoming, Julian
used a medical technique he'd learned from the writings of a
revered 23rd-century Starfleet doctor.  He administered a swift
right-cross to her chin--just hard enough to startle.  The
treatment had the desired effect.  The Cardassian girl lay back,
stunned, and merely whimpered.  Julian leaned over her and lay
his hands firmly on the sides of her head, forcing her attention
on his face.
     "Now listen to me," he spoke in quiet, even tones, but
with force in every syllable, "whether you want it or not, this
baby is coming.  I'm going to help you.  No one here wants to
hurt you--but I need you to work with me.  Do you understand?"
     The girl's eyes brimmed over with tears, but she made no
other response.
     Julian kept at her.  "Do you understand!?", he said again. 
"I'm not going *anywhere*."
     Finally, mercifully, she acquiesced.  The girl nodded
slowly, then squeezed her eyes shut, and arched her back in
anticipation of another wave of pain.
     Julian relaxed his own stance, and let out a quick sigh of
relief before resuming the immediate task of preparing the way
for a new life to enter the universe.  For an instant he caught
the eye of Nurse Jabara, who bit back the urge to burst out
laughing.  Julian whispered a prayer under his breath, "Thank
you, Dr. Leonard McCoy."

     Later, while the exhausted young mother lay sleeping, and
Julian finished cleaning up, Jabara paced back and forth with the
tiny baby girl bundled in her arms.  The child's parentage was
unmistakable--with fine Cardassian ridges around her face, and
down her neckline and shoulders--and Bajoran blue eyes, and the
identifiable wrinkle of the nose.  Jabara shook her head, sadly. 
"This is not good," she spoke softly, to no one in particular.
     "What did you say?", Julian asked, coming out of the
bathroom, still toweling off his hands.  Before she could answer,
the door chimed.  Odo had returned with information on their
mysterious Cardassian guest.
     Julian beamed at him, "Constable!  You missed your chance to
cut the umbilical cord," he teased the shapeshifter.
     "Hrummph," was Odo's only response to Julian's taunt. 
Despite himself, he peeked into Jabara's arms.  "Well, that
explains some things," he said, as he looked up at the nurse.  A
silent understanding passed between the two, not unnoticed by the
doctor.  It began to annoy him.
     "What did you find out?, Julian addressed Odo, a little
curtly.  He hated being on the outside.
     "Her name's Aelenn Ocetta," he started.  "At least, that's
what it says on the manifest.  She booked passage from Bajor to
DS9, transferring to an Andorian freighter we have in dock.  The
freighter leaves DS9 in six hours."     
     "Looks like she's going to miss her flight," Julian said.
"Do you know where on Bajor she came from?"
     "She caught the shuttle from the Talcet district."
     "Probably comes from the Talcet Resettlement Center.  I
remember the place when Garak and I visited there a year ago. 
She's obviously one of the war orphans."
     "If that's true, I wonder where she got the money for the
trip?"  Odo's suspicious nature took over.  "The whole passage
cost 1000 Bajoran Lita.  That's quite a sum for a war orphan."
     "Indeed," Julian mused.  "I guess we can find out more when
she wakes up, though," he hastened to add, "I don't want to
badger her.  Poor thing's scared enough as it is."  He thought
for a moment, "I wonder if we can find the father?  He must be
one of the Bajoran boys from the center."
     Jabara nodded, seemingly in agreement, though in her heart
she knew the child's father was no orphan boyfriend.  It would
never occur to this young man to think the Bajoran in question
was likely a caretaker, or local villager, who seized the chance
to take out his hatred and bigotry on an innocent child--one who
was as much a victim of the occupation as he was.  The fare was
probably paid by him, to dispose of his dirty indiscretion before
his family found out.  That Julian Bashir wouldn't immediately
consider this, was one of the reasons Jabara liked him, and
respected him.  His innocence, and lack of any prejudice, annoyed
some.  They found him naive.  Jabara found him refreshing.  She
hoped he'd always stay that way.
      "Where's my baby?"  All three startled at the child-like
voice. The girl, now awake, struggled to sit up on the bed.
      "Take it easy," Julian moved quickly to her side.  "You may
be a little sore."  He helped ease her up against the pillows.
      "I want my baby," she said again.  Jabara held out the
infant to place in her arms.  The girl stared distrustingly at
the nurse, and would only reach for the child when Julian told
her it was O.K.  When Jabara tried to show her how to support the
baby's head, she jerked away.  Julian quickly intervened, both to
protect the baby, and to avoid an argument.  He dismissed Jabara,
and shot a look to the constable that told him his presence, too,
was no longer required.  Odo merely grumbled, "If you need me," 
then left swiftly behind the nurse.  Odo knew better than to
argue with Dr. Bashir in these situations.
     Once alone, Julian tried to establish a rapport with the
Cardassian mother.  She was uneasy and, at the same time,
comfortable with the doctor.
     "Is she strong--will she live?" she asked Julian.
     He smiled, and said, "Of course she'll live.  She's very
healthy.  And pretty, like her mother."
     The compliment fell flat on the girl, and she glowered at
him.  Julian quickly changed his strategy.  "Do you have
someone to help you with the baby--anyone we can contact for
you?"
     "No," was all she said.  Julian realized information was
going to be tough to come by.  Just then the child started to
wail, and the girl went wide-eyed with concern.
     "I think she's hungry," he told the mother.  "She's ready to
nurse."
     The look on the girl's face told him she was completely at a
loss as to what to do.  He wondered if she'd received any
prenatal care at all.  
     "It's not that difficult--rather natural, really.  Do you
want me to help you begin?"
     The young mother started to hand the baby back to Julian. 
He laughed, and gently guided the infant back toward her mother's
breast.  "I think it works much better if you do it.  Here, now,
just relax . . ."

     When the girl seemed more at ease, Julian left her alone to
begin bonding with her child.  He promised to check in on her a
few hours later.  On his way back from the infirmary, Julian
hoped she'd be more receptive to some questions.  He brought
along a small stuffed bear, once loved by Molly O'Brien.  She had
since outgrown the toy, and left it behind when she accompanied
her mother to Bajor.  When Julian entered the quarters, his heart
sank.  The baby girl lay asleep on the bed, nestled in a blanket. 
She was warm, and dry--and completely alone.  There was no sign
of the young mother anywhere.  The computer confirmed his fear--
the Andorian freighter had left the station 30 minutes prior. 
With a sigh, he tapped his com badge.
     "Bashir to Odo.  Constable, we have a little problem . . ."

     An hour later Julian stood with Commander Sisko in Odo's
security office.  Sisko wanted immediate answers.
     "What did you find out, Constable?"
     Odo handed a data padd to the commander. "It seems our Miss
Ocetta kept her flight plans after all."  Julian involuntarily
groaned.  "The Andorian captain confirms she is aboard his ship. 
We can have her picked up when he makes his first stop at Altair
VI."
     "No," Julian quickly interjected.
     Sisko looked to his medical officer, with eyebrows raised. 
"Doctor?" he started.
     Julian hurriedly explained.  "Commander, there's no need to
treat her as a criminal."
     "I disagree, Doctor," Odo said.  "She did abandon her own
child . . ."
     "And, on board a federation-run space station," Sisko
continued.
     "But sir," Julian fought to keep his voice from sounding
like a whine. "She's just a child herself.  Dragging her back
here isn't going to make her want the baby any more than she does
now.  She's scared, and confused, and . . ."
     "That's not the point," Odo interrupted.  "She committed a
crime on board this station . . ."
     It was Julian's turn to interrupt.  "Commander . . ."
     Sisko raised a hand to cease the conversation.  "All right!" 
He leaned against Odo's desk, arms crossed.  "I must admit, my
immediate concern is for the baby.  At the moment we're
responsible for her safety," Sisko paused, "and for turning her
over to the proper Bajoran authorities."
     "You mean an orphanage?"  Julian said.
     "Yes," Sisko said softly, but firmly.  "Major Kira's 
contacting Bajor now."
     "But what if the mother comes back?"  Julian looked into
Sisko's unflinching expression, then dropped his gaze and said,
more to himself than anyone, "Right.  She's not coming back."
     Sisko couldn't help but soften to the doctor's mood.  He
placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder, with a friendly
squeeze.  Then he said, "Constable, I don't think we need to
pursue the matter further--at least, not at this time."
     "As you wish, Commander."  Shaking his head, Odo thought he
would never understand humanoids.
     "Come on, doctor," Sisko gently nudged Julian toward the
door.  "Let's see what Major Kira's got for us."

-- 
"Earth-Mostly harmless"                           "TO HELL WITH THE     
      Douglas Adams                               PRIME DIRECTIVE!                       1                                                  I'M GONNA KILL       1                                                  SOMETHING!"  
 [email-masked]                                 Unkown             

Path: tivoli.tivoli.com!geraldo.cc.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!news2.near.net!delphi.bc.edu!NewsWatcher!user
From: [email-masked] (Anthony Tecce)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: REPOST FOR WANG: Julia pt.2
Date: Wed, 01 Feb 1995 08:50:34 -0500
Organization: Boston College
Lines: 332
Distribution: world
Message-ID: <[email-masked]>
NNTP-Posting-Host: ps09.bc.edu
Xref: tivoli.tivoli.com alt.startrek.creative:5464

JULIA: PART II

  Kira Nerys hated bureaucrats.  She hated having to talk to
them, to coddle them, to plead with them.  She hated bureaucrats
almost as much as she hated Cardassians.  Actually, that wasn't
entirely true.  There were a few Cardassians she grudgingly
respected, and one or two she actually liked.  She had yet to
find a bureaucrat she could say that about!
     When Julian and Sisko returned to Ops, they found Major Kira
in a heated discussion with a Bajoran male, via the com link.  In
her anger she naturally slipped into her native tongue.  Though
neither men were very fluent in Bajoran, it didn't take a
linguist to understand that Kira was burning the man's ears with
string of obscenities.  She suddenly broke the link with a slam
on the com panel.  Kira turned to find Sisko staring
questioningly at her, with veiled amusement.  She suddenly felt
like a child who'd been caught doing something naughty.
     "Good news, Major?" Sisko chided her.  Kira immediately went
on the defensive.
     "I'll never understand civil servants!  The idiocy . . .we
could feed an entire *province* on what we pay just *one* of
those cretins . . ."
     Sisko quietly stopped her tirade.  "What did they say about
our little guest?" 
     Kira took a breath, and fought to control her temper.  "They
don't want her."         
     "What!!??" Julian broke in.  "What the hell does that mean,
they don't *want* her!!.  His outburst only contributed to the
major's ire.  She turned her exasperation with full force on him.
     "Just that, doctor.  They don't want her.  Oh, they'll take
her if they have to, but they suggest we find other
alternatives."
     "This is outrageous!"  Given enough fuel, Julian's temper
could match Kira's, flare for flare.  "I don't understand . . ."
     "That's just it," she countered.  "You don't understand--you
couldn't possibly . . ."
     Sisko was convinced he spent half his time playing referee
to his often volatile senior staff.  Too many strong 
personalities, too many long hours, all under lousy conditions. 
"Why don't you explain it to us, Major, so we *can* understand."
     Julian and Kira glared at each other--neither one angry with 
the other.  Both too stubborn to admit their misdirection. 
Julian was the first to back down, a silent apology behind his
eyes as he dropped his gaze.  The action only frustrated Kira,
and made her feel guilty.  She knew this man wasn't her enemy. 
Her anger was rooted in embarrassment.  Embarrassed by her
position as the voice of the Bajoran government to Starfleet.  A
voice laced in prejudice--a feeling she could well understand
and, at the same time, despise.
     Kira tried to soften her tactic.  "Look, Julian," she used
his name awkwardly.  "The problem is the resettlement centers are
over full now with children they can't place."  She hesitated
before broaching the more painful aspect.   "And, the fact that
this child is a half-breed . . ."
     Julian couldn't believe she said it.  "A half-breed?"  His
voice a strangled whisper.
     Kira continued, despite her discomfort.  "The truth of the
matter is, a Cardassian child has a better chance of being placed
in foster care than she does.  And even in the orphanage, she'll
never be accepted by the other children--Cardassian or Bajoran. 
They'll ignore her, or abuse her . . . or worse."  It sickened
Kira to have to spell it out for the doctor.
     Julian felt ill. "I can't believe that from children.  Not
of their own accord.  Children take their cue from adults."
     "That may be," Kira said, simply.  She couldn't take the
pain in his eyes any longer.  Kira fixed her attention on Sisko.
"It hasn't been that long since the occupation.  There's still a
lot of fear, and rage . . ."  The explanation felt weak on her
lips.
     Sisko understood better than he cared to admit.  "Are they
suggesting we try to place the child ourselves?"
     "That's exactly what we'll do," Julian said with conviction.
"I'm certainly not going to release her into a potentially
abusive situation."
     "It may not be that easy . . ." Kira started.
     "It doesn't matter, Major.  Whatever it takes, however long
it takes."  Julian was adamant.
     The commander, however, had misgivings.  "Now wait a minute,
Doctor.  We have to think of what's best for the child.  And
what's best may not include being passed hand to hand around the
station until we've found her a home."
     Julian had begun to feel like the little girl's knight in
armor.  His natural tendencies toward protectiveness overwhelmed
him.  "That won't be necessary, Commander.  I'm the chief medical
officer, and as such, I'll be solely responsible for her.  No one
need be put out, but me."  His last remark sounded sharp, even to
him.
     Sisko knew the doctor's heart was larger than his common
sense at times.  But he couldn't fault him for it.  Nor could he
override his authority here.  The decision  made, he could only
comply.  "All right, Dr. Bashir.  What do you need us to do on
this end?"
     Julian thought for a moment, then said, "Major, please track 
down any Bajoran families living on DS9 who have volunteered for
the government foster program."  Julian thought these families,
having spent time off Bajor and among the many races on board the
station, might be more amenable to adopting the baby.  Kira only
nodded, not trusting herself to say any thing else.
     The more he pondered the situation, the more he was sure he
could find a suitable home for the infant himself.  And, until
then, he would be her temporary foster "family".  Julian smiled
to himself.  **Might be good practice--for future.**  And,
anyway, how hard could it be?

     At first, the signs looked good for finding a home.  Major
Kira found five Bajoran families who qualified.  All expressed an
interest, so Julian and Jabara scheduled time to interview each
candidate.  By the end of the week, Julian's spirits had dampened
considerably.  After talking with the first set of potential
parents, Julian realized Major Kira had not informed the Bajorans
of the child's parentage.  The first couple quickly made it clear
they would not consider taking in the child, under any
circumstances.  The second couple expressed the same discomfort. 
The remaining three families canceled their interviews
altogether.
     Julian then turned to a Starfleet couple he'd been
counseling for infertility.  The woman was human, the man a
Vulcan.  He was sure they'd be anxious to adopt any child.  After
"careful consideration", they informed the abashed young doctor
that it would be "illogical, at this juncture, to take on the
responsibilities of a child with such opposing heritages." 
Julian was distraught--and exhausted.
     In addition to his desperate search for foster parents, he
had his regular duties as the station's physician, and as a
senior officer--as well as the constant demands of an infant. 
During duty hours he allowed his staff to assist in caring for
the child, since he had to bring her with him to the infirmary. 
Nurse Jabara even decided to name her.
     "We can't keep calling her, 'she' or 'the baby', Jabara
said.
     "What do you suggest?" Julian asked.
     "Well, it can't be a Bajoran name, or a Cardassian one. 
Neither seems appropriate."  She thought for a moment, then said,
"How about 'Julian-a'?"
     Julian blushed, despite himself, and grinned.  "If you're
looking for the feminine of my name, I think that would be
*Julia*."
     Jabara cocked her head at the infant girl, and let the name
roll off her lips for measure.  "Julia.  Yes, I think she
definitely looks like a *Julia*."
     "She does have a rather 'lost' look, I guess."  This was
one of the few moments of pure joy he allowed himself.
     For every night he spent alone with the little girl, and
quickly discovered the difficulties of single parenthood.  The
Cardassian breast milk he had to replicate disagreed with the 
baby.  She developed colic, and her system resisted the medicine
he normally prescribed.  While his days were long,  his nights
were longer.  She slept little, and he slept less.  Yet, Julian
declined offers of help from his friends--Dax, O'Brien, Sisko. 
Even Kira found an excuse to "drop by" one evening.  Still, he
refused their assistance--both out of pride, and an increasing
attachment.  Each time she was rejected for adoption, Julian
became more determined to protect little girl--to the point of
possessiveness.
     Into the second week of this routine, Commander Sisko put
his foot down.  He couldn't afford for his medical officer to
operate at, what was obviously, less than peak efficiency.  And,
since they hadn't succeeded in placing the child in foster care,
there was no alternative but to turn her over to a resettlement
center, whatever the consequences.  Julian was despondent.  That
night Garak stopped by, to "loan him a splendid collection of
Cardassian poetry," and to express his displeasure that they
hadn't lunched together for over a week.
     Julian paced the room like a caged animal, trying
unsuccessfully to lull the baby into unconsciousness.  "Sorry,
Garak," he said, sarcastically, "but I've been rather busy."
     "Too busy to eat? Tsk, tsk, my dear Doctor," Garak chided. 
"If you don't take care of yourself, what good can you be to
anyone else."  He walked over to the replicator, and ordered a
bowl of Plomleek soup, with basil, and a cup of Tarkalean tea,
extra sweet.
     "Since when do you eat Vulcan soup, or drink tea, Garak?"
Julian was in no mood for games tonight.
     "Oh this isn't for me, Doctor," Garak continued spritely. 
"This is for you.  Now, no arguments," Garak said to stall any
objection.  He walked over and tenderly pried the baby from
Julian's aching arms.
     "Wait, Garak . . . be careful of her head . . ."
     "Really, Doctor, it's not as if I've never done this before. 
Go sit down and eat your soup."
     Julian started to protest the Cardassian's intrusion, but
the smell wafting over from the soup stirred his stomach, and he
remembered he was hungry.  He retrieved the food from the
replicator, and starting spooning it into his mouth before he
even sat down.
     "No need to hurry, Doctor, Garak said, looking perfectly
comfortable cradling the infant.  "Besides, I think the young
lady here is craving a little bit of Cardassia.  Maybe a story,
or a song."
     **She needs her mother**, Julian thought bitterly.  Instead,
he said, "Maybe you should read her some of that Cardassian
poetry.  Should do the trick."
     Garak amusingly ignored the doctor's sarcasm.  Julian
watched his friend silently while he polished off his meal.  "You 
look pretty natural there, Garak.  Is there something you'd like
to tell me?" he challenged the tailor.
     "What do you think?" Garak answered simply.
     Julian gave the Cardassian a tired smile, then turned his
attention to the empty bowl, fidgeting with the spoon.  Garak
understood his young friend's mood.  "You're worried about
sending her to the resettlement center."  Julian only nodded. 
"Perhaps," Garak continued, "you haven't considered all the
alternatives."
     The doctor let out an exasperated sigh.  "I tried to find
alternatives!  What do you think I've been doing for the past two
weeks?  There simply are no other alternatives."
     "My dear, Doctor," Garak countered softly.  "There are
always other alternatives."  The infant's crying abated, and
Garak carefully laid her in the makeshift bassinet that took up
one wall in the doctor's small living area.  "I think you should
sleep on it," he continued.  "Things may look altogether
different in the morning."
     Julian had no patience for the tailor's subterfuge tonight. 
He rubbed his eyes and tried to ignore him.  But Garak wasn't put
off.  "I think I will treat the child here to a little bedtime
story.  And, Doctor, you might find this fascinating as well."
     Julian groaned.  "Garak, I'm in no mood for Cardassian
stories tonight."
     "Ah, but this is a tale from *Bajoran* folklore.  I promise
you'll like it.  It's all about a monk, and a Cardassian soldier
. . ."

                              ***************

     Twenty-six hours later, Julian and Kira stood at the foot of
an unnamed mountainous region in the northwest peninsula of
Bajor.  Taking his cue from Garak, Julian had pressured Kira into
contacting the Kai's office about the monastery.  Winn proved
surprisingly helpful, and confirmed the location of the
Visionaries, and even provided the access code that would allow
them to enter the monastery grounds.  Kira punched in the code on
her data padd to release the low-grade force field at the
mountain's base.  "Cardassian design," she noted.  From here Kira
and Julian had been instructed to follow the trail leading up to
the top--a 2 1/2-hour trek by foot.
     The path was overgrown, and the terrain rocky.  Julian had
to take extra care due to the precious 8-pound cargo he carried
in a satchel on his back.
     "Is she going to be all right back there?" Kira asked, more
to break the uncomfortable silence they shared.  Julian had been
uncharacteristically quiet since they left DS9.
     "I think so."  His thoughts were conflicting, and they
preoccupied him.  On the one hand, he was glad they were not
going to have to send the infant to a resettlement center.  But,
he wondered how much happier she would be growing up in such a
sheltered environment--surrounded by people who would never see
her.  "Kira, I appreciate your company," he said sincerely.
"I know this is no day at the beach."
     "What?"
     He started to explain, but she cut him off, sensing what he
meant to say.  He was grateful for her presence, and that made 
Kira uneasy--and strangely delighted.  It was these conflicting
emotions she had in his company that caused her to keep him at
arm's length.  "I never pass up a chance to come home."  As if
that said it all.  "And besides, I always thought these people
were a myth--a legend.  It's not everyday I get to meet up with a
legend."
     "I know what you mean," he said.  "Garak told me Cardassian
defectors fled to the order in search of sanctuary.  The monks
would arrange safe passage away from the sector."
     "It's amazing how much Garak knows--about defectors."
     "Among other things," Julian agreed.
     The rest of the climb they spent in relative silence.  Until
finally they came to a clearing.  There they saw a simple stone
archway built up into a wall of trees.  Beyond this was a second
forcefield, and a path that led, presumably, to the monastery of
the Visionaries.  Standing in the arch stood a pale figure.  He
wore a simple grey robe, and his almost-white hair hung down
around his shoulders.  He wore no adornment on his right ear, as
was customary for Bajoran clergy.  His appearance was made all
the more ghostly by the sunken sockets where once there were
eyes.  Kira and Julian approached with some apprehension, and
stopped suddenly when the monk spoke.
     "Step back from the mark," was all he said.  They looked at
each other questioningly, then glanced down at the ground. 
Indeed where they stood was a stone marker.  Engraved there was
the symbol of Bajor, crossed by a Cardassian sword.  The
handiwork was beautifully intricate.  They both took a step back.
When they did, the blind monk slid his hand along the left pillar
>of the archway.  The forcefield dropped, and he gestured for the
two to come through.
     Julian and Kira followed in step behind their silent, blind
guide.  The path took twists and turns, and appeared to have no
end.  The foliage on either side was unchanging, and gave them no
indication as to how far they had come.  Suddenly the monk
stopped and turned to face them.
     "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, apparently indicating
their surroundings.  The question seemed ludicrous coming from
the one who asked it.  Neither Julian nor Kira knew how to
answer, or whether it would be appropriate to even try.
     "This is as far as you may go," the monk continued.  He gave
no sign as to whether he had expected them to respond.  "You must
leave the child with me here."
     A knot formed at the pit of Julian's stomach, and he had the
sudden urge to turn and escape this place.  Kira sensed his
reluctance, and moved in beside him to slip her hand in his. 
With a gentle squeeze she brought him around.  Julian allowed
Kira to help him remove the satchel from his back.  He gingerly
lifted the little girl out, and held her close against his chest. 
Then before his emotions could get the better of him,  he quickly
placed the baby into the arms of the sightless monk. 
     The monk asked him, "Has the child a name?"  
     The question took Julian by surprise. "Uh, yes," he
stammered.  "Um, Julia."  He looked sheepishly at Kira, but she
only smiled back at him.
     "A beautiful name, for a beautiful child," was all he said.
"Be assured we will care well for Julia.  But now you must go. 
Follow the path back the way you came, and never set foot upon
the marker.  And remember, the main forcefield will reactivate in
three hours."  With no other ceremony he turned, and retreated
further along the pathway.  Kira and Julian stood there until the
monk was out of their sight.  Then they started back toward the
archway that would lead them out of the sanctuary.
     As they made their way quickly along the trail they passed
two elderly men coming the other way.  The men walked slowly, and
held onto each other's arm to steady themselves.  Both wore 
the same simple grey robes as had the guide.  Their faces were so
weathered with age that the ocular scarring was almost
unnoticeable.  They spoke not at all, and without pausing in
their gait, only nodded to Julian and Kira.  Unconsciously, and
with some reverence, the two nodded in return to the Bajoran and
the Cardassian.
     Then without another glance back, they slipped through the
archway, and hurriedly made their way back down the rough and
slippery mountain trail.         

THE END

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