This is an amateur, non-commercial story, which is not produced, approved of, or in any way sponsored by the holders of the trademarks/copyrights from which this work is derived, nor is it intended to infringe on the rights of these holders. And so it goes.


A Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Tale
by Jeff Morris

So tired.  So much effort just to keep his eyes open, to stave off the inevitable for just a few moments more. But it had to be done, it wasn’t quite time, so Dax sighed softly and stared up into the harsh ceiling lights that all but blinded him. It wouldn’t be long; he could afford to be patient for once.

There was no fear of what was to come; he’d been through this enough to know that death was simply death, no more, no less. And frankly, he was damned irritated that it had taken so long to get here.  One got quickly tired of the pain and the gradual loss of abilities he’d taken for granted over the course of his long life.  And to have to be tended and cared for like some mewling infant, surrounded by well-meaning idiots with pitiful, compassionate expressions and saccharine-coated encouragements...he snorted to himself, relieved that all that nonsense was finally over.  Time to move on.

There were no regrets.  He’d had a long, adventurous life, filled with a million memories and experiences that would forever be his. And all the people he’d known, all his friends and lovers...he smiled inwardly, thinking of what was to come for them.  The usual confusion, followed by realization and embarrassment.  And there were a few cases where it might be fun to not give out the secret too soon...heh.

“Curzon...” With a terrible effort, the old man inched his head around until he could see the young woman lying on the nearby table.  Oh, she was a lovely thing, he thought to himself with a trace of lusty regret—pity he’d given her such a hard time a few years back.  And who’d have thought it, that a candidate he’d soundly rejected would end up here? 

He remembered when it was himself lying there, watching and waiting, knowing what was to come and feeling more than a little apprehensive about the whole thing. They could tell you all about what it was like, but until you’d experienced it, you could never be sure. If only she knew what was to come, the sheer wonder of it all!

Curzon smiled to himself, knowing that she’d think of it as gentle encouragement...and really, that was all right.  Everything was all right now.

Shadows loomed over him abruptly, and he knew it was time.  He wanted to growl, “About damned time!” but it just seemed like so much effort for so little reward that he simply lay there and let them work. He felt a gentle tickle of cool air brush against his skin—so strange to feel it after so long—and with an effort he pulled himself up and away, letting the doctors free him from his old self.

The empty loneliness momentarily overwhelmed him, and so he was barely aware of his passage over to the other table and the young woman who awaited him.  But the terrible ache was enough to spur him eagerly on as they slipped him into place; he quickly settled in and reached out with body and soul to the frightened child.

She stared up at the ceiling, overwhelmed with the sheer, vibrant energy that raced through her body.  Oh, it had been so long since she’d felt like this!  Her mind raced wildly through thought after young, so alive!

She abruptly realized that someone was talking to her.  “Jadzia?” the doctor was saying, peering down at her with intense scrutiny.

She smiled brightly.  “Dax,” she corrected him. “Jadzia Dax.”