The station rocked under Odo’s feet. He knew from past experience that no matter how updated, DS9 was still not equipped to handle an attack of such determined intensity. If only there were some way to send him back where he belonged…
He had once tried to go somewhere he had not belonged by using a transporter that operated on electrons in quantum flux. If they could use protons in the same state, as a weapon aimed at Odoital’s ship, perhaps it would be enough to send him back where he belonged.
Odo worked away at his console, reconfiguring the phasers. They would only have one shot. Any more, and it could cause a spatial rift. He relayed his plans, and aimed at the ship. He was the one who had to fire this shot, to put to rest the horror he had caused.
And so, with one steady finger, he pressed the key that unleashed the proton beam.
The beam penetrated the ship’s shields easily as the protons phased between quantum states. The ship bore little damage but the effect was clear.
Floating dead in space, Odoital’s ship had lost all ability to function as it seemed to momentarily disappear sporadically. As she drifted away from the station, the tension seemed to drop…and yet, Odo could not help but wonder what would happened if she drifted too close…
The wormhole opened in its usual foray of color. Pulled by the gravitational force, Odoital’s ship entered the wormhole…
…and disappeared into a universe where Death had gained rule and nothing existed. Odoital realized all too soon that this was not his universe. To be condemned to a place where the only order was chaos and the only substance was nothingness.
Odoital laughed insanely, easily seeing the irony in his predicament.
It seemed the gods had a sense of poetic justice after all.
(-|-)
Despite its alien configuration and complicated circuitry, O’Brien had surprisingly little trouble cobbling a device that would enable their “borrowed” Jem’Hadar warship to realign its quantum signature enough to make the return trip home. Of course, the device would short out after their first (and only) trip through the wormhole. (O’Brien was slightly annoyed that he hadn’t worked out that particular bug yet, but figured it was probably for the best.) The Bareils were ready to leave as soon as he had finished the alterations – after all, they had left their two young sons in their own universe.
Odo was waiting at the docking bay when they arrived to board the jerryrigged warship (which had been affectionately dubbed the “Ruby Slipper.”) He seemed a bit uncomfortable, but seemed equally determined to see them off properly.
“Kai Bareil, it was a pleasure to have known you,” Odo cordially said, offering the Bajoran his hand. The other man took it, a bit gingerly, but met his eyes frankly.
“Likewise, Mr. Odo.”
There seemed to be little more to say; by unspoken mutual agreement all past hostilities had been forgotten.
“Bye, Mr. Odo. I’ll miss you.” Jatira came up to him, then surprised him wholeheartedly by throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. After a moment, Odo responded in kind.
“Take care of yourself, Mr. Odo. And your kids too.”
Odo frowned in puzzlement at that last remark, but because he had never informed Jatira of the fact that he had no children dismissed it.
“Good bye, Jaty. Good Luck.”
Jatira hurried up to catch up to her father, who had already boarded the Ruby Slipper.
“Well,” Nerys said as she approached Odo, an aire of uncertainty hovering around her features.
“Well,” Odo responded, unsure of how he was supposed to say good-bye.
“Listen, Odo, I know I haven’t exactly returned your friendship in kind lately, but I want you to know that I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done, both for me and my family. I… I just hope you know that you’ll never be forgotten.”
Odo was overwhelmed with emotion, and could feel tears welling up in his eyes.
“Thank you,” was all he could manage.
Then, with a kiss on the cheek, Nerys was gone.
Again.
(-|-)
Odo returned to their home. It would always be theirs, whether she was there or not. He would always have his memories, and now with his adopted daughter (whom he had affectionately named Jatira), he could make some new memories. But first, he had a little work to do. There were numerous messages, most of them condolences. The fact that they were all addressed to him seemed odd. First Ministers received a lot of messages, but he had rarely received any. One was titled “Look at this one, Odo.” Odo was still a bit of an infant, and so he looked. He couldn’t help it; curiosity begged him to.
“Hello, Odo…” Not Bashir again, thought Odo. “…No, wait. This one’s different.” Bashir’s face struggled on the screen. “Nerys gave me something for you. She…she didn’t want you stumbling across it before…well, anyways. She wasn’t a fool, Odo; she knew she was dying, was ready to face it.” Odo remembered their last conversation. Nerys had seemed anything but ready. “…She recorded this message about four months before she died. I don’t know what exactly she said, but I think it’s supposed to help.” Then Bashir’s face disappeared. Odo paused the message. He wasn’t sure if he could face her, the real her. And yet, he had to know what she had said, what she had wanted him to hear. He unpaused the message and braced himself.
“Hi, Odo.” There was a pause, and Nerys seemed to be searching for the words that would not come. “I asked Julian to give this to you after I had died. I know you, Odo. You can’t let my death cheat your life. I’m serious, Odo. You have to move on. Don’t forget me; don’t you dare forget me.” At this, both Nerys and Odo smiled. The cynicism was still there. “But you’ve got a home, a life here on Bajor. I want you to live for those things.
“There’s something I never told you, Odo. Now seems like the only time. When Bareil died…” Nerys’ voice steeled itself. “…I resented a lot of people. Winn, the Cardassians, even Bashir a little bit. But, I also resented you.” Again Nerys paused, and Odo reversed the message to make sure his ears had not deceived him. Then he waited for Nerys to continue. “I resented you because after Bareil died, you distanced yourself from me. That little incident after Prophet’s Landing didn’t help either. You were one of the few people I could talk to back then, and then all of a sudden you weren’t around. And then…” Nerys looked away, a smile playing on her lips. “…then you told me for the first time that you loved me, and all that changed. Bit by bit, it changed.” Odo smiled. And yet, as he remembered that day, a mixture of emotions flooded him. “But, Odo, there’s something else that I never told you. That’s the true reason for this message. I love you, Odo, you know that. But, I’ve never forgotten Bareil; I loved him too much to forget him. After he died, I shut down my heart, determined not to let anybody else in. But, eventually, I learned that that wasn’t the thing to do. It wasn’t fair to Bareil; it wasn’t fair to me.
“Odo, you were always learning from everybody else. Don’t stop now. You don’t have to forget me to move on, but you must move on. Please, honey, for me…Keep in touch with Julian and Jadzia, maybe try to fix them up. Jadzia’s the one you’ll have to convince, but they deserve each other…” She stopped, at a loss for words. “Good-bye.” She paused again, struggling to keep her voice steady and ignoring her tears. “May the Prophets walk with you, my love.” And the screen went blank. Odo hung his head in thought. He didn’t know if he could do what Nerys asked of him. But before he had a chance to lower himself into a contemplative state, the screen blinked on again.
“Oh, and, sweetheart? Better make sure you find someone who likes their Kadellan sauce watered down.” She flashed one last smile and faded from the screen forever.
Odo ended the message silently, and looked at the remaining message. It was from the adoption agency inquiring about the finalization procedures. …but you must move on. Please, honey, for me. Perhaps, perhaps he wouldn’t be able to find another mate, but he would have someone he could love, someone who would allow him to move on and yet never forget.
(-|-)
“Pel dor joi, Doctor!”
“Pel dor joi to you too, Odo. Looks like a fabulous party.”
“Well, hopefully it will help the salt from the wound.”
“But will it help the wound?”
“Oh, I doubt that, Julian. I doubt that. That’s one wound not even the best doctor in the universe can fix.”
“Well, I did try,” chuckled Julian. Odo smiled, genuinely, for the first time in a long time.
“I’m glad to see you’re doing better, Odo,” said Julian, genuine.
“So am I, to hear you say that especially,” said Odo, cynicism starting to creep into his tone.
“Why?” questioned Bashir.
“Because,” injected Jadzia, “now he can finally get you to leave.”
“Ha, ha, Jadzia. Very funny.” Bashir never could get used to being the brunt of so many jokes.
The festival lasted a few hours at Odo’s before everyone began to start saying their good-byes. Julian approached Odo.
“Well, I guess I won’t be seeing you for awhile.”
“I hope you’re wrong, Julian.” The two friends shook hands, communicating so much more than words ever could. Then Julian addressed the entire room.
“Well, I really must be going,” he sighed dramatically. “I’m sure they can’t get along without me any longer at the Cherry Colony. Pel dor joi, everyone.”
And then, as he turned to go, a deafening chorus of voices replied with one word that made Doctor Julian Subatoi Bashir cringe:
“Ch’ari!”
~The End~