738: Sage Advice

by Dane Cristiane
90110.16
Hours after Morning
Soundtrack: Name, by the Goo Goo Dolls

-=/\=-


-=Orphanage at the Monastery at Altaan, Bajor=-

A year ago when Dane had arrived aboard the USS Serendipity, the list of things he hated was long, and the list of things he liked was short.

Climbing the rankings to the pinnacle that represented top of that extensive 'hate' list were these half dozen things:

Small children

Being around sick people

Preachers

Smug Starfleet Rank and File officers

Cops,

and

Zanh Liis

In that order from least hated to most, Zanh Liis topped the list.

He couldn't believe how much things had changed.

Now here he was, after only a year on the job, managing to not only hold himself together and conduct himself as a professional and an officer, but could do so surrounded by small children, in the middle of an infectious disease outbreak at a religious sanctuary and while working with several of the same 'rank and file 'fleet types' he'd considered so annoying.

Looking back, he realized that his defining moment had come after spending more time than he cared to in another hospital facility- such as it was- the so called The Farm on Klaestron where Carrick O'Sullivan had been held against his will.

Dane thought again about his former opinion of his crewmates on the Serendipity, and shook his head with disbelief when thinking that he now counted those same Officers he'd treated with such disrespect and regarded with such disdain as the people he now thought the most of.

He'd also been changed by the sight of death and the experience of grieving.

Yes, he'd seen people die. He'd seen destruction and suffering. He'd seen people struggle and overcome things he never imagined anyone could.

He'd overcome things he never thought he could.

Living the experiences of the Paradox and understanding how different everything could be, he had learned not only humility in the past year as well, but additionally when he should just shut the hell up and thank whatever Powers May Be for the fact the people he cared about were still breathing.

The fact he cared if anyone beside himself was still breathing was also a shock to Dane. Let alone the fact he cared if those same people, who he had been certain at several points had been created by the gods (if such things existed) merely to torment him, was the most astounding thing of all.

It was amazing how his feelings had changed toward the two most influential figures in his daily life. Not only was he most altered by his relationship with a by-the-book Irish cop, Dane was now well on his way to becoming a sort of law enforcement officer himself.

Then, there was her.

She.

It.

The woman he had referred to internally for so long as merely 'that insufferable bitch'.

That's how he'd really thought of her, back then, and to think of it now, he felt great shame.

Standing in the middle of a small room before an even smaller altar at the orphanage where she'd been raised, he began to grasp just what her life had been, and how far she'd had to go to become who she was today.

She was, he understood now, someone he barely knew at all. That was a situation that would have to be remedied.

Thinking back to the prayers she'd taught him for the undercover mission during which he'd pretended to be Bajoran, Dane bowed his head as he stood by the altar, and repeated the words he'd learned by rote.

"Jia'kaja, tre'nu'tol'a rem,"

"Young Mister Cristiane, is it?" A thin and frail voice, belonging to an even thinner and more fail elderly man, interrupted him.

Dane raised his eyes respectfully to meet Timal's.

"Vedek, Sir, are you meant to be up and round alone?"

"Don't fuss over me, Dane. You're as bad as that Doctor Adams. She is lovely but she certainly expects to have her way when she's made up her mind."

"Be glad she does. She insisted upon having her way that the fever would not," Dane stopped.

"Yes. Yes indeed. I suppose you're right." Timal wandered forward. He seemed a little bit puzzled, as if he had come into the room with a specific purpose in mind but now couldn't remember just what it was. "I must say, Dane, you've made quite an impression on the inhabitants of our humble sanctuary."

Dane's face immediately turned scarlet. "Sir?"

"Not only the young Milea, who can talk of little else but this 'Starfleet called Dane' but our female Prylar population...half a dozen young Acolytes..." Timal smiled gently. "Oh, to be your age again. Just for a day or two."

"I'd like to have your wisdom, Sir, and experience," Dane answered aloud, before he could stop himself. ”Maybe we could trade places for awhile.”

Timal laughed softly, wistfully. "Don't be in such a hurry to grow old, Dane. Your time will come before you know it. Time goes by..." he sighed, slumping down onto a small chair which, though meant for a child, had no trouble supporting his fragile frame. "It goes by faster than you can imagine. You've made good use of your time, though, especially the past year. Wouldn't you agree?"

Dane was growing truly troubled by how much this miniscule sage of a being seemed to know about him. Again all he could do was answer with one word of question. "Sir?"

"Don't be so surprised, young man. I've heard a great deal about you, you know. From Jariel. Even from Zanh Liis, truthfully. She writes to me on occasion. Not as often as I'd like, mind you. But at least she does try."

"She's a busy woman." Dane replied, "Been a rough year for her."

"So I'm told." Timal looked up as Dane stood before him respectfully at a position he'd picked up from watching TC Blane; the stance known as Parade Rest.

The Vedek licked his dry, thin lips and turned now to Dane for answers that he had been unwilling and unable to ask of Jariel.

"How is Zanh Liis faring, young Dane? Is she," Timal worried, always, that Zanh was in fact her own worst enemy. She seemed hell bent on causing her own destruction somehow ever since her youth. He knew that for years, Jariel had tried to be a stabilizing force in her life. Now that their paths had diverged, he wondered just how Zanh would manage to walk the tightrope on her own without falling to her death.

"Sir, Zanh Liis is," Dane laughed softly, thinking of Keiran and Liis dancing under the fireworks after their wedding, and the home O'Sullivan had built her upon the peaceful hills of their land. "...married."

Timal's eyebrows elevated to the point of appearing to be suspended in mid-air, above his forehead.

"Married?" He felt first shocked, and then pleased, and then, overwhelming concerned for Camen. "Does...everyone know?"

"Everyone except Vedek Jariel's friend, Fleur," Dane replied, choosing his words carefully. "I believe he's picking his moment in which to tell her."

Timal nodded, and slapped a hand down on his knee in amazement. The gesture worried Dane, he expected the man to shatter like glass from the force of his own motion. "Married. Zanh Liis. I don't believe it. I never thought I'd see the day."

"You can see the day, you know, if you'd like," Dane offered. "The event was recorded on vid files, you can view them on the new communications station we installed in your office."

"Oh that thing. I don't think I'll ever learn how to use it. I'm too old for such gadgetry."

"Nonsense!" Dane moved toward the man and offered his arm. "I can take you there right now and teach you how, in five minutes."

"I heard that your ship has been recalled to Earth," Timal answered, not wanting to monopolize the young officer's time. "You must have things to do."

"It's all done now. Until Doctor Hartcort returns, we can't leave. So we're just holding." He assisted the man, helping him stand as Timal struggled to rise from the low seat he'd taken. "I'd be pleased to show you."

"I would..." Timal admitted slowly, "Like to see Zanh Liis on her wedding day."

"You will. I'll show you."

Entering Timal's office, Dane escorted the man to the desk and made sure he was safely and comfortably seated before turning his attention to the monitor. "It has a voice interface. All you have to do, really, is ask it to access the files that you want . Go ahead, try it."

"Hello, yes. Computer?" Timal concentrated, wrinkles upon more wrinkles furrowing his wizened brow. "I'd like to see a video file please."

^Please specify parameters.^ The computer asked politely. Timal's eyes grew large and he looked to Dane for help.

"Computer, access general directory, and search for still images of Zanh Liis."

The computer beeped cheerfully. Dane smiled as Timal looked at him with wonder.

"I thought that, since she grew up here, that someone might want to see what she looked like in her wedding dress.” Dane explained, ”So I took the liberty of transferring the data files from my personal database on the Alchemy into the system here when we brought it online. I hope that wasn't presumptuous."

"Not at all," Timal watched as images too small for his aging eyes to make out began to display, one after another, in rows on the computer screen. "Can you make them bigger?"

"Of course. Any one in particular?"

"Just, show me one that you like."

"All right. Computer, enlarge image twenty-seven alpha, maximum resolution." The computer chirped, and the image of Liis and Keiran standing before TC Blane during the Loving Cup toast at the reception, joy on both their faces, appeared.

"I know that man!" Timal's brittle fingertip tapped the surface of the screen. "That's Commander Blane. He came here last year, to help install the replicator. He's a fine man."

"That's right. He was a witness to the wedding, and here was offering a salute to the bride and groom in keeping with the traditions of the groom’s homeland."

Timal leaned closer, zeroing in on the image of Zanh Liis. He'd never seen her dressed in such finery before, nor had he ever seen her eyes look the way that they looked in this photograph. "Can you show me another? A picture of just the couple, perhaps?"

"Of course." Dane selected an image from the ceremony, in which they had just exchanged rings and were looking directly at each other.

"Tell me, young Dane, about this man that Zanh Liis has married." Timal now sounded every bit the father figure that he'd been to Zanh, and he folded pencil-thin arms across his tiny chest. "He is a good man?"

"Yes, he is," Dane had never said anything in his life with more conviction. "A very good man."

"She looks so..." Timal debated the rest of his sentence for so long that Dane jumped in.

"Yeah, I have to admit, she cleans up pretty well."

"I was going to say she looked happy, but you're right. She did look lovely that day."

Timal suddenly turned away from the panel, and rose on his own. He walked to the window, and stared out. "But then, she comes from a line of beautiful women. It's not surprising that she took after them."

"You knew Zanh Liis' family?" Dane was surprised. He didn't think anyone knew much of anything about Zanh's relatives. "Did you know her grandmother? She speaks of her often. In fact, she's taken to wearing the woman's earring. Her name was,"

"Anian Naloy," Timal whispered, still staring out at the snow as it continued to fall over the land beyond his window. "Before that, it was Jardin Naloy."

Dane remembered that, he'd used that surname during the same undercover operation he'd been thinking of earlier. "You knew Naloy well?"

"We grew up together." The way the man said the words, he needed to say nothing more. Dane's eyes flew open wide.

"She was everything that Zanh has told you, and more." Timal continued. "It is a pity that Liis did not get to know her better. Liis' memories of Naloy are those of a child. Mine are those of someone who admired her from the time she was a child, until the day that she left this life to join the Prophets in the Celestial Temple. I am certain she is looking down upon us now. Watching over all of us." He turned back to Dane. "Perhaps this is why Liis has finally found peace, with this...what is his name? You never told me."

"Keiran," Dane answered softly. "His name is Keiran O'Sullivan."

"I shall have to send them my congratulations. I hope one day I will get to meet this Keiran O'Sullivan who managed to capture Zanh Liis."

"I think it was she who captured him first, Sir. After that, he just couldn't forget her."

"Again, this is no wonder to me. The women of Zanh Liis' family, Dane," Timal smiled gently, "are as unforgettable as they are beautiful."

He saw the look in Dane's eyes change, and realized instantly that the boy had a girl on his mind as well- one he himself was trying, but finding impossible, to forget.

"Don't hold back, Dane, if you care for her, who ever she may be," Timal instructed. He approached Dane, his bones creaking audibly in the silence of the room with each step he took.

He placed spindly fingers upon Dane's biceps. "Don't leave anything unsaid between you. If you do, I promise you, you will regret it."

Timal's eyes were glistening, and Dane coughed at the sensation of the rising lump in his throat.

"Sir, I...should see if I can raise Doctor Hartcort to find out when they're coming back. Admiral Lassiter was specific in her orders for us to depart as soon as was possible."

"Of course. Thank you, for everything you've done here. You'll always have friends at Altaan."

Dane thanked the man, and made his way back to the Alchemy. As he stood outside, he took in the view of the scattered stone buildings that made up the compound where Zanh Liis had lived out her childhood.

There was so much he didn't know about his captain.

There was so much that, suddenly, he wanted to know.

-----------------------------

Ensign Dane Cristiane
Communications Officer
USS Serendipity/Alchemy
About to depart Bajor, bound for Earth