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“Alone?” Their contact looked positively distraught. His skin shimmered, sunlight reflecting off what looked like microscopic scales. Reptilian species weren’t rare, but it had been a while since Kira had encountered one that wasn’t the Cardassians. “Out here?”
Kira bristled. “We’re perfectly fine, thank you.” She resisted the urge to list the amount of Federation technology the newest wormhole travellers were trying to weasel out of them in this first conference alone. The kind of double standard they’d need to think they were harmless was nothing short of outstanding. “And I’m not alone.”
The representative’s eyes flickered. As far as Kira could guess he was staring at the distance between Dax and herself with horror or something similar. It felt like they were teetering on the edge of diplomatic disaster, which was exhausting to think about after a half-minute conversation. If Bajor didn’t need allies so badly… “You have nobody else with you?"
There was a moment of tension-wrought silence. The representative’s eyes seemed close to popping out of his skull, if not for the delicate purple-tinged second eyelid still in place. Kira dreaded to think how sunny and sandy their planet had to be to evolve that evolutionary quirk.
Dax made a tiny sound, like an aha, then sat up straighter in her seat. Her hand crossed the console to find Kira’s. The movement was so surprising that Kira didn’t move away, instead frowning over at her copilot. What was Dax up to now?
“Oh, we’re married.” Dax said it like it meant nothing, flashing one of her people-pleaser smiles at the delegate. Her words were so meshed in confusion that Kira didn’t even compute for a moment. Dax gripped her hand tight, Kira still frozen in disbelief as she continued. “Sorry, the translator didn’t quite get your question in the first place.”
“Ah!” All of a sudden, the unease in the representative’s voice evaporated. He spread his many-fingered hands, evidently a welcoming gesture. Reminded of her own hand, Kira yanked it free. He didn’t seem to notice. “Of course. Welcome!”
The transmission blinked out, leaving the shuttle to finish its long-range scan in quiet contentment. Kira wasn’t near as calm. “What the hell, Dax?"
“We’re landing in less than five minutes. Is this an argument we can have that fast?” Jadzia raised an eyebrow. Her finger tapped at one of the flashing readouts from the scan. “I’d love to argue with you about this later, but we need to be getting inside. There’s an ion storm headed this way and I’d rather not get caught in it."
“Dax!” Kira hissed, but the insufferable creature ignored her.
“If you want to argue about this later, we can arrange that.” The ship jolted in the atmosphere, and Kira abandoned her glare to get her console working again. “Can you stabilize the plasma flow converters? I don’t think this planet agrees with them.”
Kira leaned in to her control panel. The inertial dampeners were going slightly, but she had more important things to worry about than her teeth chattering. “Got it. But we are talking about this later.”
There was that pilot’s set in Dax’s shoulders, the one Kira had seen breifly in Bashir during the zhian’tara. “Whatever you say, wife.”
“Jadzia!”
“Sorry.” But she didn’t sound it.
Their accidental adventure down and around a warped timeline a few months earlier may have netted them an absence from a dozing dinner with an Admiral, but Kira got the distinct impression the Prophets were laughing at her. If anything, this dinner was worse than dealing with a tiring Starfleet admiral ever could have been. They at least had some measure of respect for what Bajor had been through.
This whole dinner was mined with small talk. They wanted to get to know the new species from just across the wormhole. Kira was tempted to tell them to stick their flat little noses where the sun didn’t shine, but that would be quite a trek on a planet like this, locked in synchronous orbit with their red dwarf star. Only an aggressive ozone layer and a powerful magnetosphere had allowed life to survive on the planet — they’d been warned not to spend too much time outside or risk severe burns in short periods of time. Kira had been fine with that, until she realized she’d have to spend all of her non-meetings time with Dax. Who she was pretending to be married to.
“What was your ceremony like?” The representative — Kira had yet to bother to remember his name. Dax would remember for her if it mattered — had become practically fawning in the light of Dax’s revelation. Kira didn’t know what cultural connotations they’d gotten mixed up in, and she didn’t particularly want to know. Starfleet might’ve been tripping over themselves to learn about new worlds and new cultures, but it was hard enough trying to pull their own culture back from the ashes. Prophets, if she’d had half the easy upbringing of this Delvanian sea slug—
Dax smiled, the one again with just enough false levity over it that Kira could see the lies underneath it. She aligned her leg with Jadzia’s under the table, as much comfort as she could offer in this kind of odd public circumstance. Her almost-wife’s smile tilted into reality along the edges. “Oh, it was—“
“Small.” Kira blurted. Everyone’s eyes turned to her, Jadzia’s included. Her throat burned. After all these years, she’d think she’d learn when to hold her tongue. “In our- where I come from, it’s not the ceremony that matters. It’s why you wanted to do it.”
Jadzia’s leg pressed close to hers, and Kira could have sworn a comforting hand brushed at her knee under the table. “We wouldn’t want to bore you.” Dax gestured at her plate instead, not moving away from Kira in the slightest. “What’s this purple item? It reminds me of a delicacy called gagh, from back in our quadrant."
Jadzia had been quiet enough for their walk under the shaded boardwalks back to the shuttle, only recalling a tale or two about similar species Lela had encountered, back in the original days of Trill space exploration. Sleeping in the shuttle was a relief, at least. The bunks may have been cramped, but Kira wouldn’t be forced to sleep over in the aliens’ compound in a single bed. She wouldn't put much past them at this point. Their lives seemed to revolve around the business of others. Quark would have adored them.
The door hissed closed behind them, and Kira tossed her duffel full of welcome gifts onto the floor next to her chair. The cool air was a relief after a day staring out at the baking sands. The Quedaven hadn’t put much thought into the needs of other, mammalian species when they were designing their diplomatic compounds. They seemed apologetic about it, but they’d also seemed like reasonable people before being appalled that Kira wasn’t married, so she wasn’t much for trusting them at this point.
The gifts left a strange taste in her mouth. She never knew how to take gifts from alien cultures. Sometimes they were harmless, but other times they carried expectations with them. She’d had more than enough expectations from the Cardassians to last a lifetime.
"What you said about marriage ceremonies, was that a lie?" Jadzia left plenty of room for a refusal to answer. Kira watched her settle in the other chair and key the shuttle’s shutters closed. The darkness would be welcome. “Or is that something you’ve experienced?"
"How much pomp and circumstance do you think the Cardassians allowed?" Kira snorted, bitter. "None. You were lucky if you got a gathering in the hills. They didn't like it when we married. That meant we meant something to each other. To them it was an insult — we thought we were people!" Kira's shoulders were so square they ached under her red uniform. She was Bajor when she was here, not herself. "You were married if you wanted to be. That was what mattered."
Jadzia hummed quietly. It was something she’d been doing more and more since she’d discovered the musician Joran living under her skin. ”So when Ensign Alar said they were going to have a traditional Bajoran wedding..."
"They meant tradition from the times before." As far as Kira was concerned, those times were gone. Relics. Like the d'jarras. War had stripped Bajoran traditions down, yes, but what was left behind was what the Prophets intended there to be. The intention, the presence of family, that was what held meaning, not the grandeur and flowers and elegant speeches. Kira didn’t begrudge people the chance to celebrate, but the traditional ceremonies always felt empty to her. It wasn’t hers. “Some families embrace our history more than others."
Jadzia nodded, her face drawn in shadow as the shutters locked down. “I see."
“So you can’t just—“ Kira threw her arms in the air. In the safety of the shuttle, her outrage at the situation was flooding back to her. It wasn’t entirely about Dax’s words, and more about the gazes she’d been receiving all day. Knowing ones, little winks whenever she stood close enough to Jadzia that they’d accidentally touch. They didn’t know anything. “I can’t believe you told them we were married!"
Dax had turned her chair, now that they were in private. Her arms were crossed loosely under her chest, her uniform unzipped halfway to show an expanse of blue-grey undershirt. “I’ve heard lots of Earth’s primitive history, through Benjamin. In many parts of the world, unmarried women needed responsible escorts, chaperones to make sure they didn’t get into any ah, trouble when they were out and about.” Jadzia’s eyes flashed, and Kira could read all sorts of definitions of trouble in them. "Not to say all cultures are the same, but even through the wormhole they tend to share similarities. I took a guess. It would have been easy enough to blame it on another translator error if they reacted badly.”
“Couldn't you have just- you’re ancient! Why couldn’t you have been the chaperone?” Not that she’d make much of a good one. The Trill was more likely to wander off and find herself surrounded at a bar than keep them out of trouble.
Though she did seem to know how to avoid it, when she pleased. Dax had an eye for things like that, just like the Captain. It was almost a sixth sense — they could always see when something was about to head into chaos before it reached the tipping point. Kira didn’t know if Dax had taught it to Sisko, back in her days as Curzon, but it was an uncanny skill they both shared. Along with being irritating, though Jadzia was better at that than Sisko. Practice, Kira guessed.
Jadzia gave her a tired smile. “Did you really want to get into a conversation about Trill biology while they were holding us at a heavily armed checkpoint?”
“I don’t want to have had to argue with them in the first place.” It could have been worse, but Kira’s skin was still crawling. The Quedaven didn’t have the neck ridges, but the scales alone were enough to make them hit her Cardassian warning bells. “Marriage? Really?”
Dax hummed another tuneless handful of notes. Her eyes were still entirely Jadzia, though, pretty and watchful. “Why are you so uncomfortable with it?”
Kira waved a dismissive hand. “Look, Dax, I know you’re—“
“Nerys.” Jadzia’s voice was soft and serious.
Kira bit off the rest of her sentence before it impaled someone. She clamped her hands to her sides. “What?”
Jadzia shrugged and swivelled her seat back around. Her hands stroked absently across the controls of the shuttle, though it was powered down for the night. “It’s fine. Next time, I’ll go for chaperone. I’ll bring along a selection of PADDs and everything.”
Kira’s words died on her tongue. She stared at Dax’s pale hands, laying in imaginary courses in the shuttle’s empty controls. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to pass up a chance to educate an alien race.”
Jadzia’s fingers paused, right over the button that would have started the impulse engines. “Did you want some hasperat? I bribed a good replicator pattern off Quark last week."
Kira blinked at the back of her head for a moment, caught off guard. How could she always do that? “All right.” A pause, and Kira deliberately unclenched her fists. “Thanks.”
Dax spun around again, a grin back on her face. Her long legs made quick work of the distance to the replicator. “Thank Quark. He’s the one who keeps losing all his latinum at tongo.”
It was halfway through their midday respite when Kira got curious enough to ask her question. The sun burned down into the sand a few metres in front of them, the temperature barely cooler under their shade structure. The heat was making her silly, that was the problem. Even summers in Dahkur province didn’t get this hot. “What’s marriage like?"
Dax considered that, and sidestepped. “I’ve been married a number of times before, at least-"
Kira threw a lazy handful of sand into Dax’s lap. “Yes, a dozen times as a man and a dozen times as a woman, I know.”
“Considerably less than that, thank you.” She moved her shoulder, jolting Kira’s head. Kira groaned, and leant on her more. As far as Kira was aware, Trills didn’t run any cooler than Bajorans, but it was a respite to lean against Dax anyway. It was something to focus on, other than the heat. “It’s different every time.”
Kira squinted out at the sand, and closed her eyes so she didn’t have to look at it anymore. She’d never been more grateful that her home base was a space station. When she got back, she’d never have to see sand ever again, and even Cardassian stations didn’t get this hot. “I don’t suppose I could ask you to pick a favourite, for the sake of a story?”
Dax made a thoughtful noise. “Not a favourite, no. But one of them is still alive.”
Abstractly, Kira felt jealous. Jadzia was her wife for the weekend. She’d asked for a story, but she’d meant one of the older ones. The ones that read more as a curiosity than a memory. She cracked her eyes open to stare up at Dax, watch the gentle play of emotions across her face. “Another symbiont, then?”
Dax sighed deeply, her shoulder shifting again beneath Kira’s head. “Kahn. She was Nilani at the time. Torias adored her. More than his ships, even. Most of the time, at least.” Dax stared off into the distance, like Nilani Kahn would form out of an oasis. “I didn’t listen to her on the last day, though. I died in a shuttle crash, far too early."
Kira turned that over in her mind, the sorrow that must have been to wake up as a whole new self and have an entire life vanished out from underneath you. “Do you ever think of going off to marry them again?”
“Hmm?” Dax almost sounded surprised. “Oh. No. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. We aren’t allowed to reassociate with old partners, on pain of exile. That would mean I would be the last Dax."
Kira’s fingers dug into the sand, grit catching under her nails. “What? That’s-“
Jadzia pried her hand up out of the ground, and her touch lingered far beyond her grip releasing. “It’s too hot out to get into the intricacies of Trill taboo. I can send you a treatise on it when we get back to the station, if you still care by then."
Kira sighed too. It had been a bad question to ask, she’d known, but she’d been unbearably curious. “This trip is just full of postponed conversations, isn’t it?"
Jadzia drew circles in the sand in front of them, never an artist. Tension settled into her. “Maybe there’s one that we can do now, then.”
“Oh?” Kira turned her head into Dax’s shoulder, itching at her delicate nose. “What conversation would that be? About you taking an age in the sonic shower?”
Kira had expected Jadzia to respond with some rebuttal along the lines of longer hair needing longer care, but the other woman was silent. She lifted her head, her body still slumped into Jadzia’s, the cool sand shifting underneath them. “Jadzia?”
“You know, I don’t think it would be the end of the world if you did want to marry me. Or anything that would come before that.”
There was something careful about her words, measured and refined in a way that Kira ached to hear. It was the same cadence that had been in her words when she’d talked to the welcoming committee earlier, when they’d first stepped off the ship, her hand resting lightly on the small of Kira’s back. It was the kind of voice that told her Jadzia was expecting to need to take a step back at any moment.
Dax always offered a chance to back away, a chance to say no, a chance to ignore. Kira could have taken any of them — postponed the conversation for a time when they weren’t sweating in the shade of an alien planet with at least one pair of eyes resting on them.
Instead, Kira reached up to cup Jadzia’s cheek. She turned to face Kira, her cheeks flushed with the heat, her hair frizzing slightly out of its ponytail. All of a sudden, Kira wanted to see her disheveled entirely, and that want was enough to drive her forward.
Colours burned behind her eyes, the desert sun reflecting off the sand and the gentle pressure of Jadzia’s hand cupping her arm. Jadzia kissed like she knew every world and star and could distill it down into a single moment, sand under her fingers and a smile pressed to her lips.
Kira came back to herself slowly, the warmth of Jadzia pressed under her still. Neither of them had let go of the other, Kira’s fingers wound in the fabric of Jadzia’s uniform. “Do you want to head back to the shuttle?” They’d discarded the idea earlier as rude, but the heat really was getting unbearable. Kira wanted to peel her uniform off and then possibly her skin, but she knew it wouldn’t make her feel any better. Maybe Jadzia could cure her of it. “I’d say we’ve had a conversation postponed for long enough.”
Jadzia smiled, wild and Dax and incredibly young on top of that. “I couldn’t agree with you more."