Julian reached up with one hand to push away some of the pressure from his brow. Did the room really have to be so bright? And worse still - he suspected that whatever stimulant Jadzia had used to rouse him was already rapidly wearing off. Struggling to focus beyond the rumbling, half-perceived voice of the constable, he sensed the drain of energy from his muscles, and realised that he still had little memory of when he had last slept.

“What exactly was it you were wanting, Doctor?” Odo’s voice was forceful, unyielding. “Help me to understand. What exactly were you trying to accomplish?”

“I don’t know.” Frowning, Julian looked away. Every stimulus was amplifying the ache within his head - its effect not unlike the desiccation of an early morning hangover.

Dax had explained some of the measures she had used to aid both him and O’Brien, and with that, possibly even the reason for his head to be hurting as badly as it was. Something about polarity shifts, interference signals set up to cut their connection to the alien voice. He no longer heard it in his thoughts. But Dax’s explanation had quickly grown distant, distorted instead by the ringing in Julian’s ears.

Now the saffron of those staring eyes had been replaced with blue - but Constable Odo was no more likely to release the doctor from his scrutiny. The artificial illumination inside the ship was a notable change from cavern tunnels and ancient, half dead shuttles. It cast away shadows and cobwebs from Julian’s mind, even those which had once been as thick and solid as a thunder cloud.

But as they receded into the formless ether, so too did the memory of exactly what had been so very important, and why. Like the echo of a dream as it faded on waking.

“I had to be somewhere.” At least he could remember that much. “It was important… Somehow. But there was definitely somewhere we had to go.”

Odo’s eyes narrowed. “Important?” he demanded. “How? What would you have done once you arrived?”

“I… don’t know.” Without returning his gaze to the Constable, Bashir rubbed his aching head, and squirmed. He was beginning to feel like a child in an examination, confronted with a question he was sure he ought to have studied. Something that a part of him might even once have known. But now, each moment spent in a struggle to recapture his memories seemed to push them from his sight. Every one was hidden, out of reach, as elusive to him as an attempt to hold onto the end of a rainbow.

Perched at the end of one hard, flat bed, he tensed all the way along his back, and shuddered. He would have to submit a request for some more comfortable beds to replace those already installed around the circumference of his Sickbay, he thought. And soon. And if that was too much to ask, something would at least have to be done about those horribly shallow, uneven mattresses. As much as he tried to push away the discomfort, the hard surface beneath him was offering no relief. With every movement, he felt the stab of pressure deep in his joints as though each was pierced through with a semi-blunt titanium rod.

His chest ached with longing - to bring his knees up against it and wrap both arms tightly around them. Anything, to isolate himself from the Security Chief’s relentless interrogation. And just like that anxious boy that part of him still imagined himself to be, he wished above all else that he could simply run away and hide.

Please, Odo, he thought, with a futile hope that the Constable would somehow catch the silent plea in his eyes. Odo was a keen observer, after all. And the muscles of Julian’s legs were already threatening to cramp behind the knees. Please understand. I want to answer your questions. Really, I do. But I don’t know anything.

He became aware of a second figure watching in the background - a tall shadow standing just inside the doorway. Sisko’s eyes glinted sharply, his expression dangerously cool, and he stepped forward the moment he noticed that he had been seen. Julian felt his throat go dry.

Closing his eyes again, tightly enough this time for tears to gather at the corners, he did his best to roll some of the lingering tension from his neck - then glanced back up at Odo and the captain. And winced.

The painful reminder clamped like a vice around his back, forcing yet another picture from the darker, more distant recesses of his memory. It was dim at first, shapeless and indistinct. But he concentrated still harder, focusing all his energy upon it until the steady advance of time brought some of his past into view - as if from the slowly waking light of dawn after a dark and moonless night.

What he discovered was ghostly in its outline, barely substantial. Bashir frowned, closely watching the face of his captain for just enough time to catch the memory’s likeness.

“You shot me.”

“I did,” Sisko agreed. His response was as low as an oncoming storm.

“In the back.” Julian continued to protest. “You shot me in the back.”

He struggled to hide the rising indignation in his voice, but was certain that the others had heard it anyway. There was no comfort to be gained from knowing the logic behind the captain’s decision, nor from his realisation that Sisko had not had any real alternative. It didn’t matter that his reasoning was understandable. Julian didn’t care. If anything, the sheer rationality of it just made his actions even more annoying.

It was so much easier to be indignant - so much easier to give in to his feelings than it would ever be to sort through the muddled recollections of what had led him here to begin with.

“Careful, Doctor.” Sisko’s deep throated growl was enough to cut off even the hint of further complaints. His voice was ominously level; tense and threatening. Julian squirmed like a frightened schoolboy.

“Captain…” Jadzia stood a step away from him as if she’d materialised in exactly that position by the entrance. She placed both hands against her back, scarcely fazed by the volatile glare that her commanding officer had sent her way.

Captain Sisko whirled around, nostrils flared, and with his cheeks still quivering as though from a malfunction in the ship’s inertial dampeners. But even as he surged forward, Dax never flinched.

Stopping at a halfway point, the captain closed his eyes and forced a deep, slow breath in through his nose. Then a second. Finally he reached up and rubbed the tip of his thumb repeatedly across a patch of skin just beside the corner of his brow.

“Permission to speak freely, Sir,” said Dax.

Sisko scowled, looking again at the quietly attentive face of his Science Officer. Even at the indirect angle from which he watched, captivated, Bashir had a very clear view of the captain’s dark eyes. His gaze was still as hard as compressed rock, but at least it was no longer as hotly dangerous as molten lava as - setting his jaw, he released a sigh. “Make it quick.”

Dax’s reply was tight and hushed as she stepped away and waited for the captain to follow. Her face was close to his, her voice a rapid near-whisper. But Julian’s hearing was better than either of them had ever supposed.

“I don’t think there’s a lot more we can learn here, Benjamin,” she began. “We’re too late. And if Julian says he doesn’t know…”

Yes, Jadzia! Yes! That’s exactly right!

Together, they both glanced back at Julian, and saw the hopeful tension in his eyes. “Then we’re stuck here after all,” growled Sisko.

Dax nodded. “I’m afraid so,” she confirmed. “I’ll keep on searching for as much information as I can get, but I’m afraid we’ve cut whatever lines of communication remained. There’s a good chance we won’t learn a thing until Kira gets back.”

Bashir tensed. Kira? Back? From where? What about her?

But the others’ attention was already directed well away from him - with not one of them noticing the change in his eyes. Sisko nodded to Dax, with an irritated breath outward. “I suppose not,” he agreed with some reluctance, although the stony glance he cast at the doctor bore a promise of retribution. “We’ll finish this - later.”

The trio of officers turned away - with Sisko and Odo first to exit. Dax paused a little longer to place a comforting hand on Julian’s shoulder. He looked up, despair showing in his eyes - but she had gone before he could connect the tangled anxiety in his stomach into any kind of cause. And even if he had been able, he demanded of himself, what would he have said anyhow?

“Kira…?” he muttered under his breath, mind already filling with possibilities. What could Dax have meant? If Major Kira really was after information… If it was anything to do with what the captain had said to Dax… If they, or the Defiant, really were trapped in the one place, as Sisko seemed to believe…

If only he could figure out why the idea was causing him to feel so very queasy.