<USS Avalon> Re: "Introducing Cailin Danaan, Part One"

Present Day...


                 It had been a long time since she had been here. At least 
four years, CD thought. Smiling lightly, she walked with the others off the 
transport ship, heading for the Promenade.
                 Not much had changed, except perhaps for the heightened 
security. The war might have been over for some time, but Starfleet and Bajoran 
security details were taking no chances. Somehow, that was comforting. The 
Promenade was brightly lit, the crowd thick with a myriad of beings going about 
their business, whether work or pleasure. CD turned for Quark's, the station's 
most infamous establishment.
                 Inside she sat at the bar, and was almost immediately 
approached by Quark himself. "What can I get for such a lovely lady as 
yourself?"
                 CD tried not to laugh. "Hello, Quark."
                 The Ferengi barman started. "How do you know my name? Do I 
know you?"
                 She smiled. "It's been a long time since I was here last. 
Perhaps you might remember the name Margarita Girl," she said. 
                 Narrowing his small purple eyes, Quark studied her, looking 
her up and down. To help him along, she raised her tail and waved it at him. 
                 Quark's face lit up. "Cailin Danaan, my favorite Margarita 
Girl!" he cried, coming around the bar and throwing his arms around her. 
                 CD grunted, patting his arms until he let her go. "Now you 
remember me. Why is it always the tail that jogs the memory?"
                 Quark shrugged, feigning innocence--which was quite a feat 
for the not-always-straight businessman. "What can I say, men are weak for the 
unusual in a woman. How have you been?"
                 Smiling, she replied, "Good. And you?"
                 He looked around. "As well as can be expected. But you know 
what the Rules of Acquisition say--"
                 "Never sleep with the boss's sister, always sleep with the 
boss?"
                 "Ha ha. Very funny, Margarita Girl. War is good for 
business. Peace is good for business. I make do." 
                 "Speaking of margaritas, when am I going to get one?"
                 Quark grinned, walking around the bar once more and heading 
to the bottles along the wall. Years ago, when they had first met, he had 
quickly learned that CD drank nothing but lightly malted beverages and mixed 
drinks like daiquiris and margaritas, the latter being her preference. He had 
quickly dubbed her Margarita Girl, a moniker she had accepted with affection. 
                 "So what have you been up to the last four years?" the 
little man called down the bar, preparing her order with nothing less than the 
best, i.e.: real liquor, which he usually only did when people paid for it. But 
for Cailin, he did it for free.
                 Why, he still wasn't sure.
                 "I just came back from a leave of absence," she replied.
                 "I was wondering if you were still in Starfleet," Quark 
mused, setting her drink in front of her, his comment a reference to the fact 
that 
she was dressed in civilian clothes.
                 Slowly CD raised the glass and sipped. "Ah," she said, 
smiling. "Purple Dragon, my favorite."
                 Quark cocked an eyebrow. "And I was afraid the color would 
have given it away. Why a leave of absence?"
                 CD ignored the question. "Quark, technically I was never in 
Starfleet. I worked for them, served on ships and space stations. I only wore 
the uniform because my commanding officers requested it of me."
                 "You still a head shrinker?"
                 CD shook her head, amused. "Yes, Quark. I'm still a 
counselor," she replied.
                 Quark grunted. "Well, whatever works for you. It's a shame, 
I still say. You'd make a lovely exotic dancer. I'd hire you in a minute."
                 She grinned. He'd said the same thing to her years ago, and 
tried persuading her to quit her job and work for him every time they saw one 
another. Like he was doing now. 
                 "And I would work for you in a minute, if I wasn't already 
doing something I loved," CD told him for perhaps the dozenth time.
                 "Cailin? Cailin Danaan?"
                 Both Quark and his customer turned at the voice. It was Ezri 
Dax, counselor of Deep Space Nine. 
                 CD nodded. "Hello...Lt. Commander, is it now? 
Congratulations."
                 Ezri took the stool next to her. "Thanks. Gosh, it's been 
years since I've seen you. I thought the Tambora was destroyed, all hands lost?"
                 CD thought back, allowing no expression to come to her 
features. "No, not all of us," she replied simply.
                 Ezri looked as if she wanted to ask questions, but when CD 
turned back to her drink, she thought better of it. "So...what are you doing 
here?"
                 Quark perked up at this. "I was just about to ask her that 
very same question," he said. 
                 "I've been put on assignment," CD said. "USS Avalon." 
                 "That's great! Congratulations," Ezri said happily. 
                 CD nodded. "Thanks. It will be good to get back to work."
                 Again, her cryptic words intrigued the Trill, not to mention 
Quark, who was still listening. But CD did not elaborate, and Ezri had sensed 
that whatever was behind her simple responses was not something her old 
friend wished to discuss.
                 "Have you reported in yet?"
                 "No. I'm actually not due to report until tomorrow, but I'll 
probably go ahead and do it anyway." She grinned at the Ferengi. "I just 
wanted to stop in and see an old friend first, and have myself a drink." 
                 "Well, since you have time, why don't we have dinner 
together? I was heading to my quarters when I saw you. And by the way, it's 
great to 
see you again," said Ezri.
                 "Thanks, I'd like that. It's great to see you, too."
                 During their conversation, CD had finished her drink. Saying 
good-bye to Quark, she left with Ezri. 
                 They were silent for a while, neither speaking until they 
had reached the habitat ring. Ezri spoke first.
                 "CD...What have you been up to? Really?"
                 CD didn't look at her. "What makes you think there's 
anything going on?"
                 Ezri raised an eyebrow. "I'm a counselor too, remember?"
                 Her companion nodded. "I know," she said quietly. "Look, you 
know what happened to the Tambora."
                 "Yeah..."
                 "I didn't know this at first, but I wasn't the only 
survivor, there were five." CD looked over finally. "Four men and myself. They 
were 
quickly traded in a prisoner exchange, but I wasn't."
                 Ezri was suddenly overcome with a sense of foreboding. 
"What...what happened?"
                 "I was a prisoner of war for over a year. Let's just leave 
it at that."
                 And suddenly the Trill knew, or at least had a grim idea, of 
what sort of treatment Cailin had received.
                 "I'm so sorry."
                 CD shrugged. "Don't be, it's over. I'm moving on now, 
getting back to work. That's what is most important."
                 Ezri tried to smile. "Well, I know this probably sounds 
trite--since I'm sure you're still undergoing post-trauma treatment--but if you 
ever want to talk, I'm here for you. As a friend, not a counselor."
                 "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think so. No offense 
Ez--I just don't want to relive it any more than I have to," CD replied.
                 Ezri nodded understandingly. "I thought so. If you ever 
change your mind, though, I'll listen. Any time."
                 "Thank you."

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