<USS Avalon> The Hand of the Prophets

***The Hand of the Prophets is the Third Orb and is known as the  Orb of 
Prophecy and Change
 
 
Even though the Bajoran faith didn't stress the existence of an afterlife,  
Li Nalas had never been afraid to die--not when he joined the resistance, not  
when he had to shoot Gul Zarale; not even when the Cardassians arrested him 
and  took him to the Hutet labor camp.  Certainly, he was afraid for the safety 
 
of his wife and children but he wasn't afraid to die.  When death finally  
did come, he hadn't expected it and, since it had, he never stopped to think  
about the differences between life and death.  Time had no meaning  until...he 
didn't know what happened.  
 
He was older and gray, often looking out the window of his office.  As  one 
of Bajor's ambassadors to the Federation, he was in constant contact with  
Ketchum, its president.  His daughter presented him with a third  grandchild, a 
little blonde girl, who looked so much like her father.   Wonderful, so 
wonderful that it hurt, but it didn't feel right.  Now he  was...where was he?
 
"You know very well where you are, my friend."
 
The voice was warm and deep.  Familiar.  He couldn't remember the  last time 
he could actually look at himself, or even realize that he existed to  look 
at, but there he was.  His hair was graying but definitely still  brown.  No 
earring?  He reached to touch his ear...
 
"You know you don't need that here, Nalas."
 
The same voice.  He turned around to look at the speaker.   "Benjamin, what 
goes on here?" he asked.  "I'm here.  I'm not  here.  I'm here again but now I 
know that I'm here.  I had  grandchildren.  My baby handed me her first baby 
and now  I'm back here."
 
The Emissary regarded the man before him.  The whole situation was  just a 
bit odd.  Even the others admitted that.  Ah but how to explain  it...
 
"She's a good girl who grew into a fine young woman, Nalas.  I  sponsored her 
for the Academy myself," he began.
 
Nalas nodded, almost to himself.  She was beautiful, even if she did  take 
after him in looks.  But Major Li...it wasn't right.  He shook  his head.  "It 
isn't right, is it, Benjamin?  I shouldn't be seeing  myself or you.  I 
shouldn't be able to think or even be.  I'm dead, I  think, but you...ah, you 
must be 
too."
 
"Something like that," Sisko said, the lack of commitment in his answer  
belied by the warmth of his voice.  He offered the other man a shrug then  
leaned 
his elbows onto a railing, just as if he were looking out a window on  DS9.  
"Something happened, Nalas.  She had an encounter with the Sixth  Orb."
 
"The Soul of the Prophets," Nalas murmured.  "She pulled me in  then.  She 
made me a part of her dream world since...I'm dead."  It  hurt when he was away 
from them for ten years while he was in Hutet but it was  worse now.  He 
almost wished she hadn't wanted him back so badly.  
 
"The others don't understand corporeal feelings all that well, Nalas.   Quite 
frankly, they are a bit confounded by what's gone on here.  They  don't know 
what to do about you," he explained.  "They want to extend the  Hand to you.  
After that, we'll talk.  If we need to."
 
"Show me, Benjamin.  Anything is better than this confusion...this  pain..."  
He could almost feel his wife's embrace.  Could almost see  that lovely smile 
from his daughter's dream.
 
Sisko knew.  He knew all too well.  He was at peace with his  situation but 
Li Nalas was not the Emissary and never asked to be in this  spot.  "If you 
remember what color the Third Orb is, look for its light,  Nalas."  Warm dark 
eyes smiled at his friend.  "If we meet again,  we'll talk.  If not...be well 
and 
be happy."
~~~~~~~
His vision was suffused with a warm blue glow but he realized he  was not 
alone in the light.  The young man, wearing a traditional Bajoran  earring and 
a 
thin silver colored chain with a pendant of some sort, was seated  on a low 
stone wall, watching a slow moving stream.  The stream was not  familiar to 
Nalas but the young man...
 
"I look like my dad, don't you think so?" he asked him.   "Well, except for 
the hair and the nose?"
 
Nalas walked toward him slowly.  He was tall and slender  and, even sitting 
still as he was, Nalas could sense the power and grace that  existed within 
him. As he approached the young man, he got a better look.   The glow of the 
Hand 
made his blue eyes look even bluer than they probably were  but that 
hair...it was Resnys' hair and it was Vilya's, too.  
 
"Perhaps you do, young man," Nalas replied, as if it were an  ordinary 
conversation.  By instinct, his hand reached to touch the young  man's face and 
he 
was grateful he didn't flinch from the touch of a  stranger.  A warm hand 
closed over his.  "You're real."
 
"I hope so.  My parents think I am already."  The  smile was bright and 
cheerful and the warm blue eyes almost danced as they  looked at him.  "And 
you're 
no stranger.  You've held me  already.  You are as much a part of me as they 
are."
 
Was this what that extended Hand was showing him then?  Was  this the future? 
 If it was, he wanted to be a part of it.  If we  meet again, we'll talk.  If 
not...be well and be happy.  He  looked into the bright blue eyes of the 
young man whose hand covered  his.  Do I want to grow old just to die again, 
knowing that I'll  probably never experience the Temple this same way again?  
He 
looked  at the earring the young man wore and at the pendant that hung from the 
thin  silver chain.  Yes, yes I do...

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