If she hadn't been so nervous, hadn't told him her name already, Julian might have been able to believe that the woman in front of him was a past Dax, but he knew their names and Ezri didn't fit there. And he might have been able to believe she was from some far-flung future, but everything about this situation didn't indicate that either.
At the confirmation, Julian felt almost physically staggered. What had happened--and when both were questions racing in his mind, over and over. He shouldn't ask. He shouldn't. He should draw impartiality around him like a shield, banish the thought to a corner of his mind, wall it off. His friend was going to die, and be reborn, because Dax was simultaneously going to outlive them all, barring some disaster, and just as long-lived as the rest of them. And it was wartime. It was likely that one of them would be lost, he knew that, he'd been up hours on multiple nights with the calculations of probability going through his head. They were right next to the wormhole, practically next door to Cardassia, it would frankly have been a miracle if all of them survived. Dax had been actually the most likely to survive, according to all his projections and mental scenarios, barring the catastrophic destruction of the Defiant with all hands lost. He'd selfishly hoped that he'd be at least the first, if not the only, to go, so he wouldn't have to deal with the loss.
After a moment of being overwhelmed by the realization, Julian finally managed to compartmentalize his emotions. He had to deal with what was in front of him, first and foremost. His hands even managed not to shake as he administered the vaccines and antibiotics, and entered the medical information into the computer--taking a moment to request from Doctor Crusher additional security clearance, since Jadzia was aboard and she certainly wasn't going to learn about Ezri here from him.
"And there we go, you're cleared," he said--managing false cheer, as if he hadn't just had his world rocked. "Have you gotten the tour yet? I could show you around."
no subject
At the confirmation, Julian felt almost physically staggered. What had happened--and when both were questions racing in his mind, over and over. He shouldn't ask. He shouldn't. He should draw impartiality around him like a shield, banish the thought to a corner of his mind, wall it off. His friend was going to die, and be reborn, because Dax was simultaneously going to outlive them all, barring some disaster, and just as long-lived as the rest of them. And it was wartime. It was likely that one of them would be lost, he knew that, he'd been up hours on multiple nights with the calculations of probability going through his head. They were right next to the wormhole, practically next door to Cardassia, it would frankly have been a miracle if all of them survived. Dax had been actually the most likely to survive, according to all his projections and mental scenarios, barring the catastrophic destruction of the Defiant with all hands lost. He'd selfishly hoped that he'd be at least the first, if not the only, to go, so he wouldn't have to deal with the loss.
After a moment of being overwhelmed by the realization, Julian finally managed to compartmentalize his emotions. He had to deal with what was in front of him, first and foremost. His hands even managed not to shake as he administered the vaccines and antibiotics, and entered the medical information into the computer--taking a moment to request from Doctor Crusher additional security clearance, since Jadzia was aboard and she certainly wasn't going to learn about Ezri here from him.
"And there we go, you're cleared," he said--managing false cheer, as if he hadn't just had his world rocked. "Have you gotten the tour yet? I could show you around."