War Orphans


Senior staff meetings hadn't been this exciting in a long time.

Julian Bashir was incredulous. "What on earth was the Dominion up to, leaving those baby changelings in the middle of Cardassian space?"

Kira replied, "Well, apparently the base that we found in the Lanthos system served as a scientific outpost for the Dominion. According to the computer files, the Dominion was hoping to create genetically enhanced changelings. These changelings would be more skilled at changing shape, would be fast learners, and would have more endurance. They would be able to go for days without having to resort to their natural state. But the experiments had a side effect."

"Meaning?" Sisko asked.

"The Founders tried to link with the baby changelings and communicate with them. They couldn't. The baby changelings can join physically with other changelings, but they can't communicate or exchange thoughts via the link."

"In other words," Sisko concluded, "there was no way they could ever rejoin the Great Link."

Kira nodded.

"I've been studying the baby changeling that Garak found," Dax explained. "The changelings that have been studied so far--including Odo--appear to have nearly identical DNA. But this one's genetic structure is radically different. I'm guessing that it's one of the mutant changelings."

"So why'd the Dominion keep them alive?" Bashir asked.

"The Founders didn't kill their own," Dax said. "Remember, Odo was the first changeling to ever lay a hand on another."

"So they were left on a remote starbase far from home. Poor little fellows," Bashir sighed.

Sisko added, "Nonetheless, Starfleet is concerned about our new find. The Dominion War may be over, but it's still fresh in people's minds."

"Now, wait," Kira snapped. "These aren't the Founders. These are *abandoned children*, children who were cast out by their own people. We can't be so quick to judge them as a security risk."

"We will keep this in mind, Commander," Sisko insisted. "Nonetheless, Dax and Bashir are to keep this changeling under close observation."

"We can't treat it like some tissue sample," Kira replied. "We *know* that changelings can sense the world around them. We *know* that they're capable of emotions and thoughts, even when they can't communicate with us."

"*How*?" Worf demanded.

"Because we know how Odo felt about spending seven years as Dr. Mora's test subject."

"Mora didn't even know if Odo was a life form," O'Brien added.

"That's true!" Kira retorted. "But we do, thanks to Dr. Mora." Kira turned to Dax. "You're a scientist, Commander. Don't scientists *build* on each other's work? Don't scientists *apply* the knowledge from other scientists' findings? How can you treat that changeling as *anything* other than a living, feeling being?"

Dax's reply was blank and without passion. "I understand your points, Kira. I'll keep your recommendations in mind."

"Dismissed," Sisko concluded.


How would an infant react to new stimuli? Excitement, curiosity. . .fear? Dax picked up the light rod: a slender, pencil-shaped object that glowed with a greenish light.

How had Mora gotten Odo to respond? Through methods that weren't alway pleasant. Through methods that were even painful.

But Mora didn't know. Mora never wanted to hurt Odo. Mora was a scientist and a discoverer and a scholar. Mora was inquisitive, not cruel.

Dax had been both father and mother in her previous host lifetimes. ~Think!~ she told herself. ~What brought awareness and delight to those children? What made them respond to the world?~

She remembered the light rod that Leela Dax's son loved to play with. The ringing red balls and astronomy maps that Torias Dax would bring for his nieces and nephews. The regrets that Curzon Dax felt toward the end of his life, wondering about the children he'd had with assorted mistresses, but whom he'd never even met.

She swirled the light rod over the flat, caramel-colored blob in front of her. Leela's child would've grabbed the rod with glee and run across the room, pretending he was a wizard or a mad scientist. The blob lay still.

"Jadzia," Kira said, stepping through the doorway.

"Hello, Commander."

"I'm . . . wondering if I could ask you a favor," Kira said.

"Yes?"

"I would like to, well, spend an hour or two each day showing the changeling around the station," Kira explained. "Maybe it'll adapt better if it recognizes that we aren't its enemies."

"*Does* it see us as enemies? That's what I'd like to know," Dax answered. "I wonder what sort of behavioral patterns were programmed into these changelings that you found."

"Whatever they were, the Founders couldn't control them. They couldn't link with the Founders, remember?" Kira said.

"Commander. Nerys," Dax sighed. "I would discuss the matter with Captain Sisko. But to be honest with you, I would like to check the changeling's reponses myself first."

"Very well, then," Kira nodded. "I understand your concern." She hardly sounded like she meant what she said.

Before Dax could respond, Kira turned on her heel and left the lab.

Dax suddenly felt a tug on the light rod. She looked down. The infant changeling had reached a gooey tendril out and clasped the rod, gently tugging at it.

Dax didn't pull away. She let the changeling inch its way up toward her fingers. She felt a slight leap in her stomach, but she held still.

The changeling wrapped around her wrist and coursed up her arm toward her shoulder. It felt firm and tight yet delicate, like a garden snake. Dax shut her eyes, feeling the changeling's motions: around and around, up, up, up. Cautious, confused, curious.

It now coiled around her neck and crept slowly around to the other shoulder, making its way underneath to her armpit and then coiling around again, down down, down, to her hand.

She placed her hand on the table and watched the changeling slither back onto its smooth, warm surface. It settled down in contentment? exhaustion? exhileration? She smiled and made a note on her padd.