Spirit Walk_ Old Wounds (Book 1) - Christie Golden [33]
“No!” cried Jarem, horrified at the Doctor’s lack of compassion and startling himself and his team with his outburst. He ripped off the sheet from the injured man and stared again at the dying Trill’s face. In a very real sense, this was his brother. Instilled in his people was an intense desire to protect the symbionts who were the keepers of what it truly meant to be Trill.
He couldn’t stand here and watch both host and symbiont die needlessly. Not when there was something he could do.
He made his decision. He wouldn’t inform his captain, because regardless of what Captain Lanham said, Jarem knew he’d go through with his plan. Sometimes it was better to ask forgiveness than permission. He began to remove his uniform.
The hologram stared disapprovingly. “What are you doing, Doctor?” it inquired acidly.
“I’m getting ready for surgery,” he said. “And I order you to do the same. You’re to transfer the symbiont into me. I’m going to be its new host.”
The hologram arched an eyebrow. “You are far too old to complete the joining successfully,” it said.
“Not too old to try,” Jarem said. Forestalling the hologram’s next comment, Jarem said quickly, “In your expert medical opinion, can this man survive?”
“No.”
“Can the symbiont survive the trip back to Trill without a host?”
Uneasily, the EMH replied, “No.”
“Are the odds of its survival increased if it is transferred to a living host?”
Something flickered in the dark eyes. “Yes, provided both it and the host survive the transfer.”
Jarem glanced around sickbay. His staff had everything under control. Those who had been most grievously wounded had already received treatment. They would survive; Jarem’s team did not need his assistance.
The dying Trill did.
He pushed one of the emergency cots closer to the Trill Maquis. The man was still breathing, although barely.
Jarem looked up at the hologram. “May I remind you,” the hologram said, “that you have not been properly prepared to accept the symbiont? That, in fact, you may prove to be a poor match?”
“Even a poor match increases the likelihood that the symbiont will survive, at least long enough to get it back to its homeworld,” Jarem said. “Doctor, you’re under orders from the chief medical officer to perform this surgery, so let’s get going.”
Suddenly he grinned. “I’ll probably be court-martialed for this. That should make you happy.”
“I am an Emergency Medical Hologram,” it replied somewhat testily. It pressed a hypospray to Jarem’s throat. The last thing Jarem heard as an unjoined Trill was the hologram saying irritably, “Happiness is irrelevant to the performance of my duty. Let us hope you survive long enough to warrant a court-martial.”
Kaz smiled in remembrance. Captain Lanham had not pressed charges; after all, Jarem Kaz had not directly disobeyed an order. Plus, Kaz had argued very persuasively that his action had saved a life.
The first few weeks with the symbiont were difficult, more difficult than he had anticipated. The joining demanded a great deal of energy, and Jarem had to admit that he was indeed not as young as he once was. Lanham had wanted to cancel the ship’s current mission and get Kaz to Trill, but Jarem had insisted he could manage.
And indeed, once that initial period had passed, he had proved to be a more than adequate host for the Kaz symbiont. He had learned so much from it about Gradak, the previous host, and all the others the symbiont had joined with. All of them were living within him now, after a fashion.
And Gradak’s memories were swimming to the forefront now that they were on a mission heading back into what was once Cardassian space.
The door hissed, and Kaz returned to the present. He was surprised and pleased to see the ship’s pilot standing awkwardly in his sickbay.
“Hello, Lieutenant Tare,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
She glanced around, her dark eyes flickering.
“I have been told that I should report to you for a physical. I thought it best to get it over with.”
Her body language, words, and tone of voice all screamed to him that