Spirit Walk_ Old Wounds (Book 1) - Christie Golden [45]
She settled into her chair, her large eyes flickering rapidly as she read. Kaz knew that she’d only have to read the information once. All Huanni were blessed with eidetic memories.
“Now,” said Astall, setting the padd down. “Tell me about these dreams.”
He clasped and unclasped his hands, not sure where to start. Finally, he just decided to plunge right in.
“They’re about the life of one of Kaz’s previous hosts. Gradak. He was a Maquis. He was one of those killed during the attack on Tevlik’s moon.”
“Oh, Jarem.” Her voice was full of sympathy. “That was an awful incident. We on Huan mourned so deeply for the fallen.” He heard the sincerity in her voice and felt warm inside.
“Well,” Kaz amended, “Gradak wasn’t killed then, exactly. But it was there that he received the wounds that he’d die from later, on my ship.”
“Your ship? You weren’t able to save him?”
Kaz shook his head. “That’s not the point. We were able to safely transfer the symbiont to me. That’s how I became joined. But he—I—we keep having these memories of the night when he was attacked.”
She held up a pale purple hand.
“May I interrupt for a moment?”
“Certainly.”
“I make it a point to learn as much as I can about the various species who serve with me,” Astall said. “So I’ve done a lot of reading about your people, but of course I’m sure I haven’t grasped everything. Now…correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t Trill hosts undergo a great deal of training before they’re joined with a symbiont?”
“Oh, yes. It’s quite rigorous, being an initiate.”
“And yet you just told me that you received your symbiont a few short years ago. As an older man, without any psychological preparation for the joining, and under extremely trying circumstances.”
“That’s right.” Kaz nodded, wondering where this was leading.
“And right now, you’re on a mission that is going to take you into what was formerly Cardassian territory.”
“I thought that might have something to do with it,” Kaz said, “and at first I just dismissed it. But then I…well, I started to get concerned when the dreams kept recurring. They were so vivid.”
She smiled and shook her head.
“No need for concern, Jarem. But you’re wise to address the problem before it grows worse. I have a feeling that these factors I just cited are combining to create an environment of stress for you at this point in time. I would imagine that it’s hard enough to integrate the emotions of a symbiont under ideal circumstances. With no preparation whatsoever, you were forced to absorb the memories of someone who’d been killed in one of the worst, most despicable slaughters in Federation history. And your record says nothing about you taking any leave to return to Trill for any further counseling.”
She looked at him a little sternly. Kaz was reminded of a teacher he’d had when he was a boy and smiled a bit sheepishly.
“No,” he said. “I would have if there had been a problem, but after a few weeks everything seemed just fine. Neither my captain, who’s the one who okays any leave, nor I felt there was a need. And it’s not as if I haven’t been under stress since I received the symbiont,” he added.
“Of course not. But I’m willing to bet that subsequent stressors had nothing to do with being a Maquis, or being in Cardassian space. Or even being around a cluster of people who have chosen to strike out in a different direction.”
That insight surprised Kaz. “You think the colonists are part of what’s triggering these memories?”
“They’re families of independent thinkers who live together in an isolated place far from normal Federation activity,” she said. “Ring a bell?”
He nodded slowly. He should have seen that for himself. “Yes,” he said. “Sounds an awful lot like the Maquis and their families hiding out on Tevlik’s moon.”
She smiled, her eyes soft with sympathy.
“No wonder Gradak is crying out to be heard,” Astall said. “You’ve never performed the zhian’tara, have you?”
He shook his head.