A Sort of Homecoming

 Episode Name:  A Sort of Homecoming

   Written By:  Spider

         Cast:  Dirha, Havaris, Idrani, Medes, Spider, Taimol and 
                Ungtae.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Spider

     Aired On:  Thu May 27 23:47:18 2004

     Stardate:  54124.3

Time: Thu May 27 20:57:38 2004

Stardate: 54124.0

Bustling about the inside of his quarters, Taimol is racing to put things back into order. "So much to do, so little time..." he grumbles cheerfully to himself as he adjusts the pot of grass on the coffee table just -so-.

The terminal on Dirha's desk in his little quarters chimes, and the computer cheerfully informs him, "Incoming Subspace Message, Office of the Kai."

Taimol peeks through the doors of Dirha's room, raising both of his eyebrows. "Computer, locate Dirha."

The computer whirs and chirps to itself. "Ranjen Dirha is located at Temple."

"Incoming Message," the computer reasserts, "Office of the Kai." On the screen, Bajor's emblem glows, flashing words under it: Incoming Message. Incoming Message. Incoming Message.

Taimol chews thoughtfully on the inside of his lip. "Blast it all, he'd have to be where there is no communications terminal." He steps over to the com terminal, firing a rapid message off to the ranjen's PADD.

"Incoming Message," reiterates the computer. "Accept?"

Taimol peeks around the corner into the room again. He says in Bajoran, "Please hurry, Dirha... I do so dislike listening to the messages of others."

Dirha comes in from the corridor.

Dirha has arrived.

"Incoming Message," reiterates the computer yet again. "Accept?" The Bajoran emblem is on the screen of Taimol's desktop terminal.

Dirha darts in, turning sideways to enter before the door finishs parting. He looks as if he ran along the corridor, and for once is not bearing that useless old push-broom on his shoulder. "I have a message from the Kai?!" he says, seeing Taimol even as he hurries across the room towards the terminal. He sounds quite incredulous about it, and a bit worried. The kid stops and blinks at the computer when it speaks, looks at Edan, and pushes a hand through his hair. The act does nothing to make it lie any neater.

Taimol glances back at the doors. "The Kai's office, at least."

The computer continues to blink. "Accept?"

Dirha bites his lower lip, then releases it and stands there for a moment, breathing. Then he smiles and says, "Accept it." It's unclear if he's speaking to Taimol or the computer.

Kai Ungtae's face appears on the terminal screen a moment later. "Prylar Taimol?" he queries, hands folded before himself on his desk. A Bajoran PADD rests in front of them, its top edge visible.

Taimol glances across the quarters to his room, then shrugs. He's getting a call from the Bajoran version of the Pope. Steadying himself, he takes a deep breath and steps behind Dirha. "Good day, Kai... this is indeed an honor you've bestowed on us."

. o O Taimol would be white as a sheet, had he less self control.

"It is I who am honored today," replies the Kai, looking across time and space toward his fellow clerics. "Quite honored, indeed. There are three matters I wish to discuss with you today, Prylar, and you as well, Ranjen Dirha." Of course he knows who Dirha is. He's the Kai. He knows such things. "First, there is the matter of your petition to me. I have reviewed it, and I wish to speak with you regarding it."

Dirha is the front line. Oh dear. His blue eyes glance at Taimol when the older man moves, buthe just blinks and his smile remains, sweet and calm. The Ranjen doesn't say anything, just bobs in a bow and looks at the Kai's face on the screen in a calmly wondering fashion, flashing a brief boyish grin at the mention of his name.

"Of course... we are both at your disposal." Edan summons up his most brilliant smile and places a hand on Dirha's shoulder.

A pause. "It is... frankly, reprehensible, that such a thing ever came to pass," Ungtae begins. "I went to speak with First Minister Shakaar about the matter, and I am certain that I do not have to tell you what his response was." A longer pause, this time, and he reaches for his PADD, tapping at it once. "When we reviewed the matter further, we found the root cause of this exile, which brings me to my second point, one of thanks." A little spinning icon, file received, begins blinking in the screen's corner. "I believe you are familiar with the woman known as Londar Nai?" No. No title.

"Of course, Your Eminence. She was a contender in the elections for Kai last year, was she not?" Taimol's fingers slowly tighten on Dirha's shoulder -- not painfully, but it's noticable.

. o O Taimol thinks "He didn't call her Vedek. I wonder what's happened..."

Dirha glances at Taimol, briefly, a gesture perhaps meant to be calming. It doesn't last, though, he quickly returns to his respectful wide-eyed smiling student mode, to soak up the Bajoran leader's reply.

"No, but her pawn was," replies Ungtae, tapping at his PADD again. "It is only thanks to your work, and the work of Starfleet on your station, that we have uncovered the work of that woman. Sixty-five /known/ alterations of the Bajoran Archives, fourteen assaults, twenty-three unauthorized entries into private property, twelve attempted murders, and five murders have been attributed to the orders given by Londar Nai over the period between the liberation of Bajor and this stardate." He looks up at this, and adds, "Including the murder of Vedek Toralin Jerrod." A long pause. "Bajor thanks you both, and Dakin Rann, and the others at your installation who assisted."

Taimol closes his eyes as the color drains from his face. "You're most gracious, Eminence. I trust she will stand trial for her crimes?" He sounds like he wants to throw up.

Dirha stops smiling. Toralin. The boy priest frowns, a rare expression and one that makes him look weirdly feral. The scars on his face, a cold narrowness that does not belong in his blue eyes.

Ungtae nods his head once, tapping at his PADD again. "Rest assured, she will stand trial for every one of her crimes. She, and all of those who willfully followed her, will stand trial for their crimes against Bajor and her people." One more tap. "It was politically expedient for her to assure that none of those in the Resistance whose complete loyalty was not hers would never speak against her; while those like Havaris Medes Kusto who had taken questionable actions during the Resistance were easy to initially dispose of, she did not, perhaps, consider that eventually, someone would question her movements during the moments of Bajor's liberation. We are questioning them now, and we have found her, and her actions, at great fault." His expression is grave, but comforting. "I knew Vedek Toralin. He was a good man. Bajor will mourn him for a very, very long time."

Taimol nods, his face fading into sadness. "I feel his loss keenly every day, Eminence. His wisdom has been sorely missed here."

Dirha's frown changes character, and nothing of ferocity is left in it. He bites his lip and glances downward, just a boy too big to cry at such a moment and wanting to anyway. He only nods. Nothing need be said.

"I know." Ungtae offers only this much for a long time, before going on, "But this brings me to my third matter." He looks again across time and space, directly at Taimol. "The Prophets have placed you where they have for a reason. This much is clear. Both of you were called," and now he looks at Dirha, "to stand by Toralin's side. Both of you were called to remain behind. It is the finding of the Vedek Council, after consideration of your actions up to this point, of your service and devotion to the Prophets, to ask you, Taimol Edan: do you think that the Prophets asked you to remain behind to take up his ministry and continue it?"

Taimol inclines his head. "Yes, Eminence. I could no sooner leave these people than I could take off my own foot." Edan pauses, then smiles. "We're not just a band of believers. We're a family -- at least, we are in my eyes."

Dirha lifts his head to meet the Kai's gaze, then looks at Taimol for the answer. He smiles at his fellow cleric's reply, his eyes a bit wet but brightening rapidly.

Ungtae nods his head once at that. He seems satisfied by this answer. "Prophets guide you, then, Vedek Taimol. Prylar Dirha. Bajor is grateful to you both." A pause. "Open the file, will you?" He smiles, then, a fatherly expression, before his face winks out, replaced by the Bajoran emblem.

. o O Taimol's thoughts swirl with faces. Medes Alethea. Havaris Medes Kusto. Havaris Jiasha. Khitra. Nor... but the parade of faces is halted by the words of the Kai. -VEDEK-?

Taimol's jaw drops, and he turns his head so he can face Dirha. "Ah... would you be willing to open it, Prylar?" he asks softly, clearly shocked.

. o O Taimol is filled with shock. Tons of it.

Dirha blinks, startled when the image dissapears before he can speak, or even nod, his goodbyes. He blinks again a moment or two later, when Taimol speaks to him. Another blink. Oh. The Kai used the same title. This sinks in quite visibly, in the form of a vapid expression that is suddenly replaced with a startled grin. He laughs, not because anything's funny but with a sort of happy relief, a reaction to the dialogue's coverage of such a range of emotional territory. Then, "Um. All right." His grin is almost roguish, playful, "Vedek." He moves to bring the file up, a bit hesitant. Rael never did make much effort to learn about computers.

The file opens easily; all that's required is for Dirha to tap the screen, and a text document pops open. It is written in Bajoran, and carries the official seal of the Provisional Government. In large letters, all capital, at the top of the screen, the header seems to fill the entire screen:

UNCONDITIONAL PARDON AND REVOCATION OF PERSONA NON-GRATA STATUS:
HAVARIS MEDES KUSTO.

Time: Thu May 27 22:21:59 2004

Stardate: 54124.1

Idrani is seated at her desk, in the Command office. The desk of the Diplomatic Attache Officer is recognized by the little flag of Andoria perched atop the monitor. There is soft, ambient music playing in the background (Andorian blues) countered by the soft taptapping on the console. In the evening, with the command office all but deserted, is often the best time to get work done.

A small icon comes up in the upper left hand of the screen. "Incoming Message," intones the computer. "Office of the First Minister."

Idrani looks up, "First Minister?" she wonders aloud, thinking of all the various governments that have someone with the title of 'First Minister'. "Computer, play message." She says.

"Lieutenant Jaylas Idrani," begins the message, with First Minister Shakaar on the screen. "It is my honor to personally extend the thanks of Bajor to the officers and residents of Station 419. Due to the actions of Dakin Rann and those who worked with him, we have uncovered a major and far-reaching conspiracy in the Vedek Council and the Provisional Government. You are to be commended, and, indeed, it is the finding of the Provisional Government that those who assisted Lt. Commander Dakin should have their names entered in the Archives accordingly. The Bajoran government therefore requests that you return the names of those to be so honored at your earliest convenience, and please, once again, accept Bajor's deepest gratitude."

Idrani cants her head to the side. "Hm." She hits a button, sending an acknowledgement that the message was received, then opens another text message to LCDR Dakin Rann.

The First Minister's face blinks off of the screen, replaced by the Bajoran emblem, spinning briefly and folding up into the corner before disappearing entirely.

Time: Thu May 27 22:41:14 2004

Stardate: 54124.2

Medes taps her com badge. "Lieutenant Medes to Lieutenant Havaris."

Over Medes's com badge, someone answers the hail, slightly distracted, mildly harried as ever. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

Into her com badge, Medes's voice is tearful, but she doesn't sound sad. It's hard to mistake the sound of Thea sniffling, though. "Kusto?"

. o O Medes nearly bursts with joy. Love. She's practically made out of happy kittens.

Over Medes's com badge, Havaris isn't quite so distracted anymore. She has his attention, "Alethea? What's the matter?"

Into her com badge, Medes laughs aloud. She can't help it. "Come to the holodeck, husband. I have something I need to show you."

Over Medes's com badge, Havaris's voice hesitates as he speaks, "I have. I'm awfully busy, Alethea. I..." He sighs softly and finally gives in without having to be goaded much. "I'll be down. You're okay? Everyone's okay?"

Into her com badge, Medes is still sniffling, but her voice is more sure, not. "It can wait, Kusto. Come here. You'll see. Trust me."

Over Medes's com badge, Havaris is silent for a few seconds before he replies with a hint of uncertainty, "Okay. I'll be down. Kusto out."

Medes's com badge clicks as Havaris drops off channel. The channel closes.

Havaris steps into holodeck 1 from the Dream Factory.

Havaris has arrived.

Medes is, when Havaris arrives, standing in a holographic jumja tree orchard. Both of her hands are clutched around her PADD, and she wears the Bajoran-style garment he gave her for Christmas. She's been crying recently, but now, her face is split with a wide, near-glorious sort of grin, and her hazel eyes are alight with joy.

. o O Medes thinks "I've been waiting. This is my dream. It's all been answered. It's all come true. Every prayer, every hope I held for this. It's all come true. It's real. It's so real. Am I dreaming?"

The arch appears not far from Medes, of course, and Havaris paces in through it, expression naturally mixing hesitance with a fair smattering of worry. He's a worrier, that Havaris. When he steps out into this particular orchard, he halts in place and glances back over his shoulder at the retreating arch, then back to Medes with a small shake of the head and a bemused look. He manages, of course, to work out a compliment somewhere in the middle of it all. "You look how I wanted you to look. You look beautiful, wife."

She reaches out a hand toward him, smiling still, broadly. "I look how you make me feel," she manages, before looking down at the PADD in her hands. "Come here, Husband." Turning the PADD up so that he can see the emblem of the Provisional Government on it, she begins to read.

"Bajoran Provisional Government Official Docment," Medes begins, reading aloud from the PADD in a voice that shakes with emotion. "Unconditional Pardon and Revocation of Persona Non-Grata Status: Havaris Medes Kusto." A pause for breath, and she goes on, as if fearing she might start to cry again. "In accordance with the findings of the Bajoran Provisional Government and the Vedek Assembly, this document constitutes an official and unconditional pardon for all actions taken by Havaris Medes Kusto during the unlawful and reprehensible Occupation of Bajor by Cardassia; an official, total, and immediate revocation of his Persona Non Grata status as originally determined in 2369; and an official, total, and immediate reinstatement of his status as a citizen of Bajor, with all the rights and privileges contained therein."

Havaris glances about the orchard out of habit, almost as though wary of it, and moves towards Medes to accept her hand, curling in close against her side. He gives her a quick and sincere smile at her comments regarding her appearance and promptly turns his attention to the PADD in her hands. He goes from a healthy pinkish-peach to rather pale all in a moment. For the whole of her recitation, he does little more than stare down at the words on the screen. Perhaps he wobbles a little. His free hand lifts to the PADD and draws it somewhat clumsily from her grip to read it himself, silently, his lips moving slightly as he mouths the Bajoran text. He lowers the PADD slowly, not evidencing a great deal of reaction, and winds up looking to Medes with a confused sort of look. What's the appropriate response? His eyes are, naturally, filled with a great deal of conflicting emotions, and he's yet to let any of them out yet. Apparnetly he's leaving it up to Medes to decide which way this particular weeble wobbles.

. o O Havaris doesn't have a pleasant head at the moment. Eight years of walls built up come crashing down hard, bringing back old resentments, memories of things he's done, some of which he's never spoken. A sea of faces and names and places left behind. The guilt, the absolution, the relief, the revulsion, the uncertainty, the pride, the hope, the determination, the pure unmitigated joy. It's a lot for a guy that'd been doing manifest reports five minutes ago.

Medes wraps her arms around him, pressing her nose against his cheek. She's silent for a long time, smiling against his jaw, one hand petting down his back. The tiny Engineer stands this way for a series of moments that are only a few short seconds, but also forever. This is a moment she wants to savor, right here. "Do you remember teaching me the Bajoran constellations in this orchard?" This, whispered into his ear, is what she finally offers.

Havaris ends up dropping the PADD from now numb fingers. The usual clatter and rattle never comes. It simply drops into the grass and mulch of the orchard floor, forgotten. His arms wrap around Medes' shoulders, drawing her in exceptionally close. His head nods once, then a few more times rapidly as he sucks in a shaky breath and uses it to make some sort of reply. It squeaks a bit coming out, "Yes." He frees a hand to wipe at his eyes quickly before wrapping it around her again. "I told you about the solar sails. And when I used to come here as a boy."

She draws her head back, then, looking up into his eyes; one hand pets his cheek, draws its forefinger over his ridged nose. "I remember." Medes's expression is exquisitely tender, her eyes silently fixed on his. "We're going to our orchard, someday, Kusto. We're going to stand in between the jumja trees at dusk, and we're going to watch the stars come out. You. Me. Our children. Someday, husband, we are going home."

Havaris laughs quietly through his leaking tears, sniffling now in a mixture of relief and happiness and emotional confusion. He made it through without a sobbing jag, and that's impressive enough, but making it through it all without tears just isn't in the cards. He nods his head slowly, resting his cheek in her hand, and twitches on a boyish smile that chips the years from around his eyes, just a little bit at a time. "I never thought I'd see this day come," Kusto admits quietly, "I never thought I'd get my pardon. I barely had it in me to wish for it, anymore." He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers and murmurs more quietly, "But if we're to return to Bajor, to my valley, to my village? You and I and our children? Then we're going to have to work a little harder, yet." He draws back just a touch, winks, and promptly steals her compin from her chest. "You are relieved, Lieutenant." He tosses the pin over his shoulder shortly before dragging her down and out of frame. Oh my.