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Just when Nerys thought they might be learning to understand each other, to accommodate each other, Federationers went and showed, again, that they didn’t understand the Bajoran people and didn’t care to respect them, either. She hadn’t even thought to pay attention to what was being taught at the school, but to know that Bajoran children were being taught absent any spirituality at all? It was troubling. Of course, the Bajoran parents could choose whether or not to send their children to Mrs. O’Brien’s school, but they also didn’t have many options. There was nowhere else on the station for them to go.
Maybe she should talk to the provisional government, and see if they could find a Bajoran teacher.
In the meantime, she had to deal with Sisko’s patronizing, disappointed looks and his expectation that she would help him get his way, even when it went against the Prophets themselves. He might be the Emissary, but if he wasn’t going to show any indication that he was even listening to the Prophets, she didn’t see that he could reasonably be acting with their authority. She might as well seek out someone who was. She stepped off the turbolift and strode onto the Promenade, headed for the shrine.
The atmosphere was tense already on the Promenade. People had clearly already heard about Vedek Winn confronting Keiko O’Brien that morning. There was even less mingling between Bajorans and Starfleet than usual, and Nerys saw more than one suspicious look pass around. It was something of a relief to walk by the infirmary and hear a familiar, cheerful voice speaking in accented Bajoran.
“See, I don’t think that there’s as much conflict between the scientific perspective and what Vedek Winn is proposing as everyone makes out,” Julian was saying. Nerys slowed outside of the infirmary, curious. Who was he talking to?
“Can you clarify?” That was Nurse Jabara. Nerys liked Jabara, in an abstract way. She was very competent, well suited to her profession, and just curious enough to actually get along with Julian as a co-worker.
“Well, it seems to me to be a matter of terminology, not fact. Geographical features have names. Features in space—planets, stars, asteroids—have names. The fact that we in Starfleet call it ‘the wormhole’ is really an anomaly. It may be the only stable wormhole, but it isn’t the only wormhole. You don’t generally call a hill just ‘the hill,’ except as a colloquialism for people who live nearby. In an educational context, one ought to be more specific.” Julian seemed to be just getting started. Nerys, curious, stopped walking altogether, sitting down on a small bench just outside the infirmary to listen.
“Now, Starfleet could choose its own name for the wormhole, of course,” Julian went on, “but humans, at least, have a long history of showing up to new places and re-naming things, regardless of what the people who are already there have to say. This history is generally regarded as something of a disgrace. We now, usually, use the names of places as given by the locals, people with cultural attachment to the place. Many places are sacred to those who live nearby. That’s no reason to change the name of something. The Bajorans, in some sense, knew the Celestial Temple must be there, even before we saw it open. This is the sense I get from talking to people, and I expect there are historians even now re-examining your historical records for evidence of that. There is no reason, therefore, to say that we cannot call the wormhole the Celestial Temple.
On a separate linguistic note, a temple is a temple regardless of whether one worships according to the faith which constructed it. I wouldn’t walk by the shrine on the station and say it is not a shrine because I don’t worship the Prophets. It is what it is, regardless.”
“That deals with the question of the Celestial Temple,” Jabara responded, and it sounded like she was smiling, “but not of the Prophets themselves. Or the wormhole aliens, if you prefer. Vedek Winn objects to leaving them and their actions out of the curriculum. I would be inclined to agree.” Nerys felt a glow of kinship. She knew she liked Jabara.
“ I would be inclined to agree!” Julian exclaimed. “If they’re being left out of the curriculum entirely, then the curriculum is not representing the science. All the reports I have been party to or read, which is most of the science reports leaving this station, take them into account. According to Commander Sisko, the wormhole aliens, who identify themselves directly with Bajor, live within the wormhole, outside of time and can send people visions through the Orbs. Either we consider his experiences to be enough proof for us, in which case the Prophets do exist, scientifically, or we don’t, in which case the entire report and all the science we’ve built on it is suspect, and we cannot prove the existence of the aliens in the wormhole at all. But based on what I’ve discussed with other Bajorans, you believe that the Prophets are beings who live outside time, send visions, and are specifically concerned with Bajor’s culture and future. Is that correct?”
“You can’t think it’s as basic as that!” Jabara said, sounding scandalized.
“Well, I mean, obviously there’s—” Julian’s sputtering response was cut off by the sound of Jabara’s laughter. Nerys felt a small smile spreading across her face in response.
“Metaphysically, yes,” she answered, “There are theological debates about the nature of the Prophets, the nature of goodness, and so on. But the basics are there—they exist, they have knowledge we do not, they share it with us to guide in paths of wisdom, for our betterment. They also offer moral guidance.”
“Exactly. Now, whether one decides to take the Prophets’ advice is philosophy. Whether one worships them is religion. But whether they exist, in the manner Bajorans believe they do, is fact. The Commander is a direct witness. Much like the Celestial Temple, the name is scientifically irrelevant—not worth making a fuss over. They are wormhole aliens in the same way as I am a Terran alien, but we both have different preferred names for our species. The Prophets, again, don’t seem to have any other name they would prefer, and they are, based on our evidence, the same people as are described by the Bajorian prophecies. Creatures who give prophecies are generally called prophets.”
“Why does Mrs. O’Brien refuse to teach that to the children, then? It seems to make sense to you, but others from the Federation seem to see the science and the Bajorans’ religious beliefs as irreconcilable.”
“Things that make sense to me don’t always make sense to other people,” Julian answered, his tone more subdued. After a pause, he went on, “What you have to understand is that this is not the usual course of things in human history, specifically. Humans have a long history of religious conflict, but regardless of what people believed, they have never met any of their gods and provided a scientific report on the nature of their existence outside of time. For this reason, for humans, scientific fact and what people choose to believe about their gods have been separate. The historical facts are, relatively, provable. The divine nature of historical figures is not. The divine hand behind the laws of the universe is not.”
“And yet, here is the divine hand in Bajor’s history,” Jabara finished. “I see.”
“Many people throughout human history have complained of children forgetting the gods due to their secular education, and have pushed to include their religion in scientific education regardless of its provability. Sometimes they have even ignored or campaigned against scientific fact. Similarly, some people have used education as an avenue for forcible conversion. What Vedek Winn was saying this morning might have reminded Mrs. O’Brien of those things, and made her wary. Of course, as noted before, the request to call things by the name they appear to prefer is not conversion, and I haven’t heard of the Vedek asking Mrs. O’Brien to say anything which we have not independently observed about the Celestial Temple and its inhabitants. That is science. To teach religion would be the other things you mentioned: morality, wisdom, metaphysics. I doubt Mrs. O’Brien would be a good teacher of such things, not having any background in the faith, but to my understanding that is not what people are asking of her.”
“Maybe you should speak to the Commander about this,” Jabara suggested. Nerys found herself agreeing. Julian’s insights were not always useful, but this was. If more people thought this way, it would change relations between Starfleet and Bajor significantly for the better.
“It’s my understanding that the Commander is... touchy , about his role as the Emissary of the Prophets. I would try to speak to him, but I think he perhaps feels for Mrs. O’Brien in this situation, if he also feels pressured to adopt Bajoran perspectives more than he is ready to. Also,” Julian’s tone turned rueful, “others are not always willing to listen to me ramble on about things that aren’t medicine.”
Jabara laughed. “They aren’t even always willing to listen to you talk about medicine!” she exclaimed. “I’m fairly sure I could begin taking doctor’s examinations based on your tangents alone. Now, I enjoy medical lectures, but I think it might be a tad obscure for the layman.” They both laughed together, and, unseen by either of them, Nerys grimaced. It was true that she sometimes tuned Julian out when he got talking about something. She knew, from their first conversation, that sometimes his rambles were full of useful information and interesting perspectives, but Julian was hard to follow. She would have to try harder, she resolved. Sometimes she might find an ally in her efforts if she listened long enough.
For now, though, Nerys did have places to be. She had eavesdropped long enough. Perhaps, though, she could get Julian to explain his perspective to the Commander. Or to the senior officers. Soon, before this all got out of hand.
____________________________________
Nerys didn’t even have time to suggest that they sit down and work out a compromise before everything spiralled out of control—the discovery of the melted remains of Ensign Aquino, the bomb planted at the school, and, finally the revelation that everything was orchestrated by Vedek Winn in an attempt to assassinate Vedek Bareil. Overwhelmed by the pace of events and exhausted by the moral turmoil of the day, Nerys saw the Vedeks off the station and decided to head directly to bed. Neela was in custody, and there was nothing more to be done until Odo questioned her tomorrow.
Her plans derailed as she passed Quark’s and saw Julian inside talking to Chief O’Brien. The Chief appeared to be in his cups. Nerys had been meaning to speak to Julian about the conversation she had overheard yesterday, and she didn’t want to put it off any longer, so she turned into the bar and ordered herself a light springwine before heading for Julian’s table.
“What?!” Nerys heard the Chief exclaim as she approached.
“Maybe Neela did hear from the Prophets,” Julian said, with the air of someone repeating himself. For the second time in two days, Nerys made the quick and questionable decision to just listen in on Julian’s conversation instead of joining it. She changed tracks again and sat down at an empty table nearby, taking out a padd to disguise her eavesdropping.
“Julian, that’s ridiculous,” Chief O’Brien said, gesturing aggressively. “Have you not been paying attention to any of the discussions on the station?”
“Have you?” Julian retorted. “The Bajorans here do know the difference between science and mysticism, you know. What they don’t know is why it’s unscientific to describe their direct observations and experiences in their own terms, as I’ve already explained. And, if we accept that our scientific observation and Bajoran belief in the Celestial Temple and the Prophets broadly agree with each other, then there’s no reason to disbelieve that somebody might have received a vision from the Prophets, even one telling them to kill someone.”
Nerys watched over the top of her padd as the Chief looked askance at Julian. She felt her own skepticism returning as well—perhaps Julian was not the best lead for this discussion after all. The Prophets condemned killing except in self-defence. They would not command someone to kill another, particularly someone who could be as good for Bajor as Vedek Bareil.
“The Prophets don’t even really have to give a command, after all,” Julian explained, leaning in emphatically, “they just have to show you a future. Maybe the Prophets know that Vedek Bareil won’t be the next Kai. So you look into the Orb and see a future where someone else—maybe Vedek Winn—is Kai. But the polls don’t look that way. They look like Bareil will win. So maybe the Prophets are showing you their will, and it’s your responsibility to enforce it, by any means necessary. It all depends on how you understand the visions that the Prophets send.”
“I suppose,” O’Brien said. “I just... she was a sweet girl, Neela. Good at her job. Perhaps a bit too familiar, but that’s easy to fix by putting her to work somewhere else. She certainly didn’t seem like a murderer, or even like the kind of person who would choose murder as the way to achieve the Prophets’ will, or whatever. I don’t know much about Bajoran religion, but I’m pretty sure murder is against the rules.”
“If it helps, I don’t think that’s what happened. If anyone did have a vision, I think it was Vedek Winn, and even then, I would be surprised if there was ever actually a vision. She has a lot of power. She could have recruited Neela for the job and convinced her that this was what the Prophets demanded. How could Neela discern otherwise? I think she—Winn, I mean—made it all up.” Julian leaned back in his chair confidently.
“You’ve just spent all this time convincing me it might have been more than just a murder attempt that happened to ruin my wife’s life,” the Chief pointed out.
“Well, I wanted to point out that it would be possible!” Julian argued, “and it would, but to believe that was the answer here would ignore one crucial piece of evidence otherwise: Vedek Winn told your wife to seek the Prophets. She encouraged other people to tell her the same thing.”
“Yes, I recall,” the Chief grumbled, and Nerys, too, recalled the security footage of Mrs. O’Brien pulling him away from the jumja stand.
“Chief, Bajoran religion is closed. Bajorans don’t believe that people outside of Bajor have any obligation to follow the Prophets—in fact, their teaching is only for Bajorans and those select outsiders that the Prophets call, like the Emissary. Winn would have had to actively mislead her followers in order to make Keiko’s own religion a point of concern for them. If she was committed to the Prophets’ will, why would she lead their people to disobey their will en masse? That’s difficult to walk back. I think that Winn cares more about being Kai than about the will of the Prophets.”
“That may be,” the Chief grumbled, finishing his drink, “but honestly, Julian? I couldn’t care less whether it’s the will of the Prophets. She threatened my wife, and made her feel unwelcome on the station. I hope we never see her again.” He set his glass heavily on the table and stood up. “Thanks for the drink, but I’d best be getting home.”
“Of course. Send my regards to Keiko and Molly.”
Chief O’Brien grumbled something in response and left, leaving Julian smiling cheerily alone at his table. Before she lost her intention, Nerys stood up, walked over, and slipped into the spot the Chief had vacated.
“You’re right,” she opened.
Julian raised an eyebrow at her. “About what?”
She gestured vaguely, feeling self-conscious. “About all of it. Well, most of it.”
He tilted his head. “What did I get wrong?”
“I mean, your discussion of the Prophets does lack some nuance. But more importantly, you have to interpret the visions the Prophets send according to their pre-existing commandments. If you think a vision is asking you to kill someone, you must be wrong, because the Prophets forbid killing except in self-defence. The Resistance was self-defence. This would have been murder.”
Julian nodded. “That makes sense. You’ll have to teach me more nuance about the Prophets sometime, too, though I don’t know when you would have heard me talking much about them directly.”
Nerys felt herself flushing. “I may have overheard you talking to Nurse Jabara yesterday.”
Julian laughed. “Oh! That was a very nice conversation. This whole affair has been quite frustrating, to my mind. We should be able to find a middle ground that everyone is comfortable with.”
“Actually, I was hoping to speak to you about that,” Nerys grasped at the chance to reach her actual point. Julian leaned forward intently and listened carefully as she outlined her plan to get Mrs. O’Brien, a representative of the station Prylars, and the senior officers into a conference room to work out the curriculum issues. “I didn’t think that we would be able to resolve this one to everyone’s satisfaction,” she admitted, closing up, “but hearing you talking to Jabara yesterday was encouraging. If you can see another perspective, maybe you can help other Federationers to see it, too. I want you to be there, to tell them what you told Jabara.”
“I can do that,” he agreed. “But I can’t promise anything.”
“I know you’ll do your best,” Nerys said, and found to her surprise that she meant it. She was entirely confident that Julian would do his absolute best to help her, because that was just the kind of person he was. She was, she found, somewhat fond of that tenaciousness.
They sat in silence for a few moments, nursing their drinks, then something popped into Nerys’ mind that made her chuckle.
“What?”
“Just imagining what the Chief will think when Molly tells him she’s called by the Prophets,” she answered.
“How can you possibly know that?”
“I don’t, but I think Kai Opaka did. Remember that necklace the Kai gave to Chief O’Brien for his daughter?”
Julian’s own face was astonished. She laughed at his reaction. “You don’t think—really?”
“It’s just a hunch,” Nerys admitted, “but it’s a strong one. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
He seemed to think about it, and then he laughed, too. “That will be a sight,” he said, and then they were both laughing, and after the mess of the past couple days, Nerys thought, everything might work out after all.
____________________________________
A couple days later, Nerys found herself kneeling next to Jabara at a service in the shrine. She was distracted multiple times, thinking about what she had overheard the other day. When the service ended, she caught Jabara’s arm gently before the other woman could file out. Jabara looked alarmed at being singled out by the Major, so Nerys smiled reassuringly. Focused on her body language, she lost track of what, exactly, she meant to say.
“You should do it,” she blurted.
“I’m sorry? Do what?”
“Become a doctor,” she elaborated. “I’m sorry, I may have overheard you speaking with Dr. Bashir the other day. You mentioned taking doctor’s exams. You should do it.”
“I was only joking,” Jabara said, flustered, “I mean, I would like to. But I couldn’t really take the exams just off his rambling.”
“I mean, you should work towards it. There are programs being set up on Bajor to train people in necessary fields while they work. I’m sure you could train under a similar plan.” Nerys felt awkward, trying to explain herself. “You’re a good nurse. You would be a good doctor, and Bajor could use good doctors.”
Jabara blushed. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “Thank you, Major,” and then, “I hope, that is—I hope you didn’t find our conversation the other day... inappropriate? I was just curious about the Federation politics...”
“Oh, no, of course not!” Nerys was shocked. “I was just interested in what Dr. Bashir had to say, is all. I’m glad that you have a good working relationship.”
Jabara relaxed. “He’s a good doctor. People like him.” She paused. “Bajorans like him. Maybe better than other Starfleet officers.”
“Good,” said Nerys. “I mean, it’s good that they like him. I”m going to get him to help negotiate the new school curriculum.”
“That will help,” nodded Jabara.
They were the last people left in the shrine besides a prylar, who was awkwardly pretending to ignore them. Nerys started leading them towards the exit. “Just think about what I said,” she pressed as they passed out onto the Promenade, “I meant it.”
“I- I will.”
“Good,” said Nerys, decisively. Before she could second-guess herself, she smiled at Jabara, turned, and strode off. She had a shift to get to.
__________________________________
Nerys waited as the meeting room filled with people being awkwardly polite to each other—almost her least favourite social dynamic (except for any dynamic involving Gul Dukat). For this, though, she would bear it. Three station prylars ranged themselves along one side of the table. On the other, Jadzia was introducing herself to Keiko O’Brien, whom she had, apparently, not yet met in person. Sisko had another meeting, and had told her that he trusted her with this issue and expected a full report of her success. Julian came swinging in last, apologizing for some delay in the infirmary. He settled into an open chair and beamed at all and sundry.
“Thank you all for coming,” Nerys said, settling into her own seat. “I hope that, through conversation, we can come to some agreement.” There were murmurs of assent around the table. She smiled. “Good. Let’s begin.”