“...So then I said, okay, I guess I'm not human, or something like that. And she stopped talking to me." He ran his fingers over the piano keys, working around the glass he'd deliberately deposited in the middle of the keyboard. The sound had long since died away from when he'd first set down the near-empty glass of scotch.

“Did you stop talking to her first?"

Endar glared at the man leaning on the piano, elbow supporting his upper body as he listened. “No!" He reconsidered. “Well, I might not have answered. I was mad, I didn't wanna say somethin' we'd both regret, so I didn't say anything...."

Vic shook his head. “Pally, that ain't no way to handle a woman!"

“I wasn't trying--“ His voice raised.

“And it's certainly no way to treat a friend!" Vic continued emphatically.

“Are you trying to make me mad?" Endar complained more crossly.

Vic just shrugged, his expression somehow mingled fondness and teasing. “I'm a glorified light bulb. What makes you think I'd try to make you mad?"

Endar slouched on the piano bench, moodily staring into the dregs of amber fluid in the glass perched precariously on the keys.

“Ya know, if you knock that over, you're gonna owe me the cost of a tuning. Maybe even for replacing some keys."

“Awh, just reset the program to before it spills!"

Vic nodded. “I suppose I could."

“It'd be like nothin' ever happened."

“Ya can do that with holograms," Vic mused. “Can't do that with living, breathing people. They don't fix that easy."

“You think I don't know that?" Endar muttered.

“And even if ya could fix it so they never knew what happened, you'd still know."

“Is this goin' somewhere?"

The hologram continued as if he hadn't spoken. “Naw, you can't make it like it never was when you've hurt someone. Real people aren't computer programs that ya can just reset. Nope, ya gotta make it up to ‘em. Ya gotta be honest. Ya gotta fix it."

Endar shifted as if the wooden bench was uncomfortable.

“A sweetie like Ezri," Vic said thoughtfully, “she won't let on she's been hurt by someone, if they pretend it didn't happen, unless she thinks they need to be called on it, as part of her job or somethin'. But she deserves to be treated better than that. Especially if you wanna keep her as a friend. Friends deserve that."

“Easy for you to say."

“Maybe." The hologram shrugged.

Endar ran a finger around the rim of the glass. “What if there are things you realize you can't tell ... a friend?"

“Do you think she won't be your friend anymore? From what I've seen, she's stuck by you so far, in spite of everything that's happened."

“Yeah.... But this is Ezri...."

“And real friendship takes honesty, opening up to people."

The man's expression looked briefly haunted. “But there's some things...."

Silence.

“Well, you gotta know what you need to do."

Endar thought for a moment, then stood up suddenly, picking up the glass as he moved.

“Done playin' already?" the hologram asked.

“I got something else I need to do."

Vic smiled. “Glad to hear it."

Her scheduled counseling sessions finished for the day, Ezri wound up at Quark's. She hoped to hear that he had heard from Rionoj and she'd made contact after all. But his skittish expression told her not to bother asking. Instead, she wound up sitting in a corner, pretending to be diligently studying a PADD any time anyone seemed to be looking her way or walking near. She waved off a waiter twice before the Ferengi took the hint and left her alone.

After a bit, she had a prickly feeling that she was being watched in spite of her effort to be left alone.

Dax looked around.

She spotted Endar Alden, leaning against the bar with a mug in front of him, looking intently back at her.

Seeing he finally had her attention, the officer wove a path through the crowd in her direction.

“Hi, Ezri," he said, a little guardedly, she thought.

“Hi, Endar," she replied.

He gestured at the empty table with his free hand. “Mind if I join you? Or are you busy?"

She glanced down at the PADD, and realized she was on the same page as when she'd first sat down. “Nothing really important," she said, pushing it aside. “Have a seat, if that's what you were really asking."

“If that's what I was really asking?" he repeated.

“As opposed to, well, whatever else a person might have been asking. Sit down, Endar. Are you having a drink?"

He raised the mug. “Synthehol. Wouldn't have been my first choice, but I was really just waiting for you. And Quark told me I had to buy something, or play something, or get out. And since I'm due in Ops in less than an hour, I figured this was something you'd approve of."

“Does it matter whether I approve?" Dax regretted the words before they were out, but couldn't stop them.

A quick flash of anger lit his violet eyes, more slowly extinguished. “Yeah, it does," he replied quietly. He sat. “I ... needed to apologize for yesterday. I know temper's one of the things I'm working on, and.... I don't know why I lost it. I'm sorry."

She was surprised. “Endar...."

Anxiety crept into his expression. “I hope we're okay."

Dax smiled. “Apology accepted. We're okay." She sighed.

“Quark also mentioned that he hasn't heard anything from his Boslic friend."

“That's what he tells me, too."

“Got a back-up plan?" he asked.

“With Julian due back in two days, and the Klingons out of touch in the plasma storm, and Rionoj just as lost?" Ezri shook her head. “I even checked with Nerys. Any ships that might have been in the area are just as out of touch as the Klingons and Rionoj, and other vessels that might have been headed that way are changing their flight plans to avoid the storm. I'm afraid I've ... run out of options." She stared moodily into the distance.

Endar looked thoughtful as he took a drink, then made a face and coughed hoarsely. “This stuff is awful!"

“What is it?"

“Bajoran synthale. Quark recommended it."

“He recommended it? But he says it's dreadful!"

“Probably why he recommended it to me." Endar glowered into the mug. “And I even had to pay for the privilege."

“Bajorans and Cardassians are the only ones I know who seem to appreciate it. Nobody else I know really likes it. Although Benjamin ... Captain Sisko used to drink it once in a while. And Morn, but he'll drink anything, especially if someone else is buying!"

“Morn can have it!" Endar said firmly, and shoved the mug aside. “His taste in booze is as bad as his taste in women!"

“Hey, he liked Jadzia. And she was very fond of him, in some ways."

“Yeah, and she married a Klingon, so that isn't much of a recommendation for her taste either!"

“Let's not get into the Klingons again!"

“All right, all right!" He held up his hands in surrender. He studied the abandoned mug meditatively. “So what do we do, if we've run out of options?"

“What can we do?" She felt a sick feeling in her stomach. Admitting there was nothing more she could do made it all too real. In two days, Bashir would be back, and she would have to admit Kukalaka was gone. “I just hope that Rionoj eventually makes contact with the Klingons, and gets back with the bear. I'll have to tell Julian what happened, but at least I'll be able to get him back. As long as she does get back." She sighed. “I don't know how he'll ever really trust me again. Especially if Kukalaka is gone for good."

Endar was intent. “We've got two days, right?"

“Just two days."

“Then the war's not lost yet."

“Endar, even if Rionoj found the Klingons right this very minute, she wouldn't be able to get back before the Nightingale arrives! Not even at her ship's maximum warp!"

“Maybe she's already made contact and is on her way back!"

“Quark would tell me if he'd heard from her."

“Well, he might not know it yet himself." He nodded encouragingly. “Doc's not back yet. Just gotta trust, Ezri. It'll work out." A secretive, thoughtful smile crossed his face.

“How can you be so sure?"

“I'm not. But I got faith. I'll see you tomorrow. Right now, I gotta get to Ops. Due on duty. Dependable paper-pushing executive officer and night watchman, ya know." He grabbed the mug and absent-mindedly took a deep gulp. A second later, his tongue and stomach reminded his brain why it didn't care for the contents. He choked, then spewed as his stomach heaved and he dropped the mug, spilling the faux booze all over the table. Still coughing, he spat bits of foamy synthale, his face turning purple as he gasped for breath.

Ezri threw herself back in her chair, but couldn't avoid the cascade of Bajoran synthale that rushed across the table and poured off the edge into her lap.