Lana accepted the flower and inhaled deeply of its sweet scent, smiling as her nose came alive with the almost intoxicating flavors. “It's beautiful.”
Dax was looking at her instead of the scenery, face characteristically emotionless but green eyes thoughtful. “Yes, it is.”
On impulse she tucked the flower behind the young man's ear, then turned away and threw her arms out and her head back, soaking in the sunlight. She did it partly so she could enjoy this incredible world he'd taken her to, but mostly it was because she was embarrassed by the tears that had sprung to her eyes as the full enormity of what she was experiencing sank in.
Was this really artificial reality? It seemed impossible that this clearing speckled with wildflowers, the air fragrant with their scent and a sharper, more woody bite from the nearby trees, the sunlight shining on her face and warming her hair and skin, the sound of flowing water and birdsong and the drone of insects, and . . .
No. The Last Stand, with its unimaginative gray corridors and tiny rooms, without even windows and nothing to see out them but space anyway, that had to be the fake reality. This, this was so real that she found herself not even caring that it wasn't, or that that didn't make any sense.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Dax,” she murmured. “Thank you . . . I needed this and I didn't even know.”
“This is just the beginning.” He motioned, and suddenly the meadow and forest were gone.
Lana gasped as she found herself atop a dizzyingly high mountain peak, only a few steps away from a drop of what had to be hundreds or even thousands of feet. Smaller peaks marched away to all sides, disappearing into the horizon with hints of pale yellow and green foothills and then golden plains beyond.
Dax's hand supported her reassuringly as she stumbled in surprise. And when she shivered violently at a sudden blast of bitter wind, lungs continuing to gasp as they struggled to suck in the thin air, he waved again and suddenly she was as comfortable as she'd been in the meadow.
“Sorry, I usually like to experience these environments in all their harsh glory,” he said, handing her a coat she no longer really needed that had appeared in his hands. She put it on anyway, more at the memory of the chill than out of any discomfort.
They stayed long enough for her to appreciate the beauty of the peaks around her, the young man explaining where on Homeworld they'd been and some of their history. Then they were off to the golden plains she'd seen in the distance, where she laughed and rolled in the long, scratchy grass while he watched her with a hint of bewilderment peeking through his stoic exterior.
Or at least she liked to think that was his response.
They continued on to one place after another, spending a few minutes at each: hills, valleys, mountain meadows, forests of all descriptions, including forested slopes so steep and thickly wooded that movement was impossible and the air was dim and green around them like twilight. Frozen tundras, glaciers like marching battlements, fjords that took her breath away brooding grimly over surging waves that lashed violently at their stony feet far below.
Jungles, oceans, rivers as wide as lakes, and lakes she couldn't see the end of. Islands, deserts, wastelands with massive rock formations carved by the elements into breathtaking majesty. Even views from space far above Homeworld's surface, the air purple-black around them and the green and brown and white and gray and blue of water and land full of life curving away in all directions.
Dax had just taken her to Homeworld's moon, for another view of the planet hanging like an enormous pristine gem in the distance, when Lana finally allowed herself a moment to settle in the soft dust that carpeted the moon's surface, giggling at how it puffed up around her in the lighter gravity.
This had been wonderful, beyond anything she could have hoped for while confined to the ship's gloomy interior. It really had been just what she needed without even knowing.
Her friend settled down beside her, so softly that he barely stirred up any dust, and together they stared up at distant Homeworld in contented silence.
“Dax,” she eventually said, reaching out to rest her fingers lightly on his arm. “You're the most hardworking person on this ship, and don't seem to care about anything but duty, but even so you're the only one who seems to notice or care when I'm struggling and need help. Why are you so nice to me?”
The young man straightened to his familiar tense posture, clasping his hands in his lap and staring at the distant planet. When he replied it was in a soft voice, almost as if he was speaking to himself. “I meant it when I said I know what it's like to feel like this ship is your whole world, the only thing you've ever experienced.”
His piercing green eyes narrowed, troubled, and she felt the urge to hug him comfortingly. But she hesitated, afraid he'd get embarrassed and stop talking just when he finally seemed to be opening up. After a few moments, he continued quietly. “I've been there too . . . suddenly finding yourself on the Last Stand, alone and friendless and confused about who you are, why you're here, or what you should do.”
Dax turned to look at her, and in spite of his blank expression his eyes blazed with deep feeling. “You're my friend, Lana. The only one who's ever treated me like a real person, not caring if anyone disapproved. The thought of you having to go through what I did on this ship, with no one to offer you a kind word or helping hand . . . I couldn't bear it.”
Lana's vision blurred with sudden tears, making her almost miss as she leaned over and threw her arms around him,
