Hippocratic Oath -- Episode Summary

 The Actual summary of the Star trek Deep Space Nine Episode Hippocratic Oath

Bashir and O'Brien have concluded a bio-survey in the Gamma Quadrant. They pick up a subspace magneton pulse. While investigating, the shuttle crash lands and they are taken prisoner by a renegade group of Jem'Hadar. Its leader, Goran'Agar, got free of his addiction to ketracel white on this planet, the drug that makes them dependent on the Founders. He's brought a group of Jem'Hadar to be cured too, but the planet's 'magic' doesn't work on them. He asks Bashir to help before their supply of white runs out. While the doctor wants to help them, O'Brien is adamantly opposed. Meanwhile, back on the Deep Space Nine station, Worf spots a known criminal in Quark's bar. He thinks the Ferengi is plotting something and is getting increasingly agitated by the way Odo handles security on the station. Worf decides to take matters into his own hands.

My Summary of the episode

Among Star Trek fans this episode serves to empathize the difference between Doctor Bashir and O'Brien's approaches. Frequently the only question stemming from it is whether O'Brien was justified in doing what he did at the end.

Having learned a thing or two about TNG O'Brien since first watching the episode I know his straight-forward 'he's the enemy' perspective actually is true to the character. And personally I love every moment Julian learns another way in which the Jem'Hadar leader is different and this is something he wholeheartedly believes in and could follow. What makes everything work in the end, even after O'Brien destroys his research forcing his escape is the moment he tells Bashir why he did it. It wasn't because he wanted the Jem'Hadar to die or because he was a solider. It was because it was the only way he knew to save Julian's life. He flat out says that "Whatever else you may think of me or what I did; I hope you understand that." Which clears the air and makes forgetting this 'overstep' not only possible but the most natural thing in the world.

I was always with Bashir and O'Brien's stance always seemed unnatural to me. If his attitude here throws you for as much of a loop, watch the season 4 TNG episode 'The Wounded'. O'Brien is a solider who has seen war and sees things with the simplicity of a solider. Adding all this together and the entire episode is superbly crafted and deeply awesome.

Hippocratic oath notes (both mine and Internet Movie Databases)

The writers saw the B-story of this episode as an important indication of how DS9's Worf was going to be different from TNG's Worf. As Ronald D. Moore explains, "He used to be a cop, more or less, on the USS Enterprise-D, but it's not going to be like that anymore. We wanted to keep emphasizing, 'this is not TNG. The station doesn't work like the Enterprise. Worf is going to have some troubles fitting in, but he's going to learn.'"

This episode came from two separate story pitches by two different writers. The first, from Nicholas Corea, was based around the story of a group of Jem'Hadar who were trying to free themselves from their addiction to ketracel-white, the first time the name is used. Previously, it had been described as a "missing enzyme" in "The Abandoned" and simply as a drug to which the Jem'Hadar are addicted in "The Die is Cast". The second, from Lisa Klink, was about O'Brien and Bashir taking opposing sides in a conflict on an alien world - O'Brien sided with the natives, Bashir with the non-natives. The producers liked the idea of Klink's concept, putting O'Brien and Bashir on diametrically opposed sides, but they felt that the details weren't quite right and they got Klink to re-pitch the story several times with different plot elements in place. Producers referred to her story as their The Bridge on the River Kwai episode, and they likened Bashir to Col. Nicholson, the character in that film played by Alec Guinness, who effectively helps the 'enemy'. The problem with Klink's story was that producers couldn't decide exactly what it was that Bashir was trying to do for the enemy, what was causing the conflict between himself and O'Brien - what was the 'Bridge'? Eventually, it was René Echevarria who suggested putting Klink's story together with Corea's, thus providing the Bridge - Bashir was trying to help the Jem'Hadar beat their addiction, and O'Brien was against this idea.

In an interview with the official Star Trek website in 2011, director Rene Auberjonois thought this episode was the one that stood out the most for him out of the eight he directed throughout Deep Space Nine. – constable Odo directed 'Hippocratic Oath' and 7 other episodes When Sisko explains to Worf how Deep Space Nine is different from the Enterprise, he says "Let's just say DS9 has more shades of gray." His sentence has a double meaning. He is talking about DS9 as an in-universe place (in contrast with the Enterprise), but also about the TV show itself, which famously had more moral ambiguity than Star Trek: The Next Generation (where Worf says he "always knew who were my allies and who were my enemies").

When O'Brien confirms Goran'Agar's question about being a soldier, this is in reference to O'Brien's service during the Federation-Cardassian War, and the Setlik III massacre, mentioned in "The Wounded".

...O'Brien's attitude of the Jem'Hadar being the enemy as well as seeing things with the straight forward simplicity of a solider in the first place make a lot more sense if you've seen 'The Wounded'. At this time they were not yet at war with the Dominion and it seems rather out of character for O'Brien to be seeing things in such absolutes.

There's a degree of irony with the moral dilemma faced by Bashir and O'Brien - Bashir, despite being a character created for the more morally ambiguous series 'Deep Space Nine' - with many "shades of gray" as Sisko says - takes the more tolerant and forward-thinking attitude with the Jem'Hadar, whereas O'Brien, who served on the Enterprise with the famously tolerant and forward-thinking Jean-Luc Picard on 'The Next Generation', is the one that takes a more hostile and narrow-minded view to the issue. Bashir behaved far more closely to what Picard would have approved of, rather than O'Brien. The storyline of this episode has parallels to the TNG episode 'I, Borg' (1992), which had a very similar moral dilemma.

...While this may be true, I personally don't think it's very ironic which side they fall on. Dr. Bashir is trained to provide help to anyone who needs it. Whether they are 'the enemy' or not. He is led by compassion and his human heart which gets him into trouble or some kind of hot water all the damn time on the station. O'Brien is pragmatic and thinking bigger picture, and his belief that Bashir's bleeding heart might get them into serious freaking trouble is realistic for someone who works with machines and was once a solider himself. O'Brien might have served under Picard absolutely was the most compassionate and philosophical leader in all of freaking Starfleet. Bashir's attitude IS one of the moral shades of gray. His attitude is what presents the moral dilemmas with which the characters of Star Trek Deep Space Nine are so often faced.

Earning Superman's respect

This is part 2 of a scene. I haven't written part one yet because I wanted to get this right first. It's called this because it is the first time a Xavallens reaction to a species other than White Martians is ever mentioned. Infernians effect them in a similar way. Also the effect the entire conversation has on Superman is that Hank Henshaw inadvertently proves himself.

An excerpt from my latest story. Taking place on the 'Earth 9' that I created. Narrated by Superman. The main point is that Director Hank Henshaw ACCIDENTLY (or at least indirectly) earns Superman's respect.

“I have to agree with Superman on this one.” Hank Henshaw said in his deliberate tone. “You didn't fail in your duty, you performed exceptionally. And I am sorry but I have to ask why you didn't tell me you have such a severe reaction to even the presence of Infernians?”

“I didn't realize there were any Infernians on Earth. There's no reason for it.” She looked over at me and back at Henshaw. “He's from further away than either of us.” She explained.

“Well that makes sense.” I conceded. “What did you say to him anyway?”

“I'm pretty sure I told him that he was thinking with his weapons rather than what little of his brain existed. I'll have to brush up on the regional." Now it was my turn to look confused. "I didn't say something in his language. I spoke in a language I knew he would understand. a language that everyone in his part of that galaxy understands at least enough of to get by. The same way France, Germany and the Netherlands all speak English, even though it's none of thier native languages. To continue the metaphor, I need to learn if English is used differently in Germany than it is in France. It's a lot easier for Xavallens, Enkarens and Atraxi to understand each other. We all speak the same native language. A language by the way that has more in common with Aramaic or Arabic than with English. You can let go of me now Superman.”

I did. And then I smiled. “That's the first time you've actually called me that.”

Infernian Effect

Superman is recounting the story months later. Telling a new agent Winn Schott of the first time the three of them became a team.

Nikita sat on the edge of the bio-bed. Her hands and head entirely still. Her eyes nothing if not sad. “He got away didn't he?” She said suddenly.

“Don't worry about that right now, Nikita, okay?”

“I told that guy to get out of here or face some heat vision and he followed my advice. How can you get any more responsible for an adversary's escape than that?”

“Right now I'm more interested in what exactly happened out there?” Director Henshaw said as he walked up to her, stopping about 4 feet away.

“I didn't know he was Infernian. I'm sorry.”

“I've never known you to be scared fo anything, not even me. I can't believe you were somehow paralyzed by fear.”

“I wasn't. I mean I was paralyzed but it wasn't by fear, or any other emotion for that matter. My people are sensitive to two races in the galaxies. Infernians are one of them. In layman's terms by body had an allergic reaction to his physiology.”

“I could tell you seemed to be struggling through the pain. I honestly thought it was some kind of psychic attack. When you warned him away I knew it must be something else. But you still managed to keep your wits about you enough to know I was coming and to warn him away. That's impressive, not disappointing.” Nikita looked at him a moment. "Super hearing. I literally heard you from 20 blocks away. that's how I got there so fast."

“I have to agree with Superman on this one.” Hank said in his deliberate tone. “You didn't fail in your duty, you performed exceptionally. And I am sorry but I have to ask why you didn't tell me you have such a severe reaction to even the presence of Infernians?”

“I didn't realize there were any Infernians on Earth. There's no reason for it.” She looked over at me and back at Henshaw. “He's from further away than either of us.” She explained.

“Well that makes sense.” I conceded. “What did you say to him anyway?”

“I'm pretty sure I told him that he was thinking with his weapons rather than what little of his brain existed. I'll have to brush up on the regional." Now it was my turn to look confused. "I didn't say something in his language. I spoke in a language I knew he would understand. a language that everyone in his part of that galaxy understands at least enough of to get by. The same way France, Germany and the Netherlands all speak English, even though it's none of thier native languages.  To continue the metaphor, I need to learn if English is used differently in Germany than it is in France. It's a lot easier for Xavallens, Enkarens and Atraxi to understand each other. We all speak the same native language. . A language by the way that has more in common with Aramaic or Arabic than with English. You can let go of me now Superman.”

I did. And then I smiled. “That's the first time you've actually called me that.”

“And from this point on, when the occasion calls for it I will. In the field and on the job that's what I'll call you. I'll only call you Kal'el when we're off duty.” She laughed wearily.

“Nikita, are you sure you're alright?”

“Yes, I am recovered. Just uncertain.” She glanced at Director Henshaw with a meaning I wasn't sure I wanted to understand. So I took a step back. “ Hank, I am fully expecting you to yell at me.”

“For what?”

“For screwing up the mission so badly. For letting that guy escape. This isn't me being hard on myself Hank. I failed in my duty. I didn't just let the guy get away; I told him to go.”

“Why do you think that's what happened?” Hank asked her bluntly but respectfully. “I mean, yes you did say that. But why are you so convinced you did anything less than your duty?”

“Second that.”

“Because it's my job to be ready for those things and I screwed up the mission.” She said without turning to look at me. Then the look on her face changed. I could tell she had seen something in Henshaw's face and her face suddenly cleared up. Like a cold wind blew the white clouds away and suddenly she saw something clearly. But I still couldn't tell you what. A moment late Hank's face got the same look.

“You're expecting a reprimand?” Henshaw said blankly. I admit I didn't understand his confusion. 'Of course she's expecting you to dress her down, rack her over the coals and such. She doesn't know anything else from you'. I feel kind of stupid about it now but that was my reaction. 

She was unique among D.E.O agents not just because she herself was an alien, but because she had once been a prisoner here, under Henshaw. I knew a little bit of their history together, and that it took Jeremiah's death to put it behind them. So her expectation made sense to me. When she next spoke it was in a crisp, clear tone full of as much dignity and restraint as if a Air Force Captain was addressing a 2-star General. “If I were any other agent, it's what you would do. ”

“If any other agent had a panic attack in the middle of a combat situation, yelling at them would be the last thing I would do.”

And for the first time I felt something approaching respect for Hank Henshaw. And I was soon to understand for the first time that he was never the heartless jerk to Nikita I had always assumed.

“How do you mean?”

“I always assumed Nikita was a hero for having so quickly forgiven Hank his previous actions. But far from throwing away a 'hot coal' so it wouldn't burn her, Nikita never had one to hold on to. She had always respected Hank.”

I looked over at Director Henshaw to try to convey my appreciation of the situation. And I saw something that would have taken my breath away. Hank was looking at her with a look of sympathy, and obviously trying very hard not to embrace her. That's when I decided I could call him 'Hank' as often as Nikita does and not feel awkward about it. If he was okay with it.

“Director, I really think I should escort Nikita back to her quarters. And then I'll start X-ray visioning the city for that Infernian.”

“Understood Superman and agreed...on both counts.”

After we'd gotten into the hallway and Nikita informed be she could walk a few paces on her own, I turned around and walked back up to Hank, who was standing there, almost as if waiting for me to say something. “I was wrong about you, Director. And I'm sorry.”

“That means a lot to hear you say that.” Was all he said at first. “I take it Nikita has finally convinced you of the sincerity of her feelings.”

“More like you've finally convinced me you deserve her high esteem. It was never about my father Hank. Not what happened to him anyway. I hope you understand...what I'm trying to say here.”

“I believe so. And as I said...this means a lot to hear you say that.”

“Do you mind if I just call you 'Hank' from now on?” I blurted out.

“Most people at the D.E.O call me by by first name. It feel appropriate, like you were part of the team here if you did. And no I wouldn't mind it.” Hank looked at me with a kindly smile. “I'll call you Superman for the sake of secret identities. But I want you to know, I respected your father. I regret that I never told him so. Nikita is the only person alive who can tell me what your father would have said. They were together on such things. But she is also someone he risked everything for. Aside from you and Alex she is the only person Agent Danvers ever cared for. And I am not about to fail him twice...” His words actually failed him.

“It's your way of honoring Jeremiah...protecting her.”

'Well, you certainly don't need anyone's protection.”

“Heh. Fair point.”

Perfected Heavenly Journeys

Almost as soon as he'd arrived in the desert, he'd been 'greeted' by a Saracen lord and his attendant. The lord had challenged him for possession of the horse he'd rescued from his shipwreck. Initially the man had charged Balian while remaining on his horse. On foot he'd barely stood a chance. It wasn't long into the 'skirmish' Balian declared himself the Baron of Ibelin and demanded a fair fight. After the claim was translated by his attendant, the lord obliged. A fair fight was not only deserved, it was expected. Balian won the skirmish easily. The blood from the final wound had gotten all over the servant's horse. An instant later the man was flat on his back in the sand. Walking up to him, Balian noticed he had a young, handsome face, and strangely showed no sign of distress, he put his hands in front of himself, palms up.

“I understand.” Balian responded. “It's not needful, but I understand. Get up.”

The stranger did so. It was only after he found a pack of dates and seeds, shoving several handfuls into his mouth, that he spoke again. “You have taken it very well I have killed your master.” The man didn't answer verbally, only gave a perplexed look. “Why are you not upset?” Balian clarified.

“We are taught nothing happens to those who believe unless Allah has made it so. I have no reason to regret my master is now in paradise. Although I could wish he had not left so suddenly.”

“I believe I understand. We can't stay out here. Take me to Jerusalem?”

“I will bring you.” The man said, easily.

“How long though? I mean the journey, how far are we away from Jerusalem?”

“We should be there by nightfall.” Came the instant, soft reply.

The assertion was perfect. It was almost dusk when they trotted their horses close to the walls of the Holy City. Balian had kept side by side with his companion riding this far, but pulled himself just barely ahead of the stranger as they drew close. It was a gesture the man apparently understood as he slowed his steed and lowered his head slightly. A palm tree stood not far from the David Gate. It was a good place to rest. Balian drank a gulp of water and offered it to the stranger; an offer the man politely declined. Balian had remounted his horse at trotted several paces to the gate before he realized he was traveling alone.

“What is the matter?” Balian asked, looking back with a concerned expression.

“If it's all-right, I'll put a cloak around my face.” Came the cryptic reply.

“That's fine. But that's not what I mean.” Balian said shortly.

“Please, let it wait until we are safe, and a good way inside.”

“...All-right.”

The city of children and soldiers that was Jerusalem sprawled out before them. After passing some pottery stalls and more than a few fruit and herb sellers, Balian stopped in front of a water trough. The stranger dismount and patted the neck of the steed he'd been riding. After rummaging around in his sack he found a carrot stub to offer the beast.

“...Either you hide your feelings well or your people are not as passionate as we are led to believe.” Balian said suddenly. “I meant to explain my last question. I don't know much about life here but it IS strange to me...I don't even know your name?”

“I am called Nassir. 'champion' or 'supporter'. What do you intend to do with me?”

“I can't ask you to follow me.” Balian replied thoughtlessly. “I go to the mound at Gethsemane. I am Godfrey's son, the baron of Ibelin, yet I'm a stranger here. I don't know what following me would mean for you. Will you be all-right on your own?”

The shock on Nassir's face was considerable. “I...yes. Your style makes sense now. Your fighting style I mean. It was unlike anything taught here. That last move in particular. I admit, I do not understand why...” His words failed him completely.

“Why I refuse to take you with me against your will as a slave, a prisoner or some such mess? In the village I'm from...I was not a slave but had no other status. I will not use a title I'm not sure I earned to make anyone feel inferior. Go. What was the name of the man I killed?”

“His name was Mummad-al-Fais.”  He said as he mounted his horse. And looked at Balian for a moment. "I thank you for your kindness." With that he raised a hand, palm up, and rode away.

“Tiberius, will you ask the king if my friend may come with me?”

“I need not.” the Marshall replied. “The king is eager to meet him.”

I walked a couple of paces behind Balian as we were led before Baldwin IV. There were few candles in the sitting room. I somewhat expected to be either announced or scowled at the instant the king saw my face. Neither happened. I simply bowed at the waist and smiled faintly.

'Salaam Ali-kum.” the king told me in a cordial tone.

“Alai-i-kum Salaam.” I answered. “I hope you will not think it empty praise or false courtesy if I say this is truly an honor and a privilege.”

“What may I call you?”

“I...I am called Nassir, majesty.” Stunned as I was, I could not say any more than that. He did know me, and remembered even now that I could not always be the same as I was.

“My friend,” The king said to Balian. “We have decided that you shall take command of the armies of Jerusalem. Guy will not be satisfied with his position in the shadow the threat you represent. He will meet what he perceives as enemies of God. Will you look after my nephew as you've watched over me?”

“I will do what I can..” Balian answered softly.

“There is more. Would you marry my sister Sybilla were she free of Guy DeLusigian?”

My friend was quiet for such a long time after that I almost feared for his health. “If she were somehow free of her marriage, I would join with her. But I will not cause her to be free of Guy of her husband so I can be with her. Unless he can be gone without being killed I must refuse.”

“You'd rather risk a war at his hands than be with a woman you love?” The Marshall curtailed.

“I would rather preserve my own soul and leave the rest of the matter to God himself, yes.” Balian answered firmly. “Believe me when I tell you, God can make a way for his will and his plan for this world, whether we who claim to shape our own lives see a path or not. I will not presume to make God's will happen, even if I could claim to know what it was. 'A king may move a man, but the soul belongs to the man'...You told me once. You have my love, but I cannot...'gain the whole world and forfeit my own soul'.”

“I believe I understand.” Was Baldwin's only verbal response. He seemed resigned to what he saw as the only alternative: a war with my people.

“Forgive me,” I whispered. “but I believe I know another way.”

“You have our undivided attention.” Tiberias told be plainly.

“Guy is as war hungry and power-mad as the lord at Kerak. If he declared to meet my people in battle, he would lead the fight himself, whether his actions are sanctioned or not?”

“Undoubtedly. But how does going to war help? That's what we are trying to avoid.”

“A battle will eventually break out anyway, no matter what any of us do.” I answered as simply as I could. “The fear of war will not keep a fragile peace in place for long. Not when so many of us, on both sides, yearn for the victor of winning a war over the other side. Except victory is assured for only one side when the fighting does start. Without stratagem or divine intervention, Guy would never win a battle against my lord Saladin. I believe Balian and I were brought together for some great good, beyond changing each-other's minds. Until now, I could not see for myself what else might change for the better.”

“I hope you're not suggesting we ensure Guy's death in battle. That would be much the same.”

“You wanted a way for him to be...not a threat but not murdered. And I am not saying we should do anything to ensure his defeat. Only that you not actively work against his plans. The mullah is always saying that God alone determines the results of battles. It seems Guy and his men also believe this. I am saying let him start a battle with my people...And it will be that much easier to avoid a war breaking out between our peoples. Unless it's by his own hand, Guy would almost certainly not be killed in the battle. War has seemed like a dream of glory or a nightmare one cannot escape for so long now. I know it sounds horrible but nothing is helped by a lack of conflict based solely on the dread of it. Each of us need to see this thing clearly., both people who yearn for and who fear battle. I believe we would all make the choice to avoid all out war if faced with the reality of such a conflict.”

“Strange as it is to hear you say this; I honestly think it makes sense.” Balian whispered.

“We agree.” Baldwin IV answered. “When I am gone, you must not encourage him in this endeavor. But neither should you stand in his way.”

“Forgive me sire, but may I withdraw?” I asked the king. “You have my love, but the destiny of your kingdom is your own. I wish neither credit nor blame for what happens to belong to me. As odd as this may sound...you are masters of your own fate here.”

“Self-destiny Sajiq?” The king told me in easily. “Of course, but stay nearby alright.”

“Of course sire.” I answered him. I bowed and withdrew.

Several minutes later I was waiting outside, in the corridor or passage not too far from the king's quarters. I saw a young boy watching me. He was richly dressed but seemed so quiet and withdrawn, he might have been the son of a servant. He did not back away as I walked up to him. I stopped about 30 paces away and smiled, as softly as I knew how.

“Salaam little one.” I told the boy. He looked at me with a kind smile and some wonder.

“Ala-i-kum Salaam.” He told me in a soft, firm voice. “Who are you?”

“I am called Nassir. I was a solider in Saladin's army. And when Balian found me...Forgive me sire I didn't realize.” I put my hands behind my back and bowed my head.

“I'm not king yet.” He told me. “Even if I were, you would not be one of my subjects.”

“Yes I would. I am not one of your people, but for as long as I live in Jerusalem I am one of your subjects. And I am honored to be.” He looked at me as if asking for clarification, so I continued. “I am not one of your people, I gladly live under your authority. I...I served Baldwin's father here in court before my lord Saladin called me back to Damascus. I follow my friend Balian the lord of Ibelin. Balian has sworn an oath to serve the peace and the king. I give you my word sire, I will do the same.”

“You are a nobleman among your people?” I heard a woman's voice ask.

I turned and the Princess of Jerusalem looked at me. I bowed at the waist and raised myself. “Yes, Milady. Though I would prefer to leave that alone for the moment. I'm not here because of who I am to my people, but because my lord Balian was invited to speak with the king and asked me to come with him.”

“You know Balian?” She told me. I could make nothing of her tone.

“I honor him and I love him.” She looked at me sharply. “You find it strange I should feel such things? He set me free. When he thought I was nothing more than a servant, and had the right to claim me as his prisoner or his slave he set me free. We parted with sincere wishes of peace that day, and very much on even ground. That unto itself would in-debt me to him. I am endeared to him for another reason.”

“He seems to inspire loyalty as well as confidence. And I know him well, for having known him hardly at all. Why do you cling so much to him?”

The Marshall Tiberias walked up at that moment. I was never happier to be interrupted in a conversation. Balian himself did not fully know the reason or depth of my affection for him. It would be wrong to tell any one else before speaking the truth to his face. So I simply bowed my head and asked if I could go wait for Balian. Sybilla did not seem to have a problem with this. Nor did the young man. Tiberias himself seemed to have a problem with my courtesies however. He asked the two royals to go ahead of him to the great hall and as soon as they were out of earshot, he turned to me with cold eyes. “Why do you hide who you are?”

“I do not know what they would expect of me.” I answered. “I am a stranger to them, and they do not know my history. That being so, I cannot expect them to treat me as Baldwin himself might do.”

“That's what I'm asking. Why do you not tell them who you are.”

“This is who I am.” I told him rather shortly. “Hiding my condition is not lying about my quality. I am showing them exactly who I am, not what the world would call me. Balian and I share many qualities. But none more than this: a desire to be seen as who, not what we are. For our friends to understand that who we are is showed and proved by our hearts and minds more than any title or label we are given, would be the most glorious hope we could achieve. I will not claim my rank as though it were my identity. PLEASE do not treat me as if the ceremony of my position defined the quality of my heart.”

“You are so much like Balian...And Godfrey.” Tiberias told me smoothly.

“I was surprised Balian is so much like his father. I'll take that as praise not a compliment.”

“Is there a difference?” Tiberias asked me easily.

“Your intentions in what you say can make something a false compliment, or empty flattery. Praise is by definition sincere. The way we would praise God, it cannot be out of selfish ambition or deceit. It's how our language is formed. Apparently even changed to French the thought remains.”

“A nice thought. There is one thing in this to praise that has barely been mentioned yet.”

I was about to ask Tiberias to elaborate on his comment, but Balian walked up to me, not having heard anything but the last bit of what I'd said. I smiled faintly, told Tiberias 'Au revoir' and we parted ways. Balian and I were not thirty paces down the hall when he turned to face me squarely. “We need to talk.”

“Indeed so.” I answered. I did not look him in the face until we returned to Almaric's house. The solider had not said much to me since his questions about my choice to remain as I am. I couldn't help hoping the weight on Balian's mind was unrelated. The thought of having that conversation so much was already about to change, was intimidating. Balian led me to the room I had chosen as my own, and almost as soon as we both entered, he sank to the floor. I crouched in front of him, trying to read the expression on his face.

“I agree with you. Guy must be allowed to believe he's succeeded. He cannot be openly opposed to any avail as leader of the armies. I want to hear from you, without reservation...”

“I want this peace to last beyond Baldwin's reign. I know you feel the same.”

“Yes. I just wish I didn't feel like I was sending a man to his death to ensure that peace.”

“Guy will lose. I am almost certain he will not die. He cannot defeat my lord Saladin in combat. It is logic and numbers that my people will win. It does not have to lead to all out war. Without the likes of Guy and Reynald stirring up trouble, your testimony and mine will stand for our intentions.” Balian looked up sharply. A smile smile started to appear on his face. “What is it?”

“For a moment it sounded like you'd placed yourself on our side of this divide. I understand you meant those of us who seek peace rather than war, on both sides of this nonsense. You and I hold to our faith rather than our religion and have a sense of compassion that is not limited to our own people. Still...it was both a surprise and a....” His voice faded and he looked at his hands. “What do you think of me?”

“You are a man of honor and seek peace within yourself and with others.” I had to slow myself down to avoid laughing out loud. “You care more about pleasing God than what any one here thinks of you...whether they are your fellows in rank or your followers. More strange and wonderful is you trust what you yourself believe God is like. You chase after the will of God through your own eyes instead of what anyone else would tell you God is like...what they believe God would have you do. And because of this you see both the heart of God and the reality of life more clearly than anyone except Father David ever would.”

“ 'Father David'?”

“That is what my people call the knightly priest I met here. He is as much a true shepherd of his flock as he is an example of what true faith is. He's the only man I ever knew before I challenged you, to understand that faith, when it is real is good...no matter which religion it supports. But he had holy orders...It was to be expected he would see spiritual matters more clearly.”

“What is the matter?” Balian asked in a quiet voice.

“Almaric asked me once how much I gave up to come here. He wanted to know what my life had been like among my own people, as if what I lost was the measure of what I had gained. But I don't see it as losing anything. My life here with you has been sweeter and more...has been and is worth more to me than anything I gave up when I followed you here. God himself must have more of a reason to bring us together. I should not speak for God. I honestly didn't mean to. There is more we can do here together for our peoples and the peace Baldwin has maintained these past six years than we ever could have without each-other. But that is not the only reason, is it? If everything we think is about to happen actually does come to pass...I hope that will not be the final...I hope we may stay together even after this scene in the play of this world comes to a close. My life was richer just for knowing you better. I hope you feel the same way.”

“The friendship we have runs deeper than words or thoughts could express? I do. God might have put us together on this earth for some great good. I'm just glad I was able to know someone like you.”

“It is indeed a mysterious move of God that I...” Balian started to glare at me. “WE found someone so much like ourselves on the opposite sides of whatever line our peoples draw to divide ourselves. Which I suppose is part of the reason I feel so certain of this, and so hopeful.”

“Remind me to ask you what the story of your life has been like!” Balian exuded. I was surprised and for once I did not bother hiding it. “I knew you were an officer in the army, our equal of a knight. But I didn't know you were also this educated and gentle.”

“Sajiq, I consider the question asked. I'll tell you. If you had to find out the truth when we spoke with Saladin, that would be a shame and an embarrassment I could not live with. I would be devastated if even for one second you thought I was a liar. Saladin would be disappointed in me if I'd hid such a thing.”

“You said something like it before. I take it there was more to it than I knew?”

“Even knowing Guy's temperament and the inexperience of the king, my lord Saladin would need assurance that Guy was not sanctioned when he leads the charge against my people. That is where my testimony becomes both needful and perfectly sincere. Aside from the fact that such a moment is not fit for a revelation, you deserve to know this instant why it would make a difference.”

“I...I do not understand.”

I had known this moment was coming. I was certain he would accept me for what I was. I hoped he would forgive my concealing myself this far.. I was beginning to suspect Balian would understand and see my heart better than most, and would know where to look, what was important. I clasped his hands in mine and bowed my head over them. “I have not lied to you. I am called Nassir. It does mean champion or supporter. But it is a description, not my given name. Among my own people, without a disguise, I am Imad Al Din.”

“Does that mean...I cannot...” The shock on Balian's face was heartbreaking, but somehow seemed misplaced. “Does that mean Saladin is your father?”

“That name is a gift and a title. It means 'the righteousness of the faith'. Mine says I am as close to a true image of faith that can be found. As though if true faith could be seen through a looking glass, I am a close resemblance. And I am close to my lord Saladin, I suppose you might say close as family. But no, we are not related by blood.”

“Which is why he would trust you so implicitly. I'm a little muddled. Why did he let you go?”

“No, I'M a little muddled...why would he not?”

“It's not seen as abandoning your people, joining with us...with me?”

“Balian!” I told him, I couldn't help laughing. “As long as my duty to you does not break my oath of loyalty to my people, there is no conflict of interest. It does not by the way. Our kingdoms are at peace and the three of us want it to stay that way. Following where I believe I am led to go is not something my lord Saladin would ever dissuade me from. He knows you valor and honor for himself. It is the very reflection of Godfrey's own persistence and character. Your father was a great man...”

“You knew him...?”

“Not well. But he was one of the few officers in the army of Jerusalem we could respect for more than just his skill with a weapon, or strategy. He held on to his own convictions and the ideals of peace without wavering or exception. I could not know for sure when we first came to Jerusalem, but now I have seen and experienced the compassion and tenderheartedness for myself...You are your father's son.”

“You lived here before?” Balian asked me bluntly. “You just admitted you were even a greater nobleman among your people than I thought of you.” He continued softly. “You must have met Baldwin himself earlier in your life. At least, that would explain your desire to stay out of everyone's way...And why you did not seem out of place earlier, but were not at all comfortable either.”

“I...I did not wish to be...declared I guess is the word. Apparently he remembered that of me.” I just realized where all this confusion is coming from.”

“Please explain.” Balian told me gently.

“I did not hide my condition to prove a point or anything of the sort. Even when I served Baldwin in his court I preferred to be seen as nothing but a Saracen in his service, and I had actually been his father's friend, so it was easy for them to honor my wishes. When I came before him today, I was not sure he would remember me, or see me for who I truly was. THAT is why I stayed at peace and hidden. I wanted to be seen and known as who I truly was, not what the world would make of me or what people would treat me as because of a title. I simply wanted to earn whatever treatment or consideration people gave me. I wanted it to belong to me. I hope you can understand.”

(later on)

“Why are you here?” I asked the man as courteously as I could.

“How do you mean?” He responded with what might have been concern.

“I am certain you don't mean any harm. But I cannot stop thinking you are...something or someone else, than what you pretend to be.”

“Well, you know I am a nobleman among my own people, and I am following where I feel I am being led to go. What else matters? I mean, why do I need to have any other purpose here?”

“Alright, let me be direct. Can I count on you to stand with us when the time comes, not just for Balian but for the sake of peace?”

“You may rest assured sir, most of my people want nothing but peace. From what I can see, the same can be said of yours. I always knew Guy DeLusigian would try to make war on my people. He wanted to meet in battle who he sees as the enemies of God, eager for his own glory therein. I am in part responsible for letting that happen. Regardless of what ELSE this means, I will do what I can to make sure that WAR as we know it does not come from his reckless hate.”

“I am sorry I ever doubted your intentions.”

“I hid who I really was.” He answered simply. “You needed to be sure I wasn't hiding anything else. Trust me, I understand. The only thing is...I need to be there...when MiLord Saladin (Sala-ho-deen) responds to this...to the aggression Guy has offered. That is why I stayed here after Kerak. I am...an in person witness to what I already believed. With such a witness and testimony, even the Mullah will be forced to accept that I speak the truth I've seen, not just my own belief based on my perspective.”

“Then we better get going. He approaches even now.” I told him with a faint smile.

Saladin stood in front of the young king of Jerusalem, his closest advisor just behind him. Sybilla, the queen mother of Jerusalem stood just behind her son. There were very few others in the great hall, just Balian of Ibelin, the Marshall Tiberias and 3 courtiers, to stand as witness for whatever might happen. A side door to the great hall opened and Imad walked in. He walked to stand aside from the others, as a mediator...then reconsidered and stood beside his friend.

“Salaam Ali-kum.” Baldwin the 5^th stated formally.

“Alai-i-kum Salaam.” Saladin replied. “I have come to address the actions of Guy DeLusigian, the captain of the armies of Jerusalem, to learn if he truly speaks for his people and to bring peace, if not justice between our peoples.” The sultan stated, as though to the entire room. He faced Imad directly. “Will you speak for them? Have you the authority?”

“I have the experience to know what they would say, and have seen the truth of it with my own eyes. I have their trust and faith on such things. I do not believe I should speak as their representative. You must hear their words from their lips, or it will mean nothing.”

“Very well.” he turned to address the court again. “I have no intention of returning Guy to you. I only wish to know if his actions were sanctioned, or was he truly a renegade. I only need to hear it from Tiberias or the king himself, I will not doubt their words.”

“Guy used his authority to make war on the Muslims.” Tiberias stated in his gravelly, coarse voice. His intentions were his own. We will do what we must to ensure his actions die with him. We will make no attempt to rescue him from your hand.”

Saladin looked up with surprise and a knowing smile. “He is a convenient answer then? It only makes sense that you are willing to give him up for the sake of peace?”

Tiberias looked confused. And stepped forward to address the misconception. “MiLord, if you did return him to us, we would execute him as a war criminal. While I am sure there are many in this kingdom who would agree with his ideals, no one in this court wants open war.”

“Can you confirm that?” Saladin asked of Imad, in Arabic. Who looked sideways to Balian, as if to ask permission to answer without reserve. A request which was granted with a slight nod of his head and a look of pride.

“I can affirm that this warmonger we speak of was very nearly removed from office before Baldwin the Fifth even came to the throne. Balian of Ibelin was to be chosen for this role.” He waved his hand to indicate the man of whom he spoke. “And Balian is a man of justice and honor as well as courage and honesty. He would speak for all of them if he could. That is, if his words were heard, his thoughts would be those of the entire kingdom. And if my life these last months has taught me anything, it is that we want nothing but understanding and communication between our peoples.” He blushed at his choice of words. “Balian and I, as well as the Marshall Tiberias and the King himself.”

“Who is Balian and why do you match yourself with him?” Saladin asked quickly.

“Balian of Ibelin, is the son of Godfrey and his heir. I do not put myself with the Marshall or even with the child-king. I put myself with Balian and would follow him to the ends of the Earth. The story of how I matched myself to him and how we met is best kept for another time. What should be known now is that I matched myself to him. It was a freely given choice and the beginning of greatness. He defends both his king and the peace we have established between our two great kingdoms. I hope this stands until either of our deaths.”

Tiberias understood enough Arabic to know the glowing terms Imad had used for Balian. King Baldwin, who was barely 13, understood only that Imad was an ally and an advocate for their kingdom, and someone King Saladin would listen to. Balian himself kept his expression as neutral as he could, while listening to what he was sure was Imad's defense of both himself and the sincerity of the king's intentions. He knew Imad's feelings about him and was certain at least some of what he had heard had been a description of their bond.

Story Points (various)

Since literally no one on this planet would stand up against the regime to rescue him, and half of the execution is in making a twisted game out of the spectacle, it takes the sixth Doctor and Peri a while to convince a man they saved from execution that they are not part of some sick game. And that they really are trying to help him.

Vernon: Why are you so interested in helping me?

(Meaning in part 'why would you risk your lives for me')

Peri: You're the first person we've met on this planet that hasn't tried to KILL us!

I'm sitting here thinking "...Good reason."

Inspired by my own Heavenly Journeys story and next on my list of stories to write out. This is the one story I'm writing that isn't Superhero or alien based.

Nasir is Nicholas servant during the time of the crusades. But something unexpected happened earlier that day and and Nasir with both decorum and determination comes to Nicholas room to talk about it.
Nasir: Why would you do that?
Nicholas: I'm used to people misjudging me. I've learned to chose my battles.
Nassir: No I mean, why would you call me your friend?
Nicolas: (caught off guard) Be-cause I consider you my friend. Seriously which of us is not understanding which of us right now?

Earth 21: Winn schott with his girlfriend Lena Luthor visits his friend Nikita on what turns out to be the 3rd anniversary of her surrogate father's death. She doesn't want a big gathering funeral, but a wake was described to her as 'a big party, designed to give the departed a jolly send off. Which didn't sound right to her either. They decide to have an Irish wake. Which Lena describes as away to memorialize the dead and celebrate life at the same time. 3 glasses of Irish Whiskey are raised in a toast and Nikita says in her native tongue, which sounds like Galic: A Chairde, a Theaghlaigh, a Dhia, cibé duine é sin. To Friends, to Family, to God, whoever that may be.

Nikita, an officer at the department of extra-normal operations detects a ship making a flyby and searches her own book-marked memories to identify the design.

-- Winn Schott is looking at her mesmerized. --
Nikita: We are about to have a flyby from some friendly visitors. Still not sure if they have any particular interest in us.
J'onn Jo'nzz: Who exactly are they?
Nikita: Phorians. (smiles distracted) I'm sorry the similarity between 'Phorian' and 'Euphorian' always makes me smile.
Winn Schott: And why is that exactly?
-He thinks she's referring to the emotion of euphoria and mentally connects 'phorian' to 'phosphoros'
Nikita: The Euphorians are cousins to my own race. Phorians are not.
Winn Schott: Good reason.

In case you don't know Nikita, the one narrating used to be a prisoner here under Hank Henshaw. And the first indication that Hank really had changed was when he assumed the better, not the worse of thier latest alien guest, Mon-el. Mon-el is not actually Kryptonian. He's from Daxam, a planet in the same system. 

“I figured we'd have to have this conversation eventually.” I said to Henshaw as he stood at the threshold of my compartment.

“I take it you know why I'm here?” He replied in a voice as full of restraint as of regret.

“To get to the truth of something that hasn't left your sight for a long time. Not 'clearing the air' as much as a 'just so we're clear' conversation. I'd actually like it if Mon-el were to stay. 

"For someone besides us to know why the assumption makes sense and why it isn't reality, might help us both. But he's not obliged. Mon-el, if you want to go, you should go.”

“I'm staying. If for no other reason than to learn where you two stand with each-other.”

“Why don't you hate me?” Henshaw stated point-blank.

“There are two and a half reasons why I should. One is that I made the decision a long time ago that I'd rather feel sorrow than anger and disappointment than regret. And this is back on Atridia. Every time I made a fist ready to punch something I would transform that anger into kind of a sad, quiet feeling. It got to the point people thought I was incapable of experiencing or even understanding the very normal emotions of anger or hatred. In an entire species of empaths, the inability to feel emotions made me seem 'damaged'. Really I just didn't see the point of holding a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone. I carried that conscious choice here. It's not an oath, it's a way of life and it is NOT easy. I've spent my life being not just a person fo peace but of restraint, self awareness and impeccable composure and forbearance. I don't see that changing. A bit ironic because 'change' is the other part of this.”

“What do you mean?” Mon El asked me simply.

“My people have a religious teaching that when put to its essence says that a righteous man who turns to rebellion and sin should not count on his former righteous deeds to save him from judgment. But likewise a sinner who turns from his rebellious ways and does what is right should have no fear; for by no means would his former sinful deeds be counted against him.” I turned and looked at Henshaw. “Unlike most people here, I know what you used to be like. But I also know who you are now, today. And that is who I'm dealing with so that is who matters. It sounds kind of new age and twisted but I don't sense anything in you that even resembles what I sensed from you before. And in case you don't remember, I didn't hate you back then either. Strangely enough that's actually the 'half' reason.”

“Okay...I'm probably going to regret this but what's the full reason?”

"...Hank if Jeremiah thinks you're worth DYING for I'm pretty sure you're worth forgiving!”

Martin and Martian

 This is the best version so far I have found for what, if it was real, would be one of thier favorite moments or memories. There is only minor differences in wording and pacing in all the copies I have of my Earth-9 or Earth 21 stories. and I have so many copies of the exact same stories I was swimming in them. I never got rid of any of them in case any were different or superior somehow. I just found one that actually says something in a sharper, that is more clear and distinct way. And just gives a different tone or attitude to a memory. Elana is a half human and one-have of an entity called FIRESTORM. Martin Stein is her nuclear mate.

 "But from what you've told me your father was human. Though he must have died." I said patiently. 

“That's where the word and thought of being a freak comes in.” Elana said coldly. “That I am half-human, not other than human.”

“Your ire seems self-directed.” Martin observed.

“It is. I can't get around it. It freaking sucks. It doesn't usually bother me this much but it still sucks.”

I looked at Martin and he glanced back at me. Neither of us understood her. The question was which of us would ask for clarification.

“Forgive me for being dense but why is being a 'half-breed' less than normal?” I asked eventually.

“There are only a small number of species my people are allowed to join with. My mother was considered a rebel and anarchist anyway but was disavowed for lack of another word because she came here to find a mate. Sounds separatist and elitist right? She thought so too. Her drive to challenge the preconceptions and assumptions of our culture made breaking this particular practice, breaking away from our culture to pursue love on equal grounds the most natural thing in the world for her. I was one year old when she learned the truth. It had nothing to do with racism. Our genetic make-up, Enkaren genetic make-up is such that there are only a handful of species we can procreate with and produce a healthy child...or a child at all. It's a matter of the organs being in the wrong places and serving different functions than they 'should'. Contradictory building blocks and 'instructional data'. Most of the time the offspring would die a horrible death by the age of five. Human DNA is relatively compatible to ours. Either that of far more resilient than most races in our 'neck of the woods'. " Elana ran her hand down her shoulder, placed her palm flat over her heart, stomach and then around her throat, as if pressing on her windpipe. she tapped her knee and her collarbone and her rib cage. "With me, everything works. Nothing works well as it should. Enkarens have no issue with humans and I have would have no problem being human. Being half-human hurts.”

“And yet if you were entirely Enkaren, we would have kept you in that cell.” I whispered.

“And your biological humanity allowed you to save my life...every day since we met.” Martin said regret and remorse filling his voice. “No wonder you didn't want to talk about this!”

"Jeremiah. Hank Henshaw is a much better man than you would have known. I can say that much with certainty." I looked at her, genuinely surprised.

"You've kept in contact all these years?"

"Well no, but Xavallens don't tend to lie without a damn good reason and I cannot think of a reason Nikita would have to back him up unless she actually agreed with him."

I am fairly certain my face went white.