Book by its Cover - Tara_A_Begginer (2024)

Chapter 1: Arrival

Chapter Text

Julian Bashir bounced on to Deep Space 9, a newly minted lieutenant in Star Fleet. His black and teal uniform still exhibiting its crispness, of a newly issued uniform. He smiled excitedly at everyone he passed. Taking in the alien architecture of the station, with its unfamiliar angles and curves. He turned in place, craning his head to take it all in. The underlining design of the station put Julian in mind of a scorpion, its tail held high, ready to strike at a moment’s provocation with its deadly poisonous sting.

Julian smiled a secret smile, he had always rather enjoyed Cardassian architecture. It said so much about the psychology of the species. Their guardedness, ready to strike at perceived enemies at a moment’s notice. The darkness of the station spoke of the Cardassian’s aversion to bright light. The station hinted of a militaristic and conformist society. This environment, Julian found, was truly fascinating. He wondered of the outliers, the subtle diversity within that conformity. No society was truly a monolith.

As Julian weaved through the diverse crowd, his hazel eyes widened in fascination at the assortment of alien species populating the station. His head swivelled from side to side, absorbing the myriad of sights and sounds that surrounded him. The unknown aliens drew his attention, prompting occasional goggle-eyed expressions as he marvelled at the diversity of life on Deep Space 9. This would truly be an adventure. He was confident in his skills as a doctor and he relished the challenge of such a diverse population to care for.

Spotting a lone figure on the mezzanine above, Julian's keen eyes noted the Cardassian man who seemed to exude an invisible force field, keeping others at a distance. Despite the isolation, Julian's excitement soared, and a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. This mysterious Cardassian promised an intriguing twist to his assignment. Julian wondered how there was a Cardassian aboard the once abandoned station.

Unfazed by the Cardassian's guarded demeanour, Julian flashed a jaunty wave and a brilliant smile. The Cardassian responded with a puzzled expression, quickly transitioning into a sardonic lift of an eye ridge, revealing a hint of curiosity beneath the stoic exterior.

The Cardassian, looks so lonely. Julian smiles a secret smile. It looks like this tour of duty will be even more interesting than he thought. He ponders how he might orchestrate a meeting and how he will play it.

Before Julian could ponder the enigma further, a commanding voice snapped him back to reality. “Lieutenant Bashir,” Julian jerked his head around and spotted a tall attractive Trill officer walking his way. Her long dark hair was gathered in a ponytail, swinging gently between her shoulder blades as she walked, held away from her face by silver clip. Her Trill markings standing starkly against her fair skin. Julian couldn’t help but smile appreciatively at her. His quick and intelligent eyes caught her exasperated sigh. He hid a smirk by turning his head as if his attention was caught by the extravagant sights of the promenade.

“I am Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax, Chief Science Officer on board Deep Space 9,” she crisply informed him. Julian, offering her his most charming smile, replied, “Pleased to meet you, Commander.”

He felt the Cardassian's watchful gaze lingering on him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed the enthusiastic young lieutenant. A subtle air of mystery clung to the Cardassian, adding an extra layer of intrigue to the unfolding drama on Deep Space 9. Julian, catching the Cardassian's gaze, couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. This assignment promised to be more captivating than he had ever imagined.

He returned his attention to the Trill science officer, who had now crossed her arms, looking impatient at the young officer before her.

She observed the newcomer, a tall and slender man with a coffee-coloured complexion, radiated an infectious puppyish exuberance. His eyes widened with excitement, betraying his inexperience with space travel. Jadzia sighed inwardly, sensing the potential for weariness in dealing with this enthusiastic new crew member.

“Commander Sisko wants to see you immediately in his ready room,” Jadzia informed him briskly, hoping to divert any untoward advances he might make. Julian seeming not to catch her subtle discouragement, smiled in an overly flirtatious manner. “I’ve never met a Trill before,” Julian said with a lascivious look, “Tell me, do your markings go all the way down?” he said with a broad open smile and a waggle of his eyebrows.

With a stern look, “Doctor Bashir, that question is completely inappropriate,” Jadzia reprimanded sharply. My gods was he asleep during Star Fleets classes on the appropriate behaviour for Star Fleet officers, she thought. “Aah, uhm, yes of course. My apologies Lieutenant,” Julian bumbled, flushing slightly.

“If you follow me, I will escort you to the commander,” Jadzia commanded. Julian trotted after her. “I am sorry for coming on so strong. You must know you are a beautiful woman, and I was too enthusiastic in my admiration,” Julian said hurrying after the Lieutenant Commander. Jadzia sighed, tiresome, frowning darkly.

“So maybe I can make it up too you with dinner,” said Julian eagerly with a hopeful smile. Jadzia looked at him in disbelief. She couldn’t believe him; she had just told him his actions were inappropriate. “Or, or coffee?” Julian babbled.

“Do not make me write you up for sexual harassment in the first thirty minutes of being on board the station,” she told the new Lieutenant harshly. “I, I, didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to be friendly,” he stuttered, his complexion paling. As Jadzia sternly commanded, 'In the future, if an officer tells you are being inappropriate, you stop and leave them alone at once.' Understandably chastised, Julian nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

Inside Julian was laughing. So far everything was going as he expected. He was the Chief medical officer on board. Of course, he had received all the Star Fleet officers medical records as soon as he accepted this posting, serving aboard DS9. He had read Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax’s file. He knew that she was slightly older than three hundred years old. From his own experience, when a long-lived species got to three or four hundred mark, then they suddenly thought they knew everything about the universe. Truly their arrogance was equal to a teenagers, well without the mood swings, he will admit.

Trill’s were slightly different in that they were symbionts, so they experienced different lives. From her file he knew Dax was an intelligent person. He needed to throw her off from the get-go. A love-struck fool was the best bet to distract her. He needed to keep the crew at arm’s length, so they only saw what he wanted them to see. A young, slightly obnoxious, medical officer. He held no ill intent towards the crew. He just wanted to be left in peace to do his work, help what ever patients needed it and maybe have a little fun along the way.

Someone of his nature tended to garner excitement wherever he went. Generating outrageous amounts of entitlement to his experiences from his companions. He intended to avoid it this time around. He went through extraordinary lengths to get here, to disguise his true nature. Only his closest family new his true identity. And on this quiet little space station in the middle of nowhere, he was determined to keep it that way.

Noticing the Trill's stiff back, Julian followed her, hoping he hadn’t gone overboard with his ruse. He didn’t want to totally alienate the woman, after all he still had to work with her for the next how many years. They reached the stations equivalent of a turbolift. He tried sending her a conciliatory smile. She just sighed again. Julian couldn’t help but send a genuine broad grin in her direction.

Jadzia entered in the code to bring them to the first stage of reaching the command center, and shook her head. Was she ever that young, she wondered. When she was just Jadzia, she was so focused on becoming a joined Trill she doesn’t think she had time to be so, so frivolous. He was still grinning at her enthusiastically, he was handsome, but too immature for her. “Look Dr Bashir, I am over three hundred years old. You would be better off sticking to someone your own age,” she told him, not without some compassion in her manner.

Julian brightened up considerably. “I can assure you commander that I am plenty mature enough,” he said making sure to stretch to his full height and puff out his chest. “I also came second in my class at Star Fleet academy too,” he pompously exclaimed, ensuring his voice was tinged with the right amount of umbrage, lifting his chin in defiance. Making sure to carefully watch Jadzia’s reaction from the refection of the commander in the polished trim of the turbolift.

She was back to looking annoyed again. Julian was delighted. This was going to be: Fun, Fun, Fun!

The turbolift doors opened into a dark corridor, with multiple doors and service hatches leading from it. Julian looked around him curiously. He had expected the turbolift to open on to the command center itself, like it would normally do on Federation space stations. Jadzia notice Julian looking around with puzzlement. “The Cardassian people are a paranoid bunch. None of the main turbolifts go directly to the command center. They all open up here on this access corridor, where there is an auxiliary security post, weapons locker, engineering workshop and various access conduits to the internal operations for the station. Only senior officers and engineering staff have access to these areas,” Jadzia calmly explained.

Walking down the dark corridor with Julian following her, she continued. “There’s a lift platform up ahead that opens on to the command center. I will program in your biometric code that will allow you to operate the lift,” she explained. The corridor was dark and eerie, even though there were multiple overhead lights. How did the Cardassian’s manage to create an atmosphere of such foreboding? Julian wondered to himself, looking all about him. This was a stark contrast to the bright and airy stations the Federation preferred. The materials in the corridor absorbed all the light keeping everything in shadow.

Highlighting again the Cardassian’s avoidance of bight light. Julian wondered if it would be possible to get a scan of a Cardassian’s eyes, he speculated on how their photoreceptors worked. The last time he met any Cardassian’s he wasn’t a doctor, and he wasn’t particularly interested in their biology. With a quick private grin to himself, well, not the biology of their eyes, he corrected himself, lost momentarily in vivid memory.

They reached the lift platform. “Here, calls the lift by pressing your palm on the panel. Just let me set it to scanning your palm,” Jadzia said as she quickly entered her password access and then set the panel to scan Julian’s hand. “Go ahead,” she nodded towards the panel. Julian quickly pressed his palm against the scanner, a brief light was emitted from the panel, recording his palm print. “Is that it?” he asked Jadzia. “No, it just needs to scan your face, for two factor verification,” Jadzia said with a small smile.

Julian stood awkwardly where Jadzia indicated. Face scans always made him feel awkward. As soon as he needs to look normal for the scan, he immediately forgets what normal looks like. The panel flashes and beeps, indicating that the biometric scan is complete.

“There is only one destination for the lift, so all you need to do is stand here, let it scan you, then press this icon,” Jadzia instructed, pointing out the dull amber icon on the screen. “This one here, brings you back down,” She indicated a greyed-out symbol. “What with only two icons, and with how busy the Chief is, it was decided we wouldn’t upgrade the panel to Bajoran or Standard, at this time.”

At Jadzia’s encouragement, Julian gave the lift the command to take them to the command center.

Chapter 2: Interview with Sisko

Chapter Text

The lift platform smoothly ascended, revealing the buzzing hub of Deep Space 9. A split-level layout sprawled out before Julian Bashir, a blend of officers wearing Star Fleet and Bajoran uniforms in various hues diligently attending to their diverse duties. The hum of activity surrounded him, and Julian couldn't help but be captivated by the bustling energy of his new environment.

Jadzia Dax, the Trill science officer, guided him off the platform. "This way, Lieutenant," she said, leading him toward a short flight of stairs. Ten sturdy steps ascended to a narrow mezzanine, where instrument panels beckoned for closer inspection. Julian spared them only a quick glance, knowing he would need to study them later to grasp their functions. Caught in the act of gawking, he flushed at Jadzia's amusem*nt, a genuine reaction for once.

As they approached, Jadzia pressed the call button, and the automatic doors whooshed open. A subtle breeze brushed against Julian's senses as he entered the room. "Commander Sisko, Dr. Bashir for you, Sir," Jadzia formally announced before ushering Julian inside. The doors closed behind him, leaving him face to face with the formidable Commander Benjamin Sisko.

Commander Sisko possessed a darkly handsome visage, characterised by strong features and a commanding air. Despite the severity of his frown as he scrutinised a pad, there was a depth in his eyes that betrayed a caring nature. The frown hinted at his discontent with the situation, the new arrival seemingly exacerbating his concerns.

Ben Sisko finally looked up, his gaze landing on Dr Bashir, the young man had a wistful air lingering about him, as if he could wish Jadzia remained.

Clearing his throat, he captured Julian's attention, making the young man acutely aware of the commander's dissatisfaction. Ben wasn't pleased with the Doctor’s assignment, a sentiment echoed by his admiral, who bluntly stated that there were no other qualified doctors willing to serve so far from Earth and Federation Headquarters.

"Please sit, Doctor," Ben commanded, indicating the seat opposite him. Returning his attention to Dr. Bashir's records, he perused the accolades — top of the class in most courses, graduated second in his year. A subtle squint examined the Lieutenant, who, in turn, squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. Ben delved deeper into the records, noting the absence of command, security, or basic self-defence courses—as dictated by Star Fleet regulations in this circ*mstance. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, though he maintained a composed exterior. The atmosphere in the room hung with a mix of scrutiny and unspoken tension, setting the stage for the unfolding interactions on Deep Space 9.

Commander Benjamin Sisko couldn't shake off the disbelief that resonated within him. An Augment on his station, and a remnant at that—the absolute worst combination imaginable. In his ready room stood a living, breathing, genetically engineered super soldier.

Ben eyed the young man warily, his appearance seemingly unimpressive at first glance. Average, he thought. Average good looks, perhaps a slightly too prominent forehead, with long-fingered hands and narrow wrists that betrayed no extraordinary strength. But therein lay the issue – he looked like an average human, indistinguishable from the rest. If it weren't for the accidental revelation by his stepfather, Richard Bashir, during the young man's teenage years, Star Fleet might have remained oblivious.

The Remnants were a mystery. Ever since Earth had stumbled upon their existence during the Eugenics war, there was no surefire way of detecting them. No scan or test could unveil their true nature. Any attempt resulted in findings of a perfectly average human being. The 2053 treaty, orchestrated by the Remnant Prime, prohibited experimentation on them and ensured their citizenship under the Earth government of their birth. In return, the Prime ended the Eugenics war, emphasising that the Remnants were not affiliated with Khan Noonien Singh's ambitions and cabal.

During the Eugenics war, the Remnants proved their loyalty to Earth, uniting to crush Khan's forces with ruthless efficiency. Despite their demonstration, humans, true to their nature, attempted betrayal. The Prime's forces swiftly quelled this treachery, forcing a peace treaty. The Prime, with a calm demeanour, explained that the Remnants had coexisted among humans for centuries without detection and preferred to return to that way of life.

However, the revelation had a cost. The world now knew about the Remnants. The Prime reluctantly disclosed the existence of a secret human society that had been monitoring and assisting the Remnants for centuries. This society recorded their histories and interactions, revealing that the Remnants had lived relatively peacefully throughout recorded history. The Prime, however, refused to grant government agencies access to these private history files.

Instead, the society permitted supervised access to bona fide historians, anthropologists, linguists, and archaeologists. Membership in the society offered even more extensive access, but joining was no easy feat. One needed a recommendation from a Remnant or to be born into the society. Some members hailed from families that had been part of the society for ten generations, guarding the secrets and interactions of the Remnants with utmost secrecy. The clandestine world of the Remnants, with its complex history and societal intricacies, now intersected with the duties and challenges of Deep Space 9, creating an unforeseen dynamic within the confines of the station.

Julian ensured that a harmless smile remained plastered on his face, concealing any micro expressions that might betray his true thoughts. His perceptive eyes, sharper than most, caught the slight tension in Commander Sisko's mouth and the subtle tightening of fingers on the pad. Beneath the facade of control, Julian discerned the commander's revulsion, unfortunately for Julian it was not unusual occurrence.

The commander, seemingly composed, glanced again at the pad, undoubtedly examining Julian's file. "It says here you were born in 2341, and your mother is Amsha Bashir?" Ben began, his sharp eyes keenly focused on Julian. "That’s correct, Commander," Julian affirmed. He found that sticking to the apparent truth was often the most effective strategy. Ben continued, "Father listed as 'unknown,'" leaving the unspoken question hanging in the air, hoping Julian would offer an explanation. "That's right, Sir," Julian promptly replied, maintaining a guileless expression.

"An unusual circ*mstance in this day and age, wouldn't you say, Doctor?" Ben inquired, not anticipating a direct answer. The parentage of the Remnants remained shrouded in mystery, and no one from Star Fleet had managed to extract concrete answers from the Prime or any other known Remnant. Despite Julian's youth, he understood that his people wouldn't permit him to join Star Fleet unless he could prove he could keep certain information confidential.

"I always think it’s best not to pry into my mother's sex life, Sir," Julian swiftly interjected, putting an abrupt stop to this line of questioning. Ben sighed in resignation, recognising the futility of probing further. It was a long shot, and the elusive nature of the Remnants' background remained intact. The air in the room carried an unspoken tension, hinting at the delicate balance between the station's crew and the unexpected presence of a genetically engineered super soldier.

"To be frank, Lieutenant, I am uncomfortable with having an augment on board my station," Ben stated firmly, fixing his gaze directly on Julian’s hazel eyes. Julian maintained his expression of harmlessness, adding a mix of resignation and disappointment. "I understand, Commander. It can be disconcerting to have a super soldier amongst you, who might strike out at a moment's notice," Julian expressed. Then, with unexpected swiftness, he shot out his arm in an imitation karate chop and let out a shout of "hi yaa!" managing to hit Commander Sisko’s prised baseball off his table. With comically wide eyes, Julian watched in dismay as the baseball sailed through the air in its case, landing on the floor with a crash.

Ben stared in disbelief at what the young lieutenant had just done. "Oh no!" Julian exclaimed, scrambling from his chair to dive after the baseball. "I didn’t mean to do that, Sir," he flustered, retrieving the ball and its now-damaged clear display box, which had several large cracks permanently etched around it.

Hunched in shame and embarrassment, Julian gently set the ball and case back on the desk. "I am truly sorry, Commander. I am sure it can be repaired easily in the replicator," Julian meekly suggested.

With gritted teeth, Ben looked at the cringing lieutenant. "Well, it doesn’t look like I need to worry about universal domination any time soon," Ben said angrily, picking up his treasured memento and checking it for damage. Luckily, it only appeared to be the case that was damaged. Carefully putting it out of reach of the clumsy lieutenant, he went back to glaring at Julian. "I was worried about your unfettered arrogance and ambitions when I was told you were coming aboard. It seems I should have been more worried about the furniture and fixtures," Ben said crossly.

"Yes, Commander," Julian said quietly, eyes cast down.

"Be warned, Doctor. I will be keeping a close eye on you, and I have instructed my senior staff to do the same. You have excellent reports from your tutors and supervisors from your hospital rotations. So just stick to your medical duties and don’t wander into station duties that don’t involve you, understand?" Ben instructed the doctor curtly.

"Yes, sir."

"You are dismissed."

Julian got up somewhat jerkily from his seat and made a hasty retreat from Sisko’s office. He exited the office without looking at any of his fellow officers and made for the lift platform. The tension lingered in the air, and the station's senior staff would indeed be keeping a close eye on the enigmatic Chief Medical Officer.

Recalling Jadzia’s earlier instructions, Julian called the lift to him with a determined press of the button. Stepping onto the platform, he directed the lift to take him to the corridor below, away from the prying eyes of the senior staff.

As the lift descended, Julian felt a surge of frustration and resentment welling up within him. 'Unfettered arrogance and ambitions,' he seethed in his mind, his footsteps echoing with an audible stamp as he made his way to the turbolifts. The unfair stereotype that all genetically modified beings were akin to maniacal figures like Khan rankled him. The historical oversights, conveniently forgetting that Khan and his cabal were created and raised by "normal" humans, fuelled Julian's anger. The fact that they were bred and trained to be homicidal murderers, by those same ‘normal’ humans, was conveniently ignored, and the injustice of it all made him want to scream.

That Earth through its domination of the Federation had tried to infect all associated member worlds with their biases against any genetically modifications, really stuck in his craw. Yet the powerful members like the Klingons and the Vulcans were basically able to tell them to ‘shove it where the sun don’t shine’, spoke volumes to their hypocrisy.

They never mention what the Klingons were doing to themselves, to improve the species. You only had to observe them over the last two hundred years to see how drastically they had changed. That was no natural selection in progress.

And don’t even talk to him about the Vulcans. I don’t know where the humans thought Ambassador Spock came from, but it sure as hell wasn’t a stork or any sort of sex between Amanda Gracen and Sarek. He had read the papers. He knew it took a sh*t ton of genetic manipulation to produce Spock. Yet again, not a peep about genetic modification out of Earth or the Federation.

But any poor boondock planet that wanted to join the Federation had to sign a bloody treaty banning any genetic modification, no matter the cultural significance to the planet.

Prime directive my arse, Julian fumed.

Ahh! It was enough to make him grind his teeth to a stub.

Then his thoughts turned to his own family.

Cursing Richard Bashir and his indiscreet revelations, Julian lamented how a quiet, normal life could have been his if his stepfather had kept his mouth shut. His mother, Amsha, was a loving and intelligent woman, a generational member of the secret society that had watched the remnants for centuries. She seemed the ideal candidate to be a surrogate mother, except for one unseen flaw – her terrible choice in husbands.

Richard had been fine when Julian was a child, perhaps a bit too involved, but nothing alarming. The protocol dictated that new remnants shouldn't be informed too early about their true nature. However, as Julian grew older, Richard's obsession with the concept of augment remnants intensified. He would never be admitted to that secret society due to his unsuitable temperament, skills, and education. This strained Amsha and Julian's relationship. For Richard could only gain entry to this secret organisation through an invitation from a remnant, like Julian.

Being so close to this incredible secret, raising an 'augment remnant' child, when the general public didn’t even know how they procreated, proved too much for Richard to resist. He began dropping unsubtle hints to anyone who would listen, claiming to possess more knowledge than he actually had. Amsha couldn't control his destructive behaviour. And by the time Julian reached 17 years of age, it became general knowledge that he was an augment and a remnant at that, even before he had fully awakened.

His mother pleaded for his forgiveness, and Julian, of course, forgave her. She was his mother, the woman who enabled his birth, and he loved her as both a son and a dear friend. However, Richard, his idiotic stepfather, was another matter entirely. Julian could barely tolerate the man and was endlessly grateful that he wasn’t genetically related to him.

At least he had managed to maintain his façade in front of the commander. It seemed that Julian was on the way of persuading him that he wasn’t a dangerous super soldier. Not after his stunt with the baseball and all the cowering he performed.

The remnants had many secrets to keep, uugh! What a stupid name they had been stuck with. It wasn’t the name they called themselves. But the Prime had commanded them not to reveal the name to any mortal. As much as ‘augment’ and ‘remnant’ upset them, their true name would really trouble them. Julian sighed to himself, he fully understood the necessity of secrecy and he was fully committed to maintaining it. Though certain aspects of his people were all ready known, like his ability to heal himself and their long life span. But Julian should be protected from the worst of their curiosity with only being born 27 years ago.

As Julian took in deep breaths, trying to regain his composure, he realised he had wandered halfway around the ring during his fit of anger. Frustration gnawed at him—distractions like these were unacceptable. He needed to stay focused, especially with the commander's disapproval hanging over him.

Standing in the curving corridor, Julian weighed his options: continue forward or turn back. The unfamiliar surroundings made it a tough decision. Which ever way he turned the corridor looked the same. The same dark colour pallet, extended in both directions, but now he was alone and had a chance to really look he noticed very subtle shifts in colour. Very dark red and blue accented the design, he found it quiet soothing.

Just then, an older man in the black and yellow uniform of engineering appeared, jogging around the bend. Blond curls bounced as he approached, his flushed face betraying exertion. "Doctor!" he called out with a note of suspicion. "Where are you going?"

Julian studied the man's rank pips. "No idea, Chief," he admitted. "I seem to have walked by the turbolift after my conversation with the Commander. I will admit, I was somewhat distracted. Now I was just trying to figure out if it's quicker to continue or turn back."

Miles O'Brien, the chief engineer, relaxed a bit, having caught his breath. "I understand, Doctor. I have been on the other side of the desk during a 'talking to.' Disconcerting, isn't it?" The suspicion in Miles's eyes softened with understanding.

Besides he had a good idea what the commander had wanted to speak to the doctor about. The commander had informed all the senior staff three days before that an augment had been assigned to the station.

Miles didn’t really know what to think. He had never met a real-life augment before. He had the underlining prejudice that a lot of people seemed to have, that augments had an unfair advantage over normal humans. But he was a professional Star Fleet man, he could behave civilly to the man, he would just keep an eye out, to make sure he wasn’t using his abilities to get an unfair advantage over others.

Smiling at the other man, “I wonder how you found me down here chief?” Julian asked. The red hue returned to the other man’s cheeks, “oh, I just happened to see you on the security cameras in this corridor.”

Hmmm, Julian thought, he must be one of the senior officers Sisko mentioned in his office. Looking up to the ceiling, “I don’t see any cameras?” he gently queried. “Yeah! The Cardassian’s are right sneaky bastards. You wouldn’t believe what they managed to hide around the station. The cameras are part of the light fixtures,” Miles explained with a rueful shake of the head.

“Are they in our personal quarters too?” Asked Julian with a sudden frown of worry. “Oh no, the Commander ordered them to be deactivated as soon as we took control of the station,” Miles explained, reassuring Julian. “There’re cameras all over the station, all the public access areas and corridors, security zones. I think there might be cameras in the infirmary too,” Miles told Julian thoughtfully.

Julian understood it was a necessity for security cameras to be in place in public zones, but they were not acceptable in a medical setting. “Chief I can’t have cameras in the infirmary,” Julian said firmly. “It’s a matter of patient confidentiality.”

Miles looked worried about this, “tell me chief would you be willing to strip naked for a medical examination if you knew there were camera’s recording you?” Julian asked bluntly. Miles flushed hotly, he hadn’t even thought of that, what if it was his wife? No, he definitely wouldn’t like that. “I will talk to the commander and get them deactivated.”

“Thank you Chief,” Julian said with an expectant look and a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, I am Miles O’Brien, chief engineer on board, sir,” he said when he realised, he hadn’t introduced himself. Remembering what the doctor had told him moments before, about being lost, he said "It's quicker if we continue forward. There's a second bank of turbolifts for engineering facilities on that side of the ring. If you're heading to the command center, use the starboard turbolifts near Quark's on the promenade, it’s generally quicker."

Curiosity piqued, Julian asked about the turbolifts' destinations. Miles cheerfully detailed the port side commissary, short-term storage, and a pod-hostelry with sleeping pods. "Useful in emergencies," Julian remarked.

Looking around carefully, Julian took in all the details of their surroundings. He noticed now that all the accents were red. He wondered if it was a colour code that the Cardassian’s could easily discern. Hmm! I wonder if the humans can see the colour changes too, maybe he will ask someone at a later date. He didn’t often contemplate the differences in his senses and what he might experience that others didn’t.

Reaching the turbolift, Miles pressed the call button. "Just say 'promenade,' and it'll take you to the correct deck," he advised with a half-smile.

“Will I reach the lift platform if I continue that way?” he asked Miles, pointing in the opposite direction they had just walked.

“Yes,” Miles answered, “actually Doctor if you come up by these turbolifts it’s quicker that way too.” Julian committed this information to memory.

Julian thanked Miles for his assistance. Miles smiled tentatively back at the doctor, he seemed normal enough to Miles. He might even admit to his wife that he was a little disappointed at the doctor’s ordinariness. He didn’t know what exactly he expected in an augment. But it wasn’t an overly friendly doctor filled with curiosity.

As the doors opened, Julian turned to Miles with a parting comment, "You should visit the infirmary for a medical soon. I noticed you were breathing pretty hard when you caught up with me. I might need to devise an exercise schedule for you." He said with a bright grin. With a jaunty wave, Julian entered the turbolift, leaving behind a shocked and then enraged Chief Engineer. Alone in the lift, Julian couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected turn of events.

He seemed to have met one relatively friendly person on the station.

Chapter 3: Garak

Chapter Text

Garak, stood concealed behind the racks of clothing in his clothes shop, observed with a mix of disdain and curiosity as the station's new chief medical officer bumbled past his shop front. The human-looking man exuded an air of cheerfulness, nodding, smiling, and waving to anyone who crossed his path. It was almost comical, reminiscent of those disgusting creatures Garak had read about: terrible, slobbering things. Ah, yes, puppies. The doctor resembled an overgrown puppy, unleashed and exploring the station with unbridled enthusiasm.

Never one to pass up an opportunity for valuable information, Garak discreetly inquired around the station about the intriguing doctor. The most enticing titbit came from none other than Quark, the gossipy Ferengi bartender. Quark, eager to share his knowledge, leaned in and whispered to Garak with a conspiratorial tone, revealing that the good doctor was not just an ordinary augment but, in fact, a Remnant.

Garak expertly concealed the spark of intrigue in his eyes, his nonchalant demeanour contrasting sharply with the keen interest he felt, a masterful act to pique Quark's curiosity even more. The Ferengi, unable to resist the lure of a juicy secret, spilled the details. The lieutenant was indeed a Remnant—a piece of news that truly intrigued Garak. His keen mind immediately recognised the potential significance of this revelation, though he carefully concealed his true feelings.

As a seasoned operative of the Obsidian Order, Garak saw an opportunity in this information. It occurred to him that this Remnant might be the key to ending his exile. The Cardassian’s had quickly discerned the humans' biases against genetic modification, labelling such individuals as augments. While the Cardassian High Command hadn't paid much attention to these human prejudices, the whispers of 'Augment Remnants' during the twenty-year conflict between the Federation and Cardassia had caught their ears.

Every defeat suffered by Cardassian military forces had been conveniently attributed to these elusive Remnants. Even Tain, the head of the Obsidian Order, had tried various methods to gather intelligence on these mysterious beings, but all attempts had ended in failure. Agents either returned empty-handed or didn't return at all, leaving the Remnants shrouded in mystery. Now, with the knowledge that one such Remnant walked the halls of Deep Space Nine, Garak couldn't help but see the potential for a game-changing move.

A wry smile played on Garak's lips, the thrill of unravelling mysteries a delightful game for the clandestine operative. His mind eagerly anticipated the moves yet to be made. An intrigue that might brighten the monotonous days he found himself trapped in.

Garak, ever the clandestine operative, had dedicated some time to his speciality—hacking into Star Fleet records. Garak's fingers danced over the controls, his mind calculating each move as he wove through the intricate layers of Star Fleet security. The thrill of the challenge sent a shiver down his spine. He adeptly navigated through the digital labyrinth until he found the file on the station's new chief medical officer, Doctor Julian Bashir. As the information unfolded before him, Garak couldn't help but revel in the thrill of the challenge.

The file revealed that Julian's mother was Amsha Bashir, and his father remained unknown. Garak couldn't help but ponder the mysterious figure in Julian's lineage, wondering if the elusive father was another Remnant. The potential connections and implications intrigued him. Surely there could be no other explanation, Garak wondered, this mysterious male parent must also be a Remnant. The elusive nature of these Remnants proved to be an ongoing frustration for Garak, as well as Cardassian Central Command, but he relished the challenge they presented.

A wry smile played on Garak's lips; he enjoyed delving into the unknown, especially when it involved unravelling the secrets of enigmatic individuals.

As Garak continued his perusal of the file, he discovered that Doctor Bashir was a mere 27 years old and had been exposed as a Remnant by his stepfather, Richard Bashir. This information triggered a spark of interest in Garak. Weaknesses were opportunities, and the revelation by a family member could potentially be exploited.

The file further detailed Julian's exemplary academic record—consistently ranking first or second in all his Star Fleet classes. However, Garak was momentarily taken aback when he discovered a peculiar prohibition. With an arched brow, he mused over Star Fleet's curious decision. Were they blinded by their own biases, or did they have a more subtle strategy in mind? The puzzle fascinated him, why exactly had Star Fleet barred the young doctor from enrolling in any strategic classes, not even basic self-defence. It seemed pointless to him.

Garak was baffled by Star Fleet's shortsightedness. Did they truly believe withholding military strategy education would prevent a Remnant from seeking training elsewhere? His contemplative expression deepened as he considered the potential consequences of underestimating the capabilities of such genetically enhanced individuals.

The Federation jealously guarded its knowledge on Remnants from outsiders. But from the little Garak knows about Earth history, the Remnants were already organised enough to band together and defeat Khan’s forces in 2052. That was three hundred years ago. In Garak’s estimation, the Remnants would only have become more organised, not less. Especially with the Federations blatant prejudice against them.

Garak suspected if the Remnants wanted Julian Bashir trained, then he would be trained

Leaning back in his dimly lit room, Garak let the sparse light cast shadows across his contemplative expression. The revelation puzzled him. Were the prejudices of Star Fleet so blinding that they neglected to equip this young Remnant with the skills to defend himself? Did they fail to recognise the valuable asset that Doctor Bashir represented?

Garak, who was well-versed in the strategic games of various factions, knew personally that even the Romulans harboured a keen interest in Remnants, with their own clandestine plots in place to acquire one. A self-satisfied smirk played on Garak's lips as he ruminated on the intricate web of secrets he continued to unravel.

From his vantage point, Garak found himself in an opportune position. The young Remnant, Doctor Julian Bashir, appeared to be an ideal subject—devoid of self-defence training, eyed warily by his Star Fleet colleagues, and seemingly isolated. His wide, earnest smiles and eager nods were reminiscent of a puppy's enthusiastic greeting, as if every encounter was an exciting new adventure, an aspect of his character that could work in Garak’s favour.

Garak had been discreetly observing the doctor since he arrived on station. As the doctor roamed the promenade, seeking companionship with an almost desperate enthusiasm. He engaged in conversations with anyone willing to reciprocate, and his flirtatious demeanour spared no one with a pulse.

Garak had made sure to capture the young doctor’s attention around the station. He smiled to himself as he remembered the young man side longs looks and the blushes that suffused his face at being caught looking. Garak felt the barest tingle in his eye ridges when he notice the doctors dule look of intrigue and alarm.

Garak, standing at his window, kept a keen eye on the unfolding interactions. The doctor's soft, brown features were a stark contrast to the elegance and power associated with Cardassian males. The unruly curls of his hair piqued Garak's interest, a rare sight among Cardassian’s who never possessed natural curls without meticulous styling. The human's expressions were open and unguarded, revealing a vulnerability that intrigued the Cardassian operative.

A calculating look settled on Garak's features as he observed Julian engaged in conversation with a shopkeeper farther down the mezzanine. A subtle uncertainty in Julian's gaze as he conversed with others, a vulnerability that promised potential avenues for manipulation. The contrast between the two species, their differences in demeanour and appearance, fuelled Garak's curiosity. In his experienced eyes, he detected a potential vulnerability—a weakness that could be exploited.

Seduction was another specialty of Garak's, and the good doctor seemed ripe for such manipulation. The prospect of a delicate dance of intrigue and seduction loomed enticingly in Garak's mind. The prospect of weaving his web of intrigue around Julian Bashir, ensnaring him in a delicate dance of secrets and hidden agendas, was an opportunity Garak found impossible to resist.

Lunch

As Garak observed the young lieutenant, he marvelled at the seemingly ordinary demeanour of this supposed super soldier. Timing his exit from the tailor shop to coincide with Julian's lunch break, Garak executed his plan with precision. Flipping the sign from 'open' to 'gone to lunch,' he strolled out casually, engaging in small talk with various acquaintances to maintain an appearance of nonchalance.

Arriving at the Replimat, Garak ordered his preferred fruit juice and a simple mid-day meal. Garak observed the lieutenant, immersed in his pad, sat at a table, unaware of the tailor's approach. Garak couldn't help but marvel at the irony of the situation – the Federation's feared super soldier engrossed in his lunch, seemingly defenceless.

Observing the young officer, Garak questioned the validity of Starfleet's concerns. Was this unassuming figure truly the cause of such apprehension? In a dramatic gesture, Garak theatrically coughed, startling the doctor out of his concentration. The lieutenant, with a jump, looked up, meeting Garak's enigmatic smile with a mixture of surprise and alarm.

"Ahh, Doctor Bashir, I presume. May I join you?" Garak smoothly invited, claiming a seat before the young doctor could react. Garak continued, adopting an amiable tone designed to disarm the human. "I'm Garak, Cardassian by birth, as you can see and the sole representative on this station," he revealed, noting the alarm in Julian's eyes. “It’s why I am always pleased to make new friends,” Garak says with feigned innocence.

"Yes, I know," Julian stammered, his face taking on a delightful pink hue as he realised, he had just revealed that he had been gossiping about the Cardassian. Garak couldn't help but revel in the success of his calculated intrusion. The doctor's reactions were unfolding precisely as Garak had envisioned, adding a satisfying layer of control to the situation.

With a smug smile, Garak seized the opportunity to further unsettle the young doctor. "Ah, I see my fame as a tailor has preceded me," he remarked, relishing the easy manipulation. "Oh, er, yes, you're a tailor," Julian mumbled, clearly flustered by Garak's unexpected attention. The stage was set for the intricate dance between the charming Cardassian and the unsuspecting doctor.

The doctor was obviously unsettled by Garak’s sudden appearance at his lunch table, his jerky motions and stilted smiles gave him away. “Ah, er, I have heard some people say that you only remained on the station to be the eyes and ears of the Cardassian government,” Julian stuttering and blushing managed to say.

“You don’t say,” Garak said with wide eyed delight. And it was a delight looking at the young doctor’s facial contortions. “Doctor, you are not intimating that I am some sort of spy, are you?” he queries innocently.

“No, no, I wouldn’t know sir,” Julian anxiously replies. “Ah! I can see you have an open mind, the essence of intellect,” Garak flatters. A subtle twitch in Julian's brow, a hesitant smile; Garak absorbed every nuance of the doctor's physical reactions. It was a dance, and Garak was orchestrating the steps with precision, leading Julian through a performance of vulnerability.

Deciding it was time to make his move. Garak leans forward conspiratorially, his sharp eyes scanning the Replimat as if he's about to divulge a classified secret. The ambient hum of conversations creates a perfect cover for their discussion. Lowering his voice to a near-whisper, he remarks, "I have heard that you are an Augment," punctuating the revelation with a dramatic look around the bustling establishment. Then, with another theatrical glance over his shoulder, he continues in an even quieter voice, forcing Julian to lean forward to catch every word. "In fact, an actual Remnant?"

As Garak studies the doctor's face, expecting a certain level of denial or evasion, he is taken aback by the resigned expression that meets his gaze. The doctor surprises him even further by not only confirming the information but doing so in a manner that doesn't align with the expected caution or discretion. Julian, instead of maintaining secrecy, sighs audibly, leans back in his chair, and candidly admits, "Oh yes, it's true. I am a Remnant."

Garak shoots a subtle glance around the Replimat, realising that the doctor's loud acknowledgment has caught the attention of several patrons. It's not the ideal scenario Garak had envisioned for such a delicate revelation. Sensing the need to regain control, he subtly shifts his focus back to his lunch, taking calculated sips of his juice, while contemplating how to navigate this unexpected turn.

Undeterred by the audience now keenly following their exchange, Julian leans forward once again, resting his arms on the table before him. With a guileless expression, his warm hazel eyes convey a deceptive honesty. "I should warn you, Mr. Garak," Julian says, his voice carrying a quiver of some deep emotion, "that I am the most dangerous and cunning foe you will ever meet. It's true, you see, I am a genetically engineered super soldier, and I definitely shouldn't be trusted." Breaking eye contact, Julian lets his gaze wander over the busy promenade, as if grappling with the weight of his own revelation.

Somewhat alarmed by this unexpected emotional turn, Garak hadn't prepared for an overemotional human, and the lack of an exit strategy for such a situation leaves him momentarily unsettled. While internally recalibrating, Garak externally remained the picture of composure. Sips of his juice and calculated bites of his meal served as a deliberate cover, allowing him time to gather his thoughts and maintain an air of indifference.

Choosing to buy time and gather his thoughts, Garak resumes eating his lunch, taking occasional sips of his juice, all the while maintaining a composed facade.

Finally regaining his composure, the doctor rose from his seat, prompting Garak to do the same. Garak, ever the master of poise, laid a friendly hand on the doctor's shoulder. Julian's immediate reaction was a mix of startlement, alarm, and undeniable intrigue as he looked at Garak, now in close proximity. "Well, I am not afraid, good doctor. I am sure in the very near future we will be the closest of friends," Garak said with a final flirtatious smile.

“As you may know I have a clothing shop close by. Please do come in if you need any new apparel. Or if like me, you desire some agreeable company, I am at your disposal,” Garak ensures to hold the doctors eye contact a little too long, a little too intense. “Yes, thank you Mr Garak, you are very kind,” The doctor quickly says.

“I am so pleased to have met you Doctor, so glad to have made a new friend,” to punctuate his words, he added a not-so-subtle caress of the doctor's shoulder. Garak was delighted when he felt a shiver travel through the doctor’s body.

Stepping closer to the doctor, Garak leans in and gently whispers seductively “It’s just plain simple Garak, Doctor. Good day.”

Leaving the hotly blushing doctor behind, Garak strolled away, leaving him to nervously gather the debris from their unexpected lunch date. As a parting gift, Garak revelled in the satisfaction of a job well done when the doctor, now flustered, dropped a fork from his nerveless fingers. The sudden clatter drew the attention of other patrons, and the doctor stumbled through an apology.

While Garak left the scene, he couldn't linger in the afterglow of his small triumph. Unlike a government-employed operative, he had to hustle back to his shop and reopen it promptly. The thought of the necessity of earning money left a bitter taste in his mouth as he flipped the sign back to "open."

Seated comfortably behind his counter, Garak reflected on the encounter with the doctor. "A good start," he thought to himself. As he recalled the doctor's words about being "the most dangerous and cunning foe," Garak couldn't help but release a soft chuckle. If only the doctor knew what true cunning and danger meant. Enabran Tain, his own father, held that title in Garak's eyes. He mused on the irony of the situation.

Just as he settled into his thoughts, the shop door chimed open, announcing the arrival of a regular customer—one who was meticulous about paying bills on time and thus couldn’t be ignored.

The immediate reminder of his financial needs prompted Garak to plaster on his fake customer service smile as he went to attend to the familiar face. The intrigue of a potential friendship with the doctor lingered in the back of his mind as he engaged in the mundane transaction.

Chapter 4: Julian

Chapter Text

Julian's POV

From the first glimpse of the compelling Cardassian watching him, on the day Julian arrived on Deep Space 9, he had been fascinated. For Julian the Cardassian’s were easy to understand. They showed the Galaxy exactly who they were and yet the other species always seemed to be surprised when they acted on their instincts. Which were usually signposted in neon before they took any action.

To really understand the people all you had to do was read the ‘Never Ending Sacrifice’, it told you all you ever need to know. Julian had once sat through a 21 hour live reading of the novel in Gul Trelax’s private Salon. Julian had been the arm candy of an up-and-coming Obsidian Order agent calling himself at the time ‘Jorik Varn’, undercover as the cultural attaché to Gul Trelax. He was trying to get Julian to spill scientific secrets from the Science Institute Julian had been working for at the time QuantumTech Innovations Institute or QTII for short.

Oh, what fun he had, playing with Agent Varn. Julian the world-weary scientist and the agent playing at being an ingenue.

Julian had never been quite sure if Agent Varn’s mission was to steal research from QTII or if Julian had been identified as moderately difficult mark for the young agent to practice on. He was about 26, Julian recalled. Ridiculously young for an Obsidian Order field agent to be sent on a foreign post. Julian supposed the latter, an apparently harmless subject for the agent to ‘wet his feet on’. Of course, this was before the boarder war with the Federation, so the young agents’ handlers didn’t recognise the opportunity before them.

He followed that agents career as best he could, being based in the federation as he was. He always had a little chuckle imagining what the agent would say if he ever found out he had a Remnant within his arms. Especially how hard he tried to get his hands on one of Julian’s people, later in his career.

Varn had taken him to the reading to impress the cynical Julian (though that wasn’t the name he was using at the time either), who was pretending to be a cultural snob. Julian suspected that Agent Varn had taken him there hoping that he would be bord to death and Agent Varn could steal Julian’s access codes to QTII. But sitting in that Salon, listening to the novel, and watching Agent Varn ply his craft, had been a masterclass in the Cardassian people’s psyche.

The reading, for all its intended purposes, had been a window into the soul of Cardassian culture. The subtlety and nuance in every aspect of the novel, the meticulous repetition of story arcs intertwined with minute changes to reflect Cardassia's evolution, and the unwavering dedication to their family, home, and government—all these elements fascinated Julian and reflected how Cardassian’s operated in the wider world.

No doubt many humans would find the story uninteresting and indecipherable. But Julian keenly observed the other Cardassian’s in the room, how they took such meaning and satisfaction from the work. Yes, that secret Agent Varn had done Julian an immense favour that night. Giving Julian a look into the heart of the Cardassian people.

‘The Never Ending Sacrifice’ had struck a chord with Julian in a profound way. The Repetitive Epic served as a microcosm reflecting Julian's perception of time. Throughout history, empires rose and fell, religions and fashions cycled endlessly, and yet, the essence of humanity remained constant. It was a perpetual repetition that Julian took comfort in. The majority of people, across different civilizations and species, yearned for the same fundamental desires – to find love, build a family, and embrace the comforting continuity of days resembling each other.

Julian found himself astonished and humbled during his initial travels beyond his home planet. Encounter after encounter with beings from distant stars revealed a surprising truth – the commonality that transcended diverse worlds. It appeared to be a universal constant, reminding Julian of the shared aspirations and pursuits that bound sentient beings together across the vast expanse of the cosmos.

This is what Agent Varn had shown him that night.

Of course, he paid Agent Varn back in kind. He wondered if he took away as much knowledge of the human race, as Julian did of the Cardassian’s. Julian with his perfect recall often liked to remember the supressed look of horror on young Varn’s face when Julian introduced him to 21^st century Hallmark movies. In his darkest hours, Julian will often recall the 15-hour Christmas Movie marathon, he subjected Agent Varn too, and cry with laughter at the memory. From that experience Julian had learned what a Cardassian looks like when enduring the nine circles of hell.

Julian always felt that he offered that young Cardassian the most valuable education an alien operative could possibly have. For teaching him patience and forbearing alone, must have stood him good stead in his career. He did eventually take pity on him and carelessly left some work on cloaking devices, behind a moderately difficult firewall on his personal computer.

The information was completely useless of course. One of the post graduate students working on the project, just would not read the operation manual on the Quantum Interference Generator and this naturally resulted in the subsequent data produced for the project being worthless.

Oh well, disappointment was also a valuable lesson to learn.

This encounter started Julian’s fascination with Cardassian’s and why he was so intrigued by Garak.

Whose name he found by literally propping up Quark’s bar and gossiping enthusiastically with the bar keep. Ferengi will tell you anything you wanted to know if you will spend copious amounts on over priced fruity drinks. With Julian’s physiology it was near impossible for him to get drunk or stay drunk if he did manage the feat.

Julian could have probably gotten the information from the station security files, but why risk being caught when getting the desired information, the old-fashioned way was so much more enjoyable. Besides he learnt so much about the inhabitants that night. Chief O’Brien’s love for historical holo-programs and Morn’s encyclopaedic knowledge of dirty jokes.

So the mysterious Garak, was a tailor and reported by Quark as being a spy. Julian thought he was probably a senior agent for the Obsidian Order. But he wouldn’t know for sure until he met him in person. The glimpse of him that Julian had gotten hinted at familiarity, there was something in his stance and the set of his shoulder that tickled his memory.

It was difficult to gauge how old the man was. When Cardassian’s reached middle age, a range between 40 to 90 years old, they seemed to barely age at all. If they didn’t succumb to a violent end in their prime, they could live to 162 years on average.

If Julian could get a genetic sample he could find out a lot about him. Getting the sample would be the difficulty. Unlike humans, Cardassian’s didn’t shed their equivalent of DNA. He would need a tissue sample for that. But bodily fluids were unique to each Cardassian, another valuable detail he discovered from that long ago Obsidian Agent Varn. That would probably be easier to get and would be enough to start identifying the man.

Julian decided that the easiest way to get his sample was from saliva. He just had to get Garak to come and have a drink with him. His cover as an harmless augment was progressing well. So he didn’t think Garak was wise to him yet.

Julian had made sure to confide in Quark, in his apparent inebriated state that he was a Remnant. A dangerous super soldier ‘grrr!’ and then fell about laughing. Quark took the bait and happily shared this latest piece of gossip to all and sundry, including Garak.

Julian had been across Quark’s bending Chief O’Brien’s ear about the benefits of racket ball. He did have an almost clear view of Garak when Quark was telling him all about Julian. Julian’s hearing was exceptional, but not good enough to hear across a crowded bar. But he did see Quark say his name. He also saw Garak’s masterful display of disinterest in the news. But there was a particular stillness of anticipation held in his body, followed by the subtle release of tension when he was given the information he was fishing for.

It was these subtle indicators that hinted at the Cardassian being an agent or ex-agent and not part of the military, as Quark speculated.

What the federation failed to understand about Remnants was that their quasi leader, the Prime, hadn’t forbidden them not to share information with anyone. Just that they couldn’t share any information with the Federation that they didn’t already possess. So the fact they were genetically engineered super soldiers, they could tell who they liked. But how they procreated, for example, was still a mystery, so they keep mum.

There actual only command was don’t scare the mortals. That was one headache nobody wanted. Julian had personally seen the affect of fear could have on a group of humans and it wasn’t pretty. The history books were full of terrible pogroms and genocide of any group seen as ‘other’. It was true that the Remnants could survive nearly any injury, including injuries that would be fatal to humans, due to their quantum life-force. But there were some deaths they couldn’t come back from, like a beheading. It was in all Remnants interest that Humans and the greater Galaxy didn’t come to fear them.

Hence, some of the Remnants tended to going around shouting ‘look at me’ I am a scary super soldier ‘Grrr! Grrr! Hsss!” looking about as dangerous as a tribble. The Federation citizens meeting these Remnants start to thinking why are we scared of these beings, there harmless? Thus allowing the majority of the Remnants a quiet peaceful life, getting on with living and having families. Focusing on their various passion projects from Ironwork to Sub-Space mechanics.

That was meant to be Julian’s path this time round, be born, go to medical school and help people, all nice and anonymous until Richard Bashir opened his big mouth. Julian still felt angry with his stepfather about this betrayal. So instead of life of medical research, Julian decided to lean into the ‘Look at Me. I’m harmless!’ trope. It didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun on the way.

All Remnants were born with a love of just living. An exuberance for meeting new people and the acquisition of knowledge for knowledge’s sake. Left to their own devices they weren’t particularly power hungry either. Sure, it sounds fun to be worshipped as a God. It starts off as feasts and orgies and the next thing you know, you’re hip deep in scheming high priests planning to bury you alive in secret tombs. Most Remnants learn this at a relatively young age, you only have to live through a few senseless bloody wars to lose the taste for blood or violence.

Julian was thankful to the Progenitors for creating them with this endless love of life. To be able to bare the passing of time, through understanding the cyclical nature of time. To appreciate and love the mortals around him. To grieve when they died and to take joy again in the knowledge that their progeny continues down the ages. To meet a great-great-grandson of a dear friend and realise they have the same colour eyes or the love of the same terrible love songs.

Yes, Julian was thankful to be alive on Deep Space 9 at this moment in time, with the delightful prospect of meeting an attractive Cardassian.

Besides he was still a doctor and there were benefits to frontier medicine. Novelty for one. Societal rules tended to be a little laxer when you were Operating at the edges of Federation space too. Where else would he meet a Cardassian, Ferengi and a Bajoran all in the same place.

Lunch

Julian was a little puzzled that Garak hadn’t approached him yet. He had carefully put his plan in action. Pretending he didn’t notice Garak watching him from the shadows. When Garak put himself in Julian’s path, Julian acted startled yet intrigued to perfection. Shooting sidelong looks at the Cardassian and flushing when Garak caught him looking.

He had pranced by his shop a dozen times, smiling and eager to chat to all the other shop owners. Julian was careful to add just the right amount of desperation, of eagerness, flirting with anyone single and breathing. He followed this up with solitary meals at Quark’s or the Replimat, looking wistful, hoping another person would take pity on him and join him. Projecting just the right amount of vulnerability to tempt an Obsidian Order agent.

Julian was having fun, he hadn’t had to stretch his clandestine muscles since his reawakening. Here on DS9, at the edge of Federation space was the perfect place to get some practice in, and on a Cardassian too.

He pondered on the identity of Garak, the longer it took the man to make contact with him, the higher Julian estimated his skill at espionage. He was obviously good at what he did and had learnt the lesson on patience unlike the very young Agent Varn. All those years ago.

Julian wasn't an impatient man, he had all the time in the world to attract Garak's attention. But he was pleased when he noticed Garrett following him after passing his shop today.

A delightful thrill of excitement spiralled down his spine as he set down his lunch and drink at his table. He chose this seat as one of Quark’s employees sat across the aisle from Julian, who luckily was wearing a garish jacket, that happened to be just reflective enough to alert Julian when the Cardassian approached.

Julian’s heart skipped a beat when the figure reflected in the Ferengi’s jacket, paused. Obviously Garak must be getting food or drink. The murmured conversation of the other patrons there that day, disguised Garak’s foot steps as he approached. Julian allowed himself a quick wicked grin as he anticipated getting his saliva sample. ‘Right, remember what Ian used to say, centre yourself, breath out, and project the thoughts and emotions you want the audience to see. AND GO!’ Julian thought as Garak hovered behind him, waiting for Julian to notice him.

Julian concentrated on his breath, ignoring Garak. The anticipation was like electric currents across his skin, his senses hummed. Garak was now close enough that he could hear the brush of cloth as he moved. The subtle shift in weight, the only sign of Garak’s impatience at not being acknowledged.

Garak coughed. Julian acted startled, making sure to give him a wide eyed look of alarm and just a soupçon of interest. And they were off.

Oh he was very good indeed, Julian thought as Garak flattered and flirted with Julian. Every word chosen to throw off an inexperienced new Doctor he was supposed to be, just starting out on his career. Garak didn’t know how lucky he actually was to get the very experienced Remnant Julian Bashir instead. He is sure in hindsight, Garak would appreciate Julian’s skill at subterfuge

Julian could already tell they were going to have the absolute best fun together.

Julian studied the Cardassian’s face as he played the ingénue to Garak’s lothario. ‘Yes’ Julian thought, he does look familiar. A strong face filled with character, not handsome by Cardassia’s standards. But such bright and intelligent eyes he had.

Julian had a hyperthymesia memory also known as an autobiographical memory. His ancient Progenitors had designed Remnants this way, it shortened training considerably if you only had to show your soldiers something once.

Julian flicked through every face of every Cardassian he had ever met. Comparing them to Garak. Until he stopped on Jorik Varn. ‘No! It couldn’t be, could it?’ Julian wondered.

Varn had only been 26 at the time he met Julian, still considered very young by Obsidian Order standards. Julian had managed to keep track on the young agent after they parted, the benefit of knowing one of the Galaxies best computer programmers, who had given Julian a worm to plant in his report on cloaking devices.

Julian flicked to a slightly blurry image of Varn when he had been about sixty, he had gotten from his little worm.

Yes the mature Varn, bore an even stronger resemblance to Garak, a strong body, A cunning mind. A certain look about the eyes and mouth. Julian was positive that Garak and Varn were related. Were they father and son or uncle and nephew? Julian really wanted that saliva sample now.

It was thinking of Varn that brought the realisation to Julian’s mind that the station would be uncomfortable cold for Garak. Julian made sure no worry appeared on his face. The station was kept at 23C, a compromise due to the different aliens living on board. He wondered how Garak was coping. Julian couldn’t help his instincts as a doctor come to the fore, and wondered if being continually cold put the Cardassian’s body under stress. Maybe when he knows him better he can ask.

Julian refocuses his attention back on to what Garak is saying.

Julian admired the pure artistry of the Cardassian as he made a dramatic show of looking around and saying, "In fact, an actual Remnant?"

Julian caught the flicker of uncertainty in Garak’s eyes, the subtle colour shift in his eye ridges at Julian’s loud confirmation of his status as a ‘Remnant’. It amused Julian watching Garak gauge the other customer’s reaction to Julian’s announcement and how a good number of them were now riveted to their conversation. It must make the Cardassian nervous to be so obviously observed when he was used to plying his craft in the shadows.

Julian made sure to warn Garak, “That I am the most dangerous and cunning foe you will ever meet,” after all it’s not Julian’s fault if Garak doesn’t believe him.

Julian studied Garak and was pleased when he saw how disconcerted he had made the Cardassian with his emotional display.

‘Did he distract him enough?’ Julian thought.

Julian gave Garak a few minutes to eat and compose himself.

When Julian judged that the time was right, he abruptly stood from his seat. Forcing Garak to stand too if he didn’t want to be in a position of weakness.

Julian let himself feel a genuine feeling of anticipation and attraction when Garak caressed his shoulder and whispered in his ear.

What a wonderful meeting. The best part of the lunch was that he had so disarmed Garak, he had left the detritus of his lunch, ripe for the picking. Through a classic diversion tactic of dropping his cutlery to the floor, making a spectacle of himself, Julian was able to palm his fork and hide Garak’s cup.

Perfect! He should have enough to get a readable sample to see if Garak was related to Varn. He wasn’t sure if Garak’s possible relationship to Varn will alter Julian’s plans for Garak. He will wait for the test results before making any decisions.

Julian hurried back to his office in the infirmary so he can stash his bounty from lunch, for further analysis. But first he was off to the Command Center.

Command Center

The lift platform hasn’t even stopped when Julian bounded into the Command Center, ensuring he garners everyone present attention. Julian makes a bee line to Chief O’Brien who is busily working at one of the engineering consoles, uniform sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

The lights flashed through Cardassian symbols and highlighting sections of a schematic of the station. Someone had stuck inaccurate translations above many of the symbols. Julian could speak and read three of the most important Cardassian languages: Military, Standard and High Cardassian, a language reserved for the politicians and intellectuals. Too bad no one had asked Julian if spoke any other languages. It was a weakness that the universal translator encouraged. It was a valuable lesson that the Chief’s people would soon learn, Julian thought with a smirk.

“You won’t believe who just sat next to me at the Replimat,” He eagerly tells the Chief. Miles ignores Julian and continues working, informing Major Kira that the pylon will be shut down for the next 48 hours.

This was exactly what Julian expected. Raising his voice to an almost fever pitch he cries, “the spy, Garak. Out of the blue, just comes right up to me and introduces himself.” Julian ensures to look around excitedly to see if anyone is paying attention.

He catches Commander Sisko’s interest, “We don’t know for a fact that Garak is a spy Doctor,” he warns Julian. Julian chases after Sisko as the man walks to another console, “He is, you should have heard him,” he insists enthusiastically. “He made contact with me of all people!” he desperately persuades them. Jadzia looks at Julian’s antics sceptically. While the commander continues to read his pad, barely paying attention, while Julian bounces around the command center like a puppy yapping for attention and pets.

“What do you think he might want from you Julian,” Jadzia says with a poorly hidden smile on her face, deciding to get some fun out of Julian, to enliven a boring shift of scheduled maintenance. Ben gives his old friend a quelling look for purposefully encouraging the enthusiastic doctor. “Federation medical secrets. Or maybe,” Julian pauses dramatically here. Eyes huge with possibilities, “he wants to seduce me to get the secrets of the Remnants from me,” Kira snorts unflatteringly at this suggestion, and gives Julian a disgusted ‘YOU!’ look, as if she can’t imagine anyone in the entire Galaxy wanting to seduce Julian, as she strolls around the Command Center checking on the work of the officers under her command.

Not a surprising response from Kira as Julian had purposefully said some uncouth words to her about the excitement of working frontier medicine in the middle of nowhere. He basically insulted her home to her face. Resulting in Kira’s anger and dislike. Which was the purpose of the comment and Julian’s continued goal to be a non-threatening Remnant. Hard to think of Julian as a threat when you considered him to be an idiot.

Jadzia out right laughs at the idea. Sisko sighs, and Chief O’Brien grimaces and looks like he wants to smash his face into his console. Julian mimics looking slightly dejected at their reactions, but then rallies. “Don’t you worry, Sir. He won’t get anything out of me,” Julian finishes with determination and performs one of his patented fake karate chops. Here the Chief does actually bang his head on the console.

“After all I am a Remnant, practically designed for espionage and warfare,” he enthusiastically tells everyone. “I am sure you are right, Doctor,” Sisko indulges the doctor.

Going back over to the Chief, “I am sure Chief O’Brien can set up a monitoring device on me,” Julian suggests eagerly. Chief O’Brien rolls his eyes hard at this suggestion. Julian turns back to Sisko, “Just in case he is up to something,” Julian says hopefully.

“I don’t think that will be necessary doctor,” Sisko replies sternly, his patience starting to wear thin. Sisko was coming around to having Bashir on board the station, he was a good doctor. But a little of Bashir went a long way, as the saying went. “Just be cautious in your interactions,” he advised. Julian was pleased with the crew’s reaction to his news. But the soldier in him was somewhat contemptuous at their responses. Did they really think that Garak was harmless? Julian had spotted that the Cardassian was an Obsidian Order agent from the first moment he saw Garak.

Ben had been suspicious too when he heard about the Cardassian remaining on the station. Star Fleet security had done a thorough review of Garak and didn’t find anything that pointed to him being a spy for Cardassia’s Central Command. Ever since the war with Cardassia Star Fleet had maintained a close watch on their military operations and any military agents they could identify.

He had consulted with Major Kira as soon as he came aboard the station. He reasoned that the Bajoran’s would have a vested interest in identifying any spies in their midst. But Kira’s contacts had come up with nothing suspicious. Garak had appeared on the station twenty months before the occupation had ended. He was an excellent tailor, naturally most of his customers were Cardassian. But any Bajorans he dealt with, he had been professional and unusually polite. The Cardassian wasn’t particularly liked, more like tolerated by the inhabitants of the station. Of course, he had one advantage over other Cardassian’s as far as the Bajorans were concerned: the despised Gul Dukat obviously hated the Cardassian tailor.

Just then Major Kira who had been intently watching one of the screens on a console, called out that there was a small craft acting erratically in DS9’s airspace. And the Command Center staff jumped into action. Jadzia quickly swung back to her station and calling up the Stations sensor readings. Chief O’Brien cleared the maintenance details from his screen and brought up the various station defences.

“Dax, what can you tell me about the ship?” Sisko urgently asked. The noise level jumped in the Command center as various officers focused on their duty station, preparing information that they could provide to their commander as soon as he asked for it.

Julian’s work was done here. When they found out about Garak’s seduction of him later, he will take great pleasure in saying ‘I told you so.’ One the hand he was pleased that everyone was accepting his persona as a harmless, slightly annoying, inexperienced doctor. On the other hand, Start Fleet was all ‘Danger, Danger, Power Mad Remnants are on the loose,’ yet the entire senior staff completely overlooked the fact that he was a genetically engineered soldiers and therefor must have the requisite skills that go along with that moniker. Julian shook his head at the contrary emotions he was experiencing on the subject. It just goes to show that the Prime truly understood the mortals as it seemed his grand scheme was working just as he predicted.

Julian quickly left the others to their work and hopped back on to the lift platform, the noise from the Command Center slowly receding as the lift dropped down to the floor below. Besides Julian was eager to get back to the samples he had gotten from Garak that lunch time.

Chapter 5: Plans are a foot

Chapter Text

Garak

From a comfortable chair in his quarters, Garak watched the security feed showing Dr Bashir eagerly enter the command center. Practically begging for attention from his fellow crew members. Pitiful really. Unfortunately, the security feed didn’t have sound. Garak was running an interpretation program instead that was able to provide some captions.

Garak allowed himself a faint, satisfied smile as he observed the doctor reporting their encounter. What was that strange thing he keeps doing with his hands, he wondered, as he watched the enthusiastic young man do some sort of stylised motion. Instead of consternation at the show of luck of trust by the Doctor, he experienced a feeling of relief, as it was a reassuring sign of the young Remnant's nascent survival instincts. Indicating that the man wasn’t completely without wit.

The senior staff truly didn’t see how vulnerable the young Remnant was. He watched how Dax laughed and the Chief rolled his eyes. Garak shook his head ruefully at their short sightedness. Oh well! Garak thought it was to his benefit. It will be harder for them to separate the doctor from him after their mocking dismissal.

It was at these times that the alienness of the humans on the station were highlighted. Cardassian’s would instinctively feel the danger the human was in, the weakness he presented to Cardassian military order. Except on Cardassia he wouldn’t suffer prejudice due to his genetically engineered status. So wouldn’t present a weakness. A quandary to be mulled over.

Garak will be able to set himself up as the only person on board Deep Space 9 who appreciates the Remnant. The doctor’s first friend here. Hopefully he will have the doctor so besotted he won’t listen to them when they eventually realise the danger he represents.

The Federation represents Augments as inherently dangerous, due to their genetic modification. The Remnants even more dangerous, as they truly are genetically engineered soldiers. Garak has heard the muttering from the star fleet officers, around the station. Some of them aren’t happy to have Bashir on board, even though he is by all accounts a very good doctor. Isolating the Doctor, making him more vulnerable to manipulation.

Garak leans back in his pleasantly warm quarters. The lighting subdued, best suiting Cardassian eyes. Finding the subtle changes in colour of the décor soothing. The environmental controls set to a delicious 36C, a welcome relief from the perpetually chilly station since the Federation had taken control of the structure.

The station once a comfort with its Cardassian design aesthetic. Was now a source of dissonance as each day the Bajoran’s and Human’s added another foreign element. Gone were subdued lighting, gentle on Cardassian eyes. To this garish bright white light Human’s seemed to prefer and the horrid cold.

Just thinking of the cold, motivated Garak to put on a lounging jacket of soft dark green material. Garak thoughts returned to the young doctor. He had read everything he could find on the doctor and though he was English by birth he spent time with his family in Sudan. Garak had looked the place up and it was a country on the Continent of Africa, not quite as hot as Cardassia. But the doctor should find his quarters bearable. Once the true seduction begins.

He ruminated on the information he had gathered, savouring the anticipation of the game he was about to play. He hoped the doctor would offer some sort of challenge. Boredom was the greatest punishment of his exile. So little intrigue to captivate him.

He looked at the young man in the video image, tall and willowy. Garak had always preferred male companions, but the doctor was a far cry from the lovers Garak chose for himself. But Garak will admit to himself, if no-one else, that he was more attracted to intellect and experience, above youth and good looks. From the records he had read the doctor was impressively intelligent. But at such a young age, has the young man developed any sophistication in taste? Garak thought.

Garak cringed at the thought of introducing the young man to ‘The Never Ending Sacrifice’, he shuddered thinking at what the young man would say about it. Garak had yet to meet a human who truly appreciated the seminal work. He was familiar with what humans considered to be culturally significant. Garak shuddered at the thought of the insipid human entertainments he would be subjected to.

When Garak went through training at the Obsidian Order, there had been rumours of how a now senior agent on his first ever off-world assignment had been forced to sit through 15 hours of ‘Christmas Movies and pretend to enjoy it. As soon as the agent had any power, he had insisted that all students were forced to watch ‘Miracle on 34^th Street’. The banality, the horror of that ‘movie’, a cherished art form that was loved by humans all over the quadrant. Garak wasn’t sure if the other students understood what their superior was trying to teach them during that class.

That humans would accept a happy untruth rather than an unpalatable reality. That no one was better at lying to humans than the humans themselves. That agent truly learnt a valuable lesson that day. If you understood this, then they were easy to manipulate. Garak was fully prepared to exploit this knowledge to manipulate one Doctor Julian Bashir. Garak smiled to himself enjoying the prospect of it.

Garak stood and walked to the replicator, he selected an aromatic red leaf tea, a favourite of the Cardassian. Garak inhaled the sharp scent of the steam and enjoyed the warmth of the cup. Garak was happy that the Federation hadn’t removed all Cardassian fare from the programming. Garak took his drink and settled back into his familiar chair. Taking a sip of his tea, savouring the bitter flavour, and contemplating his current life.

Sometimes during the loneliest times of his exile, when the weight of separation from his culture and people bore down on him, when he feels particularly angry at the betrayal by his father. Garak found solace in raising a glass to that unknown human, who unwittingly subjected the great Enbrane Tain to 15 hours of unmitigated torture. It brought warmth back into his bones and the barest upturn of his lips at the thought of his father, sitting through that with his own human subject, feigning enjoyment.

He contemplated his next step. Would Julian come to him? Hmmm, it would be best for his scheme. It would give Julian a false impression of control. Now should he ask him to lunch or dinner? Dinner might be too blatant, traditional a time for romantic intentions. But lunch is a nice friendly meal, suited to conversation. But if the doctor was oblivious, he might not understand the subtlety of lunch conversation. In Garak’s experience with human men, especially the young ones, best not to be too obscure in his actions.

But still, he couldn't help but relish the prospect of inviting the doctor to dinner—a move that would set the stage for his subtle seduction.

Garak was looking forward to achieving his goal of earning the Remnants trust. He only wished it would be a true test of his skills.

Oh well, at least it would relieve some of his boredom. His eyes flicked to the frozen image of the Doctor on the screen. He looked so young and eager to please, Garak can’t remember if he was ever that young himself. For a nanosecond, a twinge of doubt or perhaps guilt crept into Garak's mind as he considered the energetic young man on the screen. The fleeting thought of whether the doctor would be a worthy companion to assuage his loneliness lingered briefly before being dismissed.

Julian

Julian was sitting in his office, he had set the lights to give a warm ambience. He lent back in his chair and stretched, while he waited for the results of the initial analysis from Garak’s saliva. He had lifted Garak’s fingerprints from the cup and fork and made use of his worm into the Cardassian data systems. This was made easier as the systems on board Deep Space 9 were still compatible with Cardassia Prime’s Data Network System. It had been many years since Julian had, had such unfettered access to Cardassia information.

As soon as he got back his fluid analysis from Garak’s saliva he would add it in to his search parameters. Julian’s own personal database was secured and based on the Progenitor technology they left on earth during the development of the Remnants. The Remnant Prime along with their dedicated computer scientists spent centuries studying the technology and had come up with improvements that even the Progenitors hadn’t envisioned at the time.

Based on the principles of quantum mechanics, the basis of their life force. The Remnants had developed a data network system that was out of phase with the materialistic world akin to the mycelium network, accessing a Quantum domain and providing infinite storage capacity and instantaneous communication in the Galaxy. The Remnants had yet to discover a limit to the distance they could communicate with.

The anticipation in Julian's office was palpable as his computer console beeped, signalling the completion of the analysis. His posture straightened, and his nimble fingers danced across the display screens, swiftly interpreting the results. The light from the display screen reflected on his face, highlighting his eagerness. With a few deft taps, the outcome of the comparison between 'Varn' and Garak's samples materialised on the screen. The revelation was as he had speculated—there existed a 99.97% probability that the samples indicated a paternal relationship.

"Well, well, well," Julian muttered to himself. The familial connection between Garak and 'Varn,' or rather Enbrane Tain and his son Garak, added a layer of complexity to the enigmatic Cardassian's presence on Deep Space 9. Questions began to flood Julian's mind as he pondered Garak's motives for being on the station. The stakes, he speculated, had taken an unexpected turn.

It became apparent to Julian that Garak might be harbouring a deep desire to leave Deep Space 9, possibly seeking redemption or acceptance back on Cardassia. The revelation of his connection to the notoriously exacting and vindictive Enbrane Tain could explain why he was on the station. Julian speculated that Garak had failed at some task that Tain had set for him. Now Garak sought redemption, a bargaining chip to secure his return home and the absolution of past transgressions. It seemed Garak was betting that a Remnant or their secrets, was the currency he needed.

Julian is confident in his skills to evade any traps that Garak might set for him. Julian was sure that any biological samples that Garak will have the opportunity to collect, won’t reveal any of the Remnants genetic secrets. He will consult with Flix to make sure that his supposition is correct. He knows Tain had spent decades trying to get information on the Remnants. Tain had failed. He doesn’t think anything had changed in the technology of the Cardassian’s in the last three decades that could defeat their defences.

The Progenitors had been fighting a centuries long war against a technically advanced foe, when they designed their soldiers. They had been paranoid. They ensured things like saliva, sweat, ejacul*te, or shed skin cells didn’t contain anything other than normal DNA that could be found in anywhere in the quadrant. It was their quantum life force that was the key to the Remnants extraordinary abilities. There were no machines outside of the control of the Remnants themselves that could detect this force.

Julian shot of a message to Flix, asking about the current capabilities of Cardassian scientists and a précis of his current situation with Garak.

Next he updates his search criteria with the saliva results and lets the passive search of Cardassia’s data network on any information it can find on Garak. Any information gathered will be sent to his secured drop box.

His immediate tasks completed Julian starts to notice the stiffness in his muscles from being still for multiple hours. Checking the time he sees it is quite late. There was nothing more for him to do until tomorrow morning, regarding the next steps to attract Garak. ‘The station gym is probably mostly empty’, he thinks, ‘now would be a good time to get a workout in’.

He locks his console and secures his office behind him. He waves goodbye to the Bajoran doctor and nurse still on duty. And heads to the gym. The most amazing thing about modern living is the ability to replicate anything you might need, he ponders. He remembers Flix being involved in the basic model when it was first developed.

Julian smiles, the day before he had finally talked the Chief in having a game of racket ball. He liked the gruffness of the man; he reminded Julian of the old Generals he had known in his youth. Rough no nonsense men. They had set their first game at 15:30 tomorrow, he was looking forward to the game. It was always more enjoyable to have a living, breathing opponent, then a computer generated one.

He will have to go easy on the man, he doesn’t want to scare him off in the first game, after all Julian would appreciate a regular Racket ball partner. Julian enjoys physical exercise, he doesn’t get as much as he would like in this modern world. ‘I’ll have an intense workout tonight,’ Julian thought, ‘see if I can work out some of the jitters.’

Walking through the station at a brisk pace, the slight hum of the power generators can be detected through the soles of his feet, as he passes through the empty corridors. Space stations always have a unique smell, different from planet side. People leave a residue behind them, whether it’s oils from their, skin, fur or scales. No matter the cleaning mechanism it buries in deep.

The smell most closely resembles the Cardassian embassy he had visited when he worked at QTII all those years a go.

In the gym he replicates workout clothes and changes.

It’s only when he set a burning pace on the treadmill that he experience a moment of dissonance when he captures his reflection in the mirror. He looks so different now that it still surprises himself sometimes. He is at least twelve centimetres taller, his complexion was darker too. He was always bronzed, but more Greek in appearance, his hair was lighter and straight. He was much more handsome before, he didn’t miss the attention his looks used to garner.

Julian took the risk of being reborn for that exact reason, to look different, to be different. To have a reset. It was a rare ability to be able manipulate their own reproduction abilities to be reborn. Only the really old Remnants could manage it. The biggest risk is that you the person before won’t transfer and you will loose all power, skills and memories you had accumulated over the centuries of life.

The risk was worth it in Julian’s opinion. Julian had the misfortune of being a fulcrum: someone destined to witness pivotal points in history. No matter where he went sooner or later some great moment was bound to occur. This in of itself wouldn’t be a problem except that certain Watchers were entitled, and believed it was their sacred duty to record every experience of the Remnants and eyewitness testimony of the entire human history.

That was one of the reasons Julian had chosen this posting. On the outskirts of Federation space, Light-years away from anything important. A nice quiet corner of the quadrant. Nothing major was going to happen here.

Julian can concentrate on his game with Garak to relieve any possible boredom and the intellectual challenge of being a Doctor at edge of space.

Julian moved to the weight machine and set the weights to an eye watering level for an average human for Julian’s body type. He continued his workout, enjoying the pull on his muscles, the physicality of the motion.

Sweat gathered on his hot skin, his clothes quickly absorbed the moisture. Hmmm, Garak, he pondered as he worked his muscles. He would go to his shop during his morning break and ask for a racket ball outfit for his and the Chief’s game. This would foster intimacy with the measuring and fitting of the new garment and then encourage swiftness on Garak’s part when he learnt that he was playing with Chief O’Brien. It would be in Garak’s interest to establish a relationship with him before Julian established a more secure connection with the crew.

Would he ask him to lunch or dinner? He wondered. Julian had been presenting himself as desperate for attention and company.

Dinner he thought, he will want to establish his intentions from the beginning. This is where it through up a moral quandary for Julian. He was all for a tumble in the sheets, it was an healthy activity for two consenting adults. This was the sticking point for Julian. He knew that Garak was seducing Julian for his own gain. Julian knew this, knew what game Garak was playing and could fully consent and participate in any sexual activity fully.

But Garak didn’t know that Julian was playing him, so couldn’t consent. On the other hand Garak was an Obsidian Order agent, it was part of his job. He knew the potential risks when he pursued Julian. Is it Julian’s responsibility to inform him. After all Garak has assessed him as a low risk target. Argh! Having moral conscience was a pain.

There was also the fact that Julian had a prior relationship with Garak’s father Tain, when he was undercover as Jorik Varn. It wasn’t personal for either of them, but what son would be happy to have an affair with his father’s former lover? Well what mortal would be happy, Julian corrected himself.

Family relationships for Remnants were different than the binary arrangement that a lot of species seemed to gravitate to. Julian knew who his Remnant father was and had known the man for a very long time. But the love they shared was more akin to friendship. A remnant child looked upon their father more as a mentor or guide.

He finishes on that piece of equipment, wipes down the seat and anything he touched and moved to the next piece of equipment. He placed his feet on the rest and pushed, the muscles in his legs stretched and flexed, he made sure not to lock his knees. He continued his repetition.

He had warned Garak that he was dangerous at lunch, sure it was such away that Garak wouldn’t believe him. Cardassian’s had a weakness that they automatically assumed they were superior to everyone they met. Unless that person jumped them and pounded their head until they conceded the other person in this one small area was maybe equal to them. It was how it was so easy to manipulate Enabrane Tain as ‘Agent Varn’ all those years ago.

Julian continued to work out. Pressing his legs hard, another five minutes of this and he would feel the delicious burn in his muscles. He didn’t need to work out to maintain perfect physical fitness due to his genetics. But Julian derived a lot of pleasure from physical action. He liked the feel of his body in motion especially when he was performing something physically arduous.

His mind drifted back to Garak, he would have to play it by ear. If during any intimate moment Garak looked uncomfortable or not actually in to the moment. Julian could put a stop to it and play coy. He was aware of the physical signs of male Cardassian’s arousal. Physical arousal was pretty hard to fake.

Yes, this is what Julian would do, he would watch carefully and ensure Garak was enjoying himself too.

Julian enjoyed all the permutations of mortal relationships. He expected to have a simple male friendship with O’Brien, based on mutual interests (sports and history) and drinking. With the occasional foray into emotional topics. But Julian already foresaw that his relationship with Garak, had the potential to be more intricate and complex.

With just ten more reps to complete, Julian concentrated on his legs and muscles. And he was done. He stood to do some stretches. “Man that was impressive,” said a well built ensign who had entered the gym as Julian was working on his legs. “Thanks, I like to get in a good work out a couple of times a week,” Julian said in a friendly manner.

He got a cool drink of water from the replicator. Finishing his water and collecting his uniform he waved goodbye to the couple of men and left for his quarters. His plan in place and mind at ease after a good workout.

Julian pottered about his quarters, preparing for bed. His thoughts turning once more to Garak. Speculating that Garak would understand all the shades of grey. Maybe there would be the scope to develop a more profound relationship. Julian suddenly smiled to himself, realising just how much time he had spent thinking about Garak since their brief encounter at lunch.

Julian pulled up his soft warm blanket he had taken out of storage and settled against his preferred feather. Letting the familiar comfort of to sleep, happy thinking of the potential of this station.

Chapter 6: Date Night

Chapter Text

Garak’s Shop

Garak found himself engrossed in the familiar dance of negotiation with the Ferengi, revelling in the challenge of outwitting the crafty merchants. Haggling with Ferengi was, in Garak's estimation, a mental exercise that kept his wits sharp. He approached the deal with his customary finesse, starting with an exorbitant initial price, fully aware that the Ferengi would attempt to drive it down to a more reasonable figure. The Ferengi clientele on the station were, overall, Garak's most frequent patrons, and he relished the art of bargaining with them.

Midway through this financial tête-à-tête, the entrance of Doctor Bashir into his shop momentarily interrupted Garak's focused negotiation. The Cardassian, sensing a fleeting disappointment in the doctor's expression upon seeing him occupied, offered a brief smile before returning his attention to the ongoing deal. The doctor, undeterred, began to peruse the various garments on display.

Garak, keenly aware of Julian's presence, his long limbs and litheness, effortlessly drawing Garak’s eyes. He tried to maintain an air of nonchalance. However, the subtle change in his tactics with the Ferengi betrayed a touch of impatience. Knowing that impatience could lead to unfavourable deals with Ferengi, Garak controlled his demeanour, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the doctor.

As Julian wandered through the racks, appreciating the soft textures and bold colours of Garak's creations, he couldn't help but assess the quality of the merchandise. The man was always dressed tastefully, a walking advertisem*nt of his wares. An appraising look was cast towards the Cardassian tailor, contemplating the depth of Garak's skills beyond the art of tailoring. The thought of unexplored talents lingered in Julian's mind, prompting a tentative smile as he noticed Garak's gaze directed briefly in his direction.

Observing a subtle tightening around Garak's eyes and a minute change in colour around his eye ridges, Julian concealed a quick grin. It appeared that Garak was equally eager to embark on their anticipated dance of wits. The stage was set, and the exchange between the doctor and the Cardassian tailor promised to be more than a simple transaction.

At last, the Ferengi signs the contract with Garak at leaves the shop.

Casually Garak updates his terminal, not wanting to appear too eager. With a final few strokes of his fingers, all the details the Ferengi wanted for his new suit have been completed. Ready for when Garak starts working on the order.

Finally, Garak turns his attention to the young man showing his impatience subtly as he shifts his wait from foot to foot. Garak notices the doctors index finger tapping against his leg. “My dear doctor, I am so sorry to keep you waiting,” Garak says effusively giving the young man a pleased smile.

Julian returns Garak’s smile with a grin, only wishing he had more time for this meeting. “I remembered, ah, from our conversation the other day, that you were a tailor and you invited me to your shop, so here I am,” Julian says awkwardly, making sure to dip his head and look away.

“Yes Doctor, I do remember I told you I owned a clothier shop,” Garak replied, enjoying the young man’s confusion. He didn’t want to make it too easy on the Doctor.

“Er, you can just call me Julian if you want,” Julian said with a smile, he moved his head so he could look coyly at Garak through his eyelashes. Not an easy feat when Julian was several centimetres taller than the Cardassian.

“Julian, my newest friend, how can I help you today?” Garak solicitously asks. Garak threw a discerning eye over the young man. Julian’s uniform was not flattering at all in fit, though the teal colour of the uniform accents did not clash too terribly with his skin tone.

Garak waits expectantly for Julian to reply. Julian is just standing in his shop, with a smile and a faraway look in his eyes, the picture of happiness.

“Oh yes!” Julian says, a flush staining his cheeks. “Well, I am a keen sportsman, what with being a super soldier and all, so I like to keep fit,” Julian explains unabashedly, emphasising his words with an uncoordinated arm flex.

Garak blinks at him. ‘Why is he always making such strange movements, is this some peculiar characteristic of being a Remnant?’ wonders Garak.

“Well apparently Chief O’Brien is a keen racket ball player, and he has invited me for a game. I find I am in need of a suitable sporting outfit,” Julian explains. “Something colourful”.

Garak makes sure to have an interested look on his face, ‘damn,’ he thought, ‘he didn’t expect the young doctor or ‘Julian’ to persuade the engineer to play with him’. Chief O’Brien seemed the dour sort, the exact type of man to find Julian’s happy manners and chattiness to be annoying. Garak showed Julian to one of his consoles to look at different sporting styles available. ‘I will have to invite Julian out straightaway, before anyone in the crew gains influence over the young man’, he thought.

Julian stood close to Garak, the Cardassian’s physical presence was pleasing, his broad shoulders almost touching Julian’s. He also smelt delicious, like Rooibos tea, ‘Yum!’, thought Julian.

Julian had washed his hair with a shampoo that he synthesized himself, using the Cardassian climbing vine ‘Lumara Velex’, as a base scent. The bloom only flowers at night and has a very appealing scent to Cardassian’s, according to a gardener Julian knew once. He paired it with sandal wood, by his calculations, Garak should find the scent compelling.

The warmth emanating from Julian was pleasant, Garak couldn’t help shifting closer to the doctor. Any additional warmth was attractive in the frigid air of the station. ‘Hmmm,’ Garak was delightfully surprised, Julian smelled tantalising. Usually to Garak’s nose, humans had a sour tang to their scent. Not exactly unpleasant, but not especially appealing either.

Julian chose form fitting shorts, paired with a singlet. Julian ‘oohed’ over the selection of patterns and colours of the fabric. He was delighted and enthusiastically flipped through the options available to him. Julian chose a soft breathable fabric, cream in colour with vibrant vivid green diagonal stripes.

Julian turned back to Garak and caught the man with pursed lips and frowning eyes at Julian’s choice. The look on his face startled an enchanted laugh from Julian. Garak quickly banished the look from his face, transitioning to a more congenial expression.

“My apologies Julian I was distracted for a moment, thinking of a task due later”.

“I know my taste is not what people deem to be fashionable,” Julian said, allowing himself to express a genuine opinion. “But I have been drawn to bright colours ever since I was a child,” Julian confided, “I decided a while back, that I will only please myself, at least when it comes to fashion”.

“A very determined opinion for one so young,” Garak said with a flattering smile. “If you will just walk this way, I will get you measured. Please just stand on this mark here on the floor. I will set the scanner”.

Julian couldn’t help but laugh at ‘walk this way’. Garak looked at Julian, his eye ridges flaring slightly, denoting his puzzlement. “My apologies Julian, did I mispronounce something? I have always been complimented on the mastery of my Standard?” Queried Garak, feeling disconcerted at Julian’s unexpected reaction.

Julian raises his hand in apology, looking chagrined, shifting his wait slightly. “Sorry, Sorry! Your words ‘Walk this way’ reminded me of an ancient comedy skit,” Julian smiled warmly at Garak, a slight crinkle could be seen at the corner of his eyes.

“A skit?”

“Oh right, erm, a skit is a self-contained performance, usually no longer than ten minutes long, for the purpose of making the audience laugh,” Julian explained.

“In this ‘skit’ an actor would say ‘walk this way’ and they then perform a comical walk, while all the other performers in the skit would mimic them,” said Julian.

Garak was even more confused now, “And this is entertaining?”

“It’s a visual joke, it has been around for thousands of years on Earth,” explained Julian. “I think it is one of the few uniquely human art forms in the universe. Maybe I can show you an example at some time?” Julian asked tentatively a hopeful look in his eyes.

Once again Garak felt discombobulated by this unexpected topic of conversation, putting on a bright smile. ”Of course, doctor, it sounds... educational”. ‘Surely it couldn’t be as bad as ‘Miracle on 34^th Street, could it?’ holding his face in a pleasant expression, Garak skilfully set about capturing Julian's measurements.

Garak was starting to fear that even in this low stake operation he would regret the deactivation of his ‘wire’. An implant that enabled an agent to withstand torture if captured. On his banishment to the station, Tain had sent an operative who ruthlessly deactivated the device. Garak had a migraine for two days after that event.

Julian did a slight bounce, “yes educational, we could have a cultural exchange,” Julian babbled excitedly. “There is so much to share with you. I particularly love graphic novels. I am sure you will find them fascinating”. This meeting with Garak was proceeding wonderfully. ‘I wonder how long I will be able to bait him for?’ Julian speculated. Julian already felt that there were subtleties to Garak that were missing from Tain, who disappointedly, was single minded in his dedication to Cardassia. And thus, a bit boring, in Julian’s opinion.

‘Graphic novel’ Garak wearily contemplated, hoping it wasn’t a form of human p*rnography. If it was a novel, there must be some merit, Garak could gleam from it.

“Is it possible that my new outfit will be ready for today’s match?” asked Julian.

“I will ensure your new attire will be ready this afternoon,” Garak assured the other man. “Perhaps you can tell me how your game went with the Chief, this evening?”

Julian grasped his hands against his chest, dropped his head, a faint blush to his cheeks, before looking Garak directly in the eyes. “That would be lovely Garak”.

Garak admired Julian’s hazel eyes; it was a colour unseen on Cardassia. The most prominent eye colour was blue, then brown and black. Cardassian’s didn’t have mixed eye colours, even for those poor unfortunate souls who had some Bajoran parentage.

“Shall we meet at 20:00, on the promenade? I will reserve us a table at ‘Celestial Spice’, a clichéd name I know, but their food is reported to be one of the better options on the station,” Garak suggested. “It also has a lovely viewing window, that looks out over the pylons of the station and the star field beyond”.

Smiling Julian agrees to Garak’s invitation. He pays for his new sporting attire and then excuses himself, so that he may return to his patients.

Evening

Julian had found himself inundated with a flurry of emergencies, each one demanding immediate attention. To add to the chaos, Commander Sisko had inexplicably decided to relocate the station to a new orbital position. The abrupt movement caught everyone off guard, with the red alert warning immediately preceding the move.

The consequence of this action was a cascade of injuries – contusions, cuts, and broken bones – as the station's inhabitants were left with insufficient time to secure themselves in safer locations. Concerned friends and relatives had to carry the wounded officers and civilians to the medical infirmary, where Julian, alongside his fellow doctors under his command, worked diligently to address the injuries.

The skilled nurses efficiently triaged the patients, allowing Julian and his colleagues to focus on administering treatment. Fortunately, no one suffered severe injuries, but the chaos disrupted Julian's plans for a friendly match with O'Brien. He understood that the Chief Engineer and his team were grappling with numerous breakdowns caused by the sudden movement of the station, taking precedence over their recreational activities.

Julian was hungry and exhausted, as he lent back in his office chair, stretching the kinks from his back, as he updated his patient notes. It was soothingly silent in his office, no noises reaching him through the sound damping field he had set in place. He had asked his head nurse to conduct a review of their inventory and order anything that they needed to restock. Julian needed to review his report and approve any of the more dangerous drugs.

Julian rubbed his tired eyes and then massaged his temples to relieve some of the tension he was experiencing. He knew as a Remnant, even a short nap would restore him completely. But he could still experience the feelings of being tired and physically exhausted, even if his recovery time was rapid.

Reflecting on his Progenitors' design of his genetic code, Julian pondered the inclusion of sleep in his makeup. Despite only requiring six hours of sleep per night, it wasn't a necessity for his health or functionality. This enigma had been a subject of philosophical and scientific debate among Watchers and Remnants for centuries, with numerous theories proposed but no definitive answer.

The prevailing consensus leaned towards the idea that sleep was a social construct, strategically integrated to ensure Remnants seamlessly blended in with their mortal compatriots. The intricacies of human life often required adjustments for the Remnants to navigate, and sleep appeared to be one such adaptation to maintain the semblance of normalcy.

Julian checked the time on his console, ‘21:49, damn!’ he had even missed dinner with Garak. As a doctor he knew that Cardassian’s had a shorter Ciarcardic rhythm than humans, of about 22 hours, and on average Cardassian’s slept between 5 to 6 hours in every 22-hour period. ‘Hmmm, there’s a good chance that Garak is still awake,’ Julian pondered, ‘Should I chance it? See if he is still awake and willing to go for a late meal.’

One benefit to living on a space station was that for the entire 24-hour operating period there were always establishments open, to serve those people who worked on the opposing shifts.

Quickly changing his display to act as a mirror, Julian looked at his reflection. His curly hair was in somewhat of a disarray, easily corrected with a comb. He had a bit of stubble, it enhanced his jaw line, he thought, giving him an air of roguish charm. A quick check of the teeth, yes, he was still presentable.

With deft fingers he entered Garak’s com-code. ‘Calling’ flashed on the screen while he waited for the Cardassian to answer.

Garak answered the call, looking as neat as a pin. “Ah Julian. I did not expect you to call after the emergency today,” Garak said with a smile.

Julian brushed his hand over his head, disturbing his just combed hair. “My apologies Garak, it ‘was all hands to the pump’ as they say. I have just finished here and was hoping that it was not too late to get something to eat?” Julian asked with a hopeful look.

Garak noticing Julian’s rumpled state and the tiredness behind his eyes, smiled sympathetically. “I would be delighted,” Garak replied.

Julian could see Garak’s hand moving off screen.

“Yes, I have just contacted the restaurant and they are still opened and would have a table for us,” Garak explained.

Julian grinned at Garak, an air of relief about him. “Wonderful, I am so hungry I could eat a baby,” Julian told him with a weary smile.

“What alarming imagery you humans have. Unless as a Remnant you need to eat babies?” queried Garak with a tilt to his head, suddenly not looking quite sure of himself.

“Don’t worry Garak, it is one of those strange Human expressions,” Julian reassured him. “Besides it is our number one rule given to us by our Prime: ‘Try not to eat any humans, as it tends to upset them,’ I have always taken that to extend to all sentient beings. So, you are perfectly safe from me,” Julian explains seriously.

Garak smiles uncertainly, ‘that’s a joke, right!’ Garak couldn’t tell from the neutral expression on Julian’s face. His mouth and jaw were relaxed, he didn’t notice any of the crinkles around human eyes that denoted amusem*nt.

“So, we will meet in say 15 minutes at ‘Celestial Spice’, Julian?”

“Yes in 15 minutes, goodbye Garak,” Julian reaches out and disconnects the screen.

’15 minutes, I can shower here,’ Julian thinks, quickly standing and walked to the replicator. He has some off shift clothes programmed in the device. Nothing fancy. But clean. He didn’t want to wear his uniform after such a stressful day. He replicated a soft pair of charcoal grey trousers and a warm sage green jumper, with a subtle leaf motif integrated into the design. It was a replica of a jumper that his human grandfather had knitted for him as a young boy. He loved it so much, he had created a pattern for the replicator, so he can wear it whenever he wanted.

Every couple of years his grandfather knitted a new version of the jumper for him. Julian dreaded the day when he knew he would no longer receive a new jumper. Banishing the sad thought from his mind, Julian rushed to the staff locker room, where there was a sonic shower, he could use to clean himself.

Dinner

It was fifteen minutes exactly when he spotted Julian hurrying towards him on the Promenade. Garak took a private moment and admired the top Julian was wearing. It was very flattering to his complexion and physique, no doubt replicated’, he thought, uncharitably.

“Julian my dear,” Garak greeted warmly.

“Garak,” Julian returned, a hint of relief that the workday was over.

For a moment Julian inexplicably looked awkward, as if he aborted a motion or practiced action. “Are you alright Julian, it looked like you were about to do something?” Garak questioned.

Julian hands fidgeted as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “Ah, I suddenly realised I didn’t know the correct greeting,” Julian explained. “Human’s often shake hands, or embrace, or kiss, when greeting each other. Generally depending where they are from on earth,” Julian told Garak. “There are even some cultures on earth who greet each other by touching noses,” Julian continued with a grin.

This was an outright lie of course. Tain had taught him years ago, the formal greetings of Cardassia. Back then he had taken delight in constantly getting it ‘wrong’, to see if he could get Tain to break cover. That had been a fun game.

“Ah!” Garak nods in understanding. “There are some on Cardassia who greet each other by touching foreheads,” said Garak pointing to the delicate tear drop shaped crest on his forehead. “This is usually reserved for close family and lovers”.

Garak was delighted by the shy smile Julian displayed at the word ‘lovers’.

“But for good friends, an acceptable greeting is to touch the palms of the left hand together,” with saying this Garak held up his left hand, palm presented to Julian.

“Like this?” Julian asked, nervously raising his own palm mimicking Garak.

Garak pressed his palm against Julian’s warm hand. Garak was slightly dismayed to feel the rush of blood to his neck ridges, indicating attraction to those versed in Cardassian physiology. He then brought his hand slowly back down to his side. Even as a doctor, he didn’t think Julian would be able to parse the meaning, even if he noticed the change.

Julian was careful to keep his features neutral, as his sharp eyes caught the minute change in colour of Garak’s neck ridges. The equivalent of a human’s blush. He was pleased. He too had felt an uptick in his pulse at the touch of hands.

“It is just a momentary contact between friends. The contact can be longer and is usually an indicator of the closeness of the friendship,” Garak explained, as he regained control of his body.

“You said you were hungry; shall we go in?”

Julian and Garak walk into the restaurant. As expected after the day’s events the restaurant was only half full. A waiting hostess guided them to their table. An unusual experience for Julian was when he noticed the frosty reception Garak was receiving.

In recent years, since Julian’s Remnant status was revealed, he was generally met with suspicion at the minimum, at worst, outright hostility.

The hostess showed them to a table for two, directly beside the observation window. Julian absently wondered how much the proprietor had to pay to bag this prime location. The hostess showed them that the menu was projected in front of them, and they could order directly from the display. Julian thanked her as they were seated.

Once the hostess was out of earshot, Julian turned his attention back to Garak, “That was unusual. I am normally the one who garners the negative reaction wherever I go”.

“Ah, I believe that the Bajoran’s have no prohibition against genetic engineering. They do have an extreme dislike for Cardassian’s though,” Garak pointed out without ranker.

“Right, yes of course,” Julian turned his face away from Garak. “This window does have a good view of the pylons and the habitation ring,” Julian commented, covering for his faux pas.

“Do you know why they moved the station?” Garak fished for information.

“No idea. It’s not like I need to know. I am after all an evil genetically engineered soldier,” Julian said, he didn’t bother hiding his frustration from Garak. It did piss him off at these ridiculous rules Star Fleet put around serving Remnants. Of course, Julian had his own private access codes to the station computer security system, that he could use at any time to find out what was going on. The restrictions in place just bothered him. Highlighting the distrust his fellow officers felt for him.

“I believe I know exactly how you feel,” Garak empathises with Julian. Garak looks out the window. He couldn’t see any obvious reason why they had moved the station. “It doesn’t look very interesting here, I think we are even farther away from Bajor now too,” Garak opined.

Releasing a sigh, Julian lets the annoyance go, preparing to enjoy his meal with Garak. Turning his attention back to the menu, “Can you recommend anything?”

“Truthfully Julian, you are the first person I have ever taken here, and I did not feel confident to dine here alone,” said Garak with a rueful smile.

Julian immediately realised why this would be the case. “Ok, potluck it is then,” Julian said with an enthusiastic grin. Determined to lighten the mood of the meal. “How about the spice infused spring wine stew. It says here that they use fresh ingredients imported directly from Bajor?” Julian happily suggests.

“Yes, I have tried the replicated stew from the Replimat. It will be interesting to know how it differs from the fresh version,” Garak agrees. Garak looks at Julian and notices that the doctor looks far more relaxed now, though still tired. ‘This may be the perfect opportunity to gain some information on the Remnants,’ Garak thought.

Julian continued to hum happily as he placed the order for both of them, even selecting a paired wine to complement the meal. He looked back up at Garak with a contented smile. "I hope you don't mind that I've taken the liberty of ordering the wine as well," Julian mentioned.

Surrounded by the soft hum of patrons' conversations and the gentle clinking of tableware, the two men occupying a semi-private space, seated at least two tables away from other customers, fostering an intimate atmosphere. Even through the constant vibration of the station.

Garak responded flirtatiously, "I hope you're not trying to get me intoxicated to take advantage of me”.

"Absolutely not," Julian replied firmly, his mouth tight and brows furrowed. The unexpected seriousness in Julian's response surprised Garak, who didn't anticipate such a strong reaction.

Julian, realising his intense response, he forcefully relaxed his shoulders and flexed his fingers to release tension. "Sorry, Garak. It's a sore point for me. On Earth, Remnants have a reputation for being excellent lovers, which is true. Our sexual mores haven’t always aligned with the often-restrictive norms of Earth. Our approach to intimacy tends to be freer and more adventurous, focused on mutual respect and healthy exploration," explained Julian, his frown fierce. “However, because we won't reveal our reproductive practices and we can blend in seamlessly with unmodified humans, people paradoxically painted us with a predatory brush. Unfortunately, society hasn’t always been receptive of us, and the Federation, influenced by its limited understanding of Remnant society and past events like the Eugenics War, unjustly stigmatises us.”

Garak, now more aware of the complex background, was careful to school his features to not show his amusem*nt at the ‘excellent lovers’ comment. “No need to apologise, my dear. It was just my poor excuse for humour,” he said. Garak was once again surprised at the apparent freedom with which Julian spoke about Remnants.

‘Julian had just mentioned the Remnants society and their leader the Prime in the call before dinner, so freely’, Garak thought. He was bewildered by the Remnants society. He couldn’t understand if the mysteries of the Remnants society were such a guarded secret, how someone as young, inexperienced, and indiscreet as Julian was allowed to wonder around the quadrant. It wasn’t that long ago the Cardassia was at war with the Federation. ‘Ancestors, Cardassia violently occupied Bajor, and only recently relinquished its’s claim on the Bajoran System. Didn’t Julian understand how much danger he was in? How could he trust so freely?’ Garak wondered. A similar situation absolutely would not be allowed by the Cardassian government or military.

“Oh dear, I seem to be making a mess of this date,” exclaimed Julian, a slight downturn to his mouth, as Julian rubbed his forehead, before resting his head tiredly in his hand. “I had hoped to, to well charm you or at least dazzle you with my intelligence”.

“My dear I can assure you that I am entirely charmed,” Garak said gallantly. Garak watched Julian carefully, pleased to see his words had the desired effect, when Julian straightened in his seat. “We are just getting to know one another. Miscommunication is to be expected. Why don’t we start again?”

Julian perked up and smiled thankfully, “yes, let’s start again... Good evening, Garak, I hope your day wasn’t to upset with the station’s repositioning?” Julian gamely asked.

“Alas, sewing is not conducive with the station hopping about the solar system,” Garak lamented, with a gentle shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders.

“I can assure you doctoring was no easier,” Julian sighed.

Just then a server appeared at their table, placing their meals in front of the two men. Aromatic steam rose from the scooped bowls, containing a rich white stew. The server then placed a plate of crusty sliced bread, with Bajoran butter and then a carafe of white wine. “Do you want me to pour the wine?” the waiter asked courteously.

“No, thank you,” Julian replied.

Once again, the two men found themselves in a moment of privacy. Julian's face lit up with a smile as he turned his attention to Garak, his eyes reflecting genuine curiosity and eagerness. Leaning forward slightly, he inhaled the rich aroma of the stew before savouring a spoonful of the delicious concoction. With an observant gaze fixed on Garak's face, Julian awaited the Cardassian's own experience with the savoury creation, relishing each flavourful bite.

Observing Garak with keen interest, Julian patiently waited for the Cardassian to indulge in the dish. "Well, is it better than the Replimat’s?" Julian inquired, a playful glint evident in his eyes.

Garak, showcasing his refined taste, considered the question with a momentary pause before responding, "Considerably better. There is always a subtle improvement between freshly prepared food and replicated fare. Don’t you think so?" The subtle playfulness in Garak's tone echoed the nuances of the flavours they were enjoying.

Julian leans forward, with a mischievous look on his face. "I have a secret to confess,” Julian grins conspiratorially, as if about to reveal a carefully guarded mystery. "When I was at the academy, I was good friends with an engineering student who was utterly obsessed with replicators. They were determined to perfect numerous replicator programmes. They even won competitions with their exquisite dishes. This is to say that I was bestowed with these programmes on graduation from the Academy”.

Garak, ever curious, wore a thoughtful expression as he asked, “and are they superior to what we have on the station?”

With a sheepish look, Julian confessed, "Unfortunately I have yet been able to calibrate the replicators to the required specifications for reproducing their results. But Flix has sent me detailed instructions and with my superior understanding I am confident I will have the system calibrated very soon”.

Garak observed the look of supreme confidence that Julian displayed. Suppressing a sigh, he had forgotten ‘how, how exhausting and arrogant the young could be!’

As the minutes passed, Garak began noticing that Julian looked more and more refreshed. He hardly looked tired now at all. His vitality had returned to his features.

Garak couldn’t help but squint at the man. Had there been dark circles under Julian's eyes when they had first met? Perhaps the lighting has changed in here?” he wondered turning his head to look about the room. The lighting in the restaurant was relaxing, not as bright as it tended to be in other areas of the station. But he didn’t think it had changed.

“Garak?” Julian called, breaking Garak's contemplation. A slight frown creased his brow. “Are you all, right?”

“Sorry my dear, I was just wondering if the lighting had changed in here,” Garak apologised.

Julian cast his eyes around the room, taking in the dim light, the soft spotlights highlighting each occupied table. The hum of intimate conversation drifted over them. Julian also noted that the restaurant was three degrees warmer than station norm. “I don’t think any of the environmental controls have changed since we entered,” Julian informed Garak.

Glancing around again, examining the decor, and the subtle shift in colours from red to blue, as well as some interesting geometric patterns. It reminded Julian of the question he had wanted to ask Garak about Cardassian eyesight.

“Oh, I wanted to ask you about that. I have noticed around the station standard colour motif of red and blue, sometimes equally dispersed, other times concentrated on one colour. I wanted to ask you about the symbolism?” Julian excitedly asked Garak.

Garak just blinked at Julian, startled.

“I had speculated that they are directional guides as it were. I however have not been all over the station, so have yet to fully decode the meaning of the colour shifts and patterns,” Julian happily explains and then waits for Garak’s reply with a patient demeanour.

“You can see the colour shifts?” Garak asks for clarification, looking slightly dismayed at the information Julian was carelessly revealing with his question, about Remnant abilities.

“Oh yes. Remnants have superior vision, in acuity, motion detection and frequency recognition,” said Julian boldly, seemingly unconcerned about who might overhear.

Garak was frankly horrified!

“My dear Julian, some advice from an old Cardassian. You must be more careful; you don’t know who could be listening. I am the soul of discretion of course, but you are new to the Station, and you don’t know who you can trust,” Garak gently warned him.

The more time Garak spent with Julian, the more he doubted the moniker of ‘super soldier’ applied to all Remnants. Surely no well-run organisation would let Julian out of their control. He was confused by the contradictory reports he had heard about the Remnants. Yet Julian acted free as a bird, as he had not a concern in the world. There were hints that he did have some self-preservation instincts. He did after all inform Commander Sisko of Garak’s interest.

Garak looked at Julian, still bewildered by his character. Julian just looked at Garak innocently.

Julian scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Seriously Garak, I don’t see the harm. After all everyone on the station already knows I am a super soldier. I would hardly be very ‘super’ if I didn’t have super senses too.”

Garak's mind churned with conflicting thoughts. Experiencing concern for a near stranger was an unfamiliar and disconcerting sensation. He engaged in an internal debate, questioning whether he should still exploit Julian to gather information about the Remnants. He scoffed at himself, wondering, 'What has become of me? Feeling compassion for a near stranger'. A decade ago, he would have had no qualms about leveraging Julian's naivety. 'But perhaps,' he pondered, 'I could assist Julian in developing greater awareness, cultivating skills that would benefit him'. It struck him as a potential trade-off, a clandestine arrangement that Julian need not be aware of. 'Yes,' he concluded, 'I could aid this young man in navigating the challenges of the frontier’.

Garak was relieved that he had come up with a plan to salve his conscience. Garak took another spoon of the stew. It truly was delicious. Maybe if he proceeded in a straightforward manner, Julian would readily agree, he did seem arrogant enough.

“I have decided to take you under my wing. You are far too innocent to be out here in the Galaxy by yourself,” Garak informed Julian.

“Really? You're going to train me as a spy?" exclaimed Julian, vibrating with excitement. "This will be amazing Garak, thank you! In return I can share human culture with you,” Julian enthused.

Julian was wreathed in smiles, his hazel eyes seemed to glitter with, dare Garak say it, a warmth bordering on devotion. Julian laughed freely.

Eventually Julian, calmed himself. He hoped to make progress with Garak that night, but hadn’t expected that he would fall so completely under his spell. Julian hoped that Garak had enough appreciation for his craft that when he discovered that Julian had played him. That he would be sanguine over the universal law, ‘That no matter how good you think you are, there’s always someone better’.

Garak was already regretting saying anything to the young man. “What foolish notions you have. I have never been a spy. But I am an older gentleman of the world, I have seen much of the galaxy and can guide a young man around the possible pitfalls. Really you must be more circ*mspect about your abilities, they are your advantages. You shouldn’t just give them away to your enemies,” Garak sternly said. Before Julian could reply Garak held up a silencing finger. “That includes me”.

Julian beamed at Garak. “Oh Garak, I know everything I need to know about you. I am an excellent judge of character. I will try to be more discreet about being a Remnant. I suppose it’s because I am so far away from Earth out here. And well, I am the most dangerous person on the station,” Julian declared, sweeping his arms out as if to encompass the entire station.

Unfortunately, his hand knocked his wine glass off the table during this grand gesture, sending it flying across the room.

Julian truly looked comical, eyes huge, mouth frozen in an ‘oh’, as they both swivelled their heads to follow the projection of the wine glass sailing in a perfect arc across the room until it bounced off a bulkhead, spilling its contents of the glass across the floor.

The waiter rushed over to see what had happened, he looked dismayed as he saw the spreading puddle of wine. The soft whir of a squat cleaning robot appeared from an opening in the bulkhead to suck up the wine and polish the floor.

“I am so sorry! I got carried away,” Julian apologised to the waiter, looking particularly flushed in the cheeks.

“I am sorry Garak. I was very pleased with your proposal,” Julian said his exuberance dampened.

The waiter returned, setting a clean glass in front of Julian, along with giving him an admonishing look.

“It really has been a fraught day,” Julian smiled. “But I am very glad I am spending this evening with you”.

Julian dipped his head, and Garak couldn’t get a clear look at his eyes. “I am pleased that you are excited to be my friend. I don’t think I have ever met anyone who was so enthusiastic about me,” Garak said charmingly.

“Excellent, I will call in tomorrow and give you a copy of one of my favourite graphic novels. It’s based during the Eugenics war. It was one of the few graphic novels that portray Remnants as well, well realistically. It's about a Remnant and a human going undercover to infiltrate Khan’s base. Lots of spy craft,” Julian said, eagerly leaning forward. “You’ll find you will hardly have to teach me anything about being a spy. I have already picked up a lot,” Julian explained.

Garak felt a headache coming on and tried not to let his eye twitch. ‘Ancestors, what have I done?’

“At the academy I was known for creating some of the best Spy holo-programs. Probably because I am a Remnant and it comes naturally to me,” Julian confided, utterly confident in his abilities. He turned his attention to the bread on the table, scraping a generous amount of butter across the surface.

“This is delicious,” Julian commented, turning his attention back to his meal. ‘This date had gone better than he could have dreamed of’ Julian thought. He had wanted to laugh multiple times during the meal. The looks of shock and horror he had garnered from Garak were just delightful. He hadn't expected Garak to take him under his wing.

“Julian my dear, what exactly is a ... graphic novel?” Garak asked.

Julian smiled broadly at the Cardassian, Garak was holding his face particularly still, there was a tension to his features, as if he was exerting his will over his external expression. ‘It’s commendable, how much physical control he has over himself. It indicated years of training,’ Julian contemplated as he carefully observed his dinner companion. Julian would know after all, he had trained and practised that very same skill himself. Of course, Julian also had to contend with learning a whole new body once he had fully awakened.

“It’s a wonderful art form, that combines images with the written word, to tell a complete story,” Julian enthused, ‘yes I think that was a twitch in the left eye’, oh, this is fun. “It has a rich history on earth, stretching back hundreds of years and covering multiple genres,” Julian ensures to give Garak a particularly besotted smile. “There’s thousands of titles to explore, from different regions on earth,” said Julian.

“How delightful,” Garak said, ‘thousands of titles’ he thought dejectedly, while absently rubbing an eye ridge.

Julian, with a slight furrow to his brow, leaned forwards, peering into Garak’s face. “Do you have a headache? I can get you an analgesic from the replicator if you require it?” Julian gently enquires, reaching out his hand, to gently touch the back of Garak’s.

Garak quickly brings his hand down and covers Julian’s warm hand. “How kind my dear. Alas I am more tired than I realised. We haven’t looked at the dessert menu yet. Or a drink maybe?” Garak reassured Julian.

“A drink might...”

It was at this moment that a bright light outside the observation window caught his notice. Julian turned his full attention to the strange phenomenon.

From their vantage point the two men could see the blue light spiral and coalesce into a giant whirlpool. Light and energy pouring out into the local space of Deep Space Nine.

“What is that?” Garak whispered in wonder.

A stone of dread felt like it was lodged in the pit of Julian’s stomach. Julian’s intelligent mind rapidly pieced together the events of the day, the station unexpectedly moving, now this phenomenon in space. It could only mean one thing!

Julian couldn’t contain himself from the shock. He jumped up from his seat. The chair scooting away from him at the sudden movement. Startling several patrons of the restaurant close by. Julian turned fully towards the window and rested his hand against the cool Plexi-glass, just as a Star Fleet runabout appeared from its blue maw.

“f*ck MY LIFE!”

Chapter 7: A Stable Wormhole

Chapter Text

Julian’s Quarters

Julian rushed into his quarters, the door swishing shut behind him. The ambient lighting within the room was low, casting shadows on the sparse, tastefully arranged furniture. His date with Garak had ended in disaster after Julian's outburst, leading to their prompt exit from the once-intimate restaurant.

Despite the setback, Julian managed to salvage part of their evening, persuading Garak to accompany him to Quark's for a drink. The Cardassian, intrigued by the prospect of uncovering more of Julian's secrets, agreed.

In his agitated state, Julian approached the bar and ordered the strongest drink Quark had to offer—a disgusting Ferengi brandy, its flavour an unpleasant cross between aniseed, anchovy, and mushroom essence. The vile concoction managed to momentarily pause Julian's twenty-minute rant about the newfound wormhole and the impending doom he believed it would bring to the Alpha Quadrant.

Quark was happy to share what he had heard about the wormhole. One, that it was stable, as Julian had suspected from the moment, he saw it. Two, that the reason that the station had moved was to protect it from a Cardassian Cruiser from claiming it for the Cardassian Empire. Garak looked especially shocked at this piece of news. From the look on his face, it was obvious that he had not known that there was a Cardassian presence in the Bajoran solar system.

Garak, looking more bemused than concerned, weathered the storm of Julian's passionate tirade. As the intensity subsided, Julian found himself embarrassed, succumbing to the effects of the unpleasant drink, headed to the nearby facilities to vomit. Sometimes, even for a Remnant the most efficient way of getting a toxic substance out of his stomach, was via the route it entered.

It was one of the unfortunate side effects of being reborn, infrequent yet, intense emotional reactions. It could take as long as twenty years to fully stabilise emotionally into your new body. Julian Was halfway through the process and had at least another ten years to go.

Julian was old, very old indeed. He had gained mastery over his physiology many years before, in fact this control was the means of going through the process of rebirth. But his current body was now physically 27 years old. And frankly the emotions of a young man’s body, ‘were a bitch'. Though technically his old persona and experiences had now fully merged with his new childhood memories and personality, tonight's emotional outburst served as a reminder that the assimilation wasn't always seamless, or complete.

After his bout of nausea at the bar, Julian moved to his replicator, ordering a jug of ice-cold water. Wanting to rid his mouth of the foul taste of vomit. Returning to his computer console, he sank into his chair, ready to check the security feed to ensure no prying eyes were trained on his private quarters.

As he took a long, refreshing drink of water, Julian reflected on the revolting taste of the Ferengi brandy. It ranked among the worst he had ever encountered—a testament to the variety of unpleasant concoctions he had consumed over his long, complicated life. He remembered Erik giving him his first taste of Rakfisk, fermented fish from Norway. The vivid memory of his dear friend laughing at Julian as he ate the fish dish, relieved some of stress Julian was feeling. ‘Maybe the brandy wasn’t the most disgusting thing to go in his mouth', Julian thought with a brief grin.

Julian sighed, all humour draining from his countenance. A stable wormhole changed everything!

With Julian being a fulcrum point in time, it could only mean one thing. WAR!

Maybe not immediately, but Julian estimated in the next five years. Julian leant forward resting his head in his hand, elbows on his desk. He needed advice. There was only one person in the galaxy who could give it.

He checked the security feed and then set-up a feed back loop of him sleeping, which he had pre-recorded, the full six hours. It will kick in if any of his detection programs sense the security feed turning on. He has even devised a mechanism to fool the sensors to detect his presence in the room. As long as no one enters the room, central command will think he is exactly where he is supposed to be.

Taking a final drink of the cold water, making sure he was calm and fully in his wits for what he was about to do. He was ready.

He entered his bed chamber, once the door had slid shut behind him with a ‘shinck’, Julian went to the wall panel and made sure that the door was locked and not even a medical override could open it.

Julian closed his eyes, took a deep breath, let the air rush out of his lungs, out through his nose. One, two, three, breaths. Julian listened to the rhythm of his heart and the flow of air, centring himself in the moment.

The Remnants had stumbled upon a truly astonishing discovery approximately 140 years ago. Utilising their advanced data network system that allowed them to talk directly with any Remnant in the galaxy that had the correct key. Their scientists had found a way to create a doorway connecting any two Remnants in the galaxy, using this same quantum network they already used for communication.

This extraordinary development allowed them to traverse between these two locations in a mere five seconds, provided they possessed the correct key. Remarkably, the travel time remained constant, regardless of the distance between Remnants. The primary limitation was the accumulated power derived from the Remnants' lengthy existence, as the door was fuelled by their quantum life force.

Julian extended his hand, fingers splayed, and pressed his palm flat against the centre of the door. The cool surface greeted his touch, its smooth texture soothing under his fingertips. A soft, blue-white light emanated from Julian's hand, seeming to energise an otherwise invisible circuit embedded in the door. The energy pulsed outward from him as he focused on his destination in the vast galaxy, contemplating the individual he longed to see.

The scent of ozone filled the air. The energy flowing from Julian was an exquisite balance between pain and pleasure. It felt like his very blood buzzed, as Julian controlled the power at his disposal, to generate the portal.

In an instant, a portal materialised, a shimmering gateway connecting disparate points in space. The sudden emergence of the doorway held an air of magic, a manifestation of Julian's quantum life-force, materialising into a tangible connection across the Alpha Quadrant.

While a seasoned Remnant like Julian, could independently journey through the doorway, a younger counterpart required another Remnant to empower the process. This unique method of instantaneous travel, akin to a cosmic portal, marked a revolutionary advancement in their capabilities. It became both a thrilling experience and a testament to the Remnants' mastery of quantum mechanics and their ability to manipulate the fundamental forces of the universe. This was also one of their closest held secrets.

The Remnants found this form of travel to be exhilarating, like being on the universes largest rollercoaster, making the Remnants stomach flip, spinning, and twisting their bodies like some universal constant is trying to use their forms to make a pretzel. Unfortunately, they soon discovered that this was not a form of travel that humans enjoyed or particularly tolerated.

A watcher scientist had volunteered to go through the door. The experience was so traumatic for the watcher, that when he appeared through the other side of the portal, he had a massive heart attack, and it was only that there was advanced 23rd Century medicine immediately available that saved his life. After that experience the Prime had prohibited any of their watcher friends and colleagues from using the doorways until they had found a safe way for them to do so.

Experiments were ongoing. So far the only way for humans to travel through was to be sedated first, it was still stressful, but not life threatening.

Opening his eyes Julian looked at the shimmering portal before him. For some reason, it was easier to form portals using existing doorways, it somehow focused the minds-eye, giving the opening a defined shape.

The portal glistened and moved, if alive, reflecting the low light in strange ways, reacting with the energy Julian had poured into it.

Giving an instinctive look around his room, to ensure he was not being observed.

Julian stepped through the doorway.

The portal snapped shut behind him, leaving a normal door in its place. The bedroom, silent and empty. Leaving Julian’s childhood bear, the only witness.

Chapter 8: Old Friend

Chapter Text

Garak’s Quarters

Garak tossed and turned in his bed, the sheets becoming more tangled with each movement. Garak opened his eyes with a sigh, “lights,” he commanded. The lights snapped on to his preferred low light level. The soothing low yellow light bathed the room in shadows.

Garak sat up with annoyance, throwing back the warm blankets and sheets covering his bed, to free his legs, as he moved to sit on the side of the bed.

He just couldn’t sleep, ‘perhaps a soothing cup of tea,' Garak thought. Standing from the bed he grabbed his fleece lined dressing gown, patterned in a blue brocade. Garak was even stylish in his sleep attire, no need to lower his standards for sleeping.

Shuffling his feet into his fur lined slippers, Garak flexed his toes, enjoying the comfort and warmth the sleep provided. Garak had programmed his environmental controls to follow the rhythm of Cardassia Prime, to aid in refreshing sleep. This meant that his quarters were 15C cooler when he was meant to be sleeping.

Garak enjoyed the luxury of snuggling down under his warm blankets in bed. He didn’t have the happiest of childhoods, with his unique parentage. But when he was a child, his mother ensured his bed was comfortable and warm. Most nights as he prepared to sleep, he spared a kind thought for his mother.

Walking into the living quarters, he turned on a warming lamp, situated ideally by Garak’s favourite chair. He went over to the replicator and ordered red leaf tea, hot. Taking his cup to his chair, he got comfortable under the heat lamp and picked up his private and most important, encrypted pad and opened his 'Remnant File’.

He couldn’t stop thinking of the puzzle that was Julian.

So free, so open. Completely contradictory to the information Tain had gathered about the Remnants during the Cardassian/Federation war.

All active Obsidian order agents, where all versed in the details that they had on the Remnants and that they were to take any opportunity presented to gather more information, or an actual subject if the opportunity presented itself.

They were reported to be ruthless, cunning, intelligent, and impossible to kill or apprehend.

As far as Garak knew, he was the only agent to encounter a Remnant and still be alive to tell the tale. Even in the few short weeks that Julian had been aboard, Garak had already learnt about their enhanced eyesight and that Julian could easily see Cardassian colour markers, which normal humans could not.

Not only that, but Julian had also already told him of some aspects of Remnant society, that a cunning foe could exploit.

Julian’s supreme confidence in his abilities, were a weakness. He seemed to believe that just because he was a ‘genetically engineered super soldier’, this somehow magically imbued Julian with skills of a soldier or spy, just by existing alone.

Garak thought back to the wineglass incident at dinner and shook his head. Julian had a deplorable lack of spatial awareness. He didn’t seem to grasp that even if his genetics gave him advantages over average humans, that he still needed to train and practice to gain any true skill or mastery.

Yet Julian seemed to genuinely believe that he was the most dangerous being on the station. Which was frankly laughable. ‘He was about as dangerous as a, a Tribble!' Garak snorted at the thought. It appeared to Garak, that Julian had imbibed the prejudices and biases of the Federation, regarding the dangerousness of Remnants.

But some of the stories must be true. The Obsidian Order had possessed historical accounts of the Eugenics war and Remnants were a key component of defeating Khan and his augment army. They must be dangerous! Even Tain, with all of his cunning and ruthlessness wasn’t able to garner any first-hand evidence of Remnants.

But then there was excitable, innocent, arrogant Julian Bashir. Undoubtable intelligent, his Star Fleet and Medical records proved this. But how could Garak compromise these two disparate images of Remnants.

Garak sighed over the quandary Julian presented and took a sip of his soothing tea, as he rested his head against the back of his chair, relaxing as he contemplated the mystery that was Doctor Julian Bashir.

Garak jotted down his hypothesis in his Remnant file:

1. Youth: Julian was considered too young to be trained in the Remnant’s more martial ways.
2. Remnant society was stratified, like Cardassia, and Julian wasn’t part of the military caste. This seemed like a natural conclusion to Garak. But he was aware of his own biases and was careful not to jump to this conclusion.
3. Remnant society wasn’t structured at all, and Remnants just lived longer than usual human lives, unless discovered to be a Remnant. Garak spent some time thinking of this option. He knew that there was no reliable way of identifying Remnants. What happened if a Remnant was never identified. They must know themselves that they were Remnant’s, right? Julian’s stepfather had revealed Julian’s secret, so that must mean that Richard had been aware that his wife’s child was a Remnant. This led to the conclusion that Julian’s mother was an active participant of giving birth to a Remnant child.
4. Because of Julian’s stepfather: Julian was considered more of a security risk? And simple was kept in the dark?

It was difficult being outside of the Federation to get all the information required to make a full analysis of the situation. But from the limited information Garak was able to gather, it appeared that Julian was the youngest known Remnant on record. He was only 17 when he had been discovered. Was this it? The Remnants viewed him as vulnerable.

But that didn’t make much sense either, as it was clear, even from only a brief acquaintance, that Julian did have some knowledge of Remnant society, he had mentioned the prejudice he had experience because of being a Remnant.

It was obvious that Julian felt frustrated over the way his fellow officers treated him as a dangerous risk, and kept pertinent information from him, like the existence of a wormhole in Bajoran space.

‘For ancestor’s sake, Quark had known all about the wormhole. How could Sisko think that keeping Julian in the Dark about such an important discovery was a security risk, when the biggest gossip on the station had known. This wouldn’t foster trust or loyalty in Julian’. Garak just didn’t know what Sisko was trying to achieve with his rejection of Julian.

It was a confusing puzzle. Made more complicated by Julian’s extreme reaction to the wormhole and his certainty that this spelt out some unknown catastrophe that would befall them all. Julian was quite frantic about it, exposing his extreme youth in the moment.

Garak continued to sip his cooling tea, while he wrote down all his jumbled thoughts when it came to the Remnant. Hoping the act of committing his meditations on Julian to his notes, that this would allow his mind to settle, and he could sleep at last.

At least with Sisko’s neglect it opened up the possibility of Garak developing a relationship with Julian.

Though this too was proving to be problematic.

Garak hadn’t expected to feel attraction to his subject. He had never been drawn to vulnerability before, preferring experience and a certain pragmatism of character that spoke of self-sufficiency.

Deep down Garak knew this preference was borne of his fear of attachment, bred by his callus father, his dominant role model growing up.

Julian did smell delectable, and he physically emanated a pleasing warmth. The more he got to know the man, the more delightful his open face became. There was a promise of softness in Julian’s embrace, that was proving to be intriguing to Garak. A thrill in the way Julian looked at him. He shook his head ruefully, not understanding why he felt this inexplicable pull to the other man.

At last, he had written all he could on the matter. He saved his file and put his pad away.

Standing from his chair he stretched and flexed, preparing to try sleeping again.

He put his empty teacup back in to the replicator and recycled it.

Walking back to his bedroom, he quickly straightened the sheets and blankets, that his earlier tossing and turning had disturbed. He carefully hung up his dressing gown and slipped off his warm slippers.

Turning back the covers, he crawled into bed. He pulled up the covers to under his chin and squirmed in the bed to find a comfortable position. “Lights out,” he commanded. The room was plunged into darkness, except for a gentle red night light he enjoyed sometimes.

He rested his hands on his stomach and followed a simple breathing exercise to promote peaceful sleep.

At last Garak drifted off to sleep.

Old Friend

Julian stepped into a room, it looked like it was part of a wood cabin, the luxury sort. There was a plush rug before a raging fire in the stone fireplace, the beautiful stonework narrowed into a chimney breast and disappeared through the ceiling above. Julian wondered if there was another room above this one.

“Beer?”

Julian turned towards the question. Ben, the Remnant Prime stood in front of another door holding out a brown bottle, condensation beading on the outside of the glass, his stance relaxed. He held a second bottle of beer in his other hand. For himself no doubt.

Julian sighed in relief as the sight of his dear old friend. Smiling, he reached out and took the offered beer. Julian immediately brought the bottle neck to his lips and took a thankful drink. The Beer was cold and went down smooth, with an undertone of nuts to the flavour. Julian took another drink. Finally feeling some of the stress leave his body.

"Come, have a seat," Ben invited, gesturing towards one of the large brown leather chairs arranged in front of the crackling fireplace. Adorned with large, patterned cushions, the chairs promised both comfort and warmth in the cozy setting.

Gratefully Julian sank into the plush chair and momentarily lent his head back against the seat. He held the cold bottle to his forehead, enjoying the cold feeling, continuing to let the tension drain from his body. It was always easier to do this in the Primes presence.

Julian was also able to let his shields down, someone as old as Julian had very good control and could do it now at a sub-conscious level. But it still required a little attention, a little tension. That when he could drop them it was delicious.

The shields were crucial to contain his quantum life force, a skill that all Remnants needed to master. As they grew older, their quantum life force held more power. It reached a point where even humans could sense it, reported by the Watchers as a creeping feeling, akin to someone walking over their grave. It was the sensation of prey being watched by a predator, enough to unsettle and disturb them.

A Vulcan, a xeno-historian who had joined the Watcher organization 70 years ago, once reported that the experience was highly uncomfortable. For most aliens, it brought about a sense of unease and discomfort. However, intriguingly, Klingons described it as a most invigorating sensation, highlighting the diverse reactions across different species.

Remnants weren't telepaths or empaths in the conventional sense, but their life force possessed a unique ability to sense the presence of others of their kind. It was as if their life force extended tendrils, reaching out to connect with others who shared the same essence. Explaining this phenomenon to humans was challenging, and Julian often compared it to echolocation. With practice, Remnants could identify individuals based solely on their life force, even without a direct line of sight. It was a subtle and intricate connection that bound them together.Top of Form

Their philosophers theorised that it increased unit cohesion when in battle, it certainly enabled more creative strategies, when you knew exactly where all your comrades were. The Primes, the de facto generals of the Remnants when they united to fight a foe could even communicate directly with the other Remnants. But this was basically a communicator in everyone’s head, that Ben could tap into. It was based on quantum technology and how the Remnants scientists had come up with the Quantum communication network that they put into operation across the quadrant.

“So, you wanted to talk to me?” asked Ben, in his warm light voice.

“You look so different,” Julian said avoiding the question.

It was indeed true—Ben was ancient, a staggering 10,361 years old. The mastery he had achieved over his quantum life force allowed him to perform incredible feats. Perhaps the most astonishing among them was the ability to give the appearance of growing old. His face bore the marks of wisdom and experience, exhibiting a distinguished look, rather than the harshness that often accompanies a challenging life. Well-defined crow's feet crinkled at the corners of his eyes, and his hair and beard displayed a salt-and-pepper colour. To the observer, he looked remarkably good, and most people would likely estimate his age to be in his late sixties. It was a testament to the remarkable control Remnants had over the physical manifestations of aging.

Julian shook his head. “I just can’t get over it, you look amazing,” Julian said with another shake of the head.

“I know, I’ll show you the best part, look at this,” Ben said with a co*cky grin. Ben reached down, caught the edge of his t-shirt, and pulled it up showing Julian his little pot belly. “I have a beer belly,” Ben said with apparent pride.

“Wow, how did you manage that? Will you let me scan you?” Julian asked eagerly, leaning in for a closer look. The Remnants usually appeared in peak physical condition, no matter their body type. Julian didn’t have to do any exercise or dieting, yet he had well defined muscles, including a six-pack.

“It’s just cosmetic, you know. If I wanted to, I could go to sleep, and wake up looking twenty-seven again,” Ben reminded Julian. “Or with a little effort eighteen.”

Julian grimaced at that idea. “I don’t know, eighteen wasn’t that great,” Julian commented unconvinced that would be a good idea. Remembering his recent teenage years.

Julian suddenly laughed as he realised, he was feeling envy towards his old friend, because he had a ‘dad bod and crow’s feet’. To physically change your appearance was the hardest skill a Remnant could acquire. Julian had managed it through the risky rebirth procedure. But Ben could manipulate his quantum life force to look different and maintain it for years too, not even thinking of the sophistication it would take to make it look like you were aging naturally.

‘Wow, just wow!’

Ben took a sip of his own beer, lent back in his chair, and propped his feet up on an old coffee table, looking relaxed. “Now I know you didn’t come all this way to talk about my good looks,” Ben said with a sardonic lift of an eyebrow.

Julian drained the last of his beer and left the empty bottle beside his chair. He slumped back and quietly looked at Ben. Ben looked as relaxed and chill as he always did. Ben just looked back, waiting, he was very good at silence.

The fire danced and roared in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows through the room, the warmth was comforting. Julian could faintly hear rain drumming on windows in the next room. ‘Huh! We have the same eye colour now,’ the stray thought struck Julian unexpectedly. Genetics, especially phenotypes were weird in Remnants.

“There’s a stable wormhole in the Bajoran solar system,” Julian said.

“Ahhh!”

Ben finishes his beer and stands from his chair, “another Beer?” Ben asks.

Julian nods in acceptance and Ben quietly walks from the room, through the doorway Julian saw when he first arrived.

Julian rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hands, the distant sound of cupboards opening drifting in from the next room. Ben was always this way, relaxed, never rushed. It took people a long time to understand Ben, they often underestimated him to their detriment. Luckily Julian had known Ben for a very long time, since he was twenty-seven years old the first time around. When he had apparently died by poison and was buried. Ben had literally dug him up, it’s a shocking thing, first death, especially if you didn’t know you were a Remnant. Ben had helped and trained him after that traumatic experience.

“Here”.

Julian blinked open his eyes, to see a new beer bottle directly in his face. “Thanks,” Julian said as he took the bottle. Ben sat back in his chair and in moments he looked as comfortable as he had before he moved.

“So why all the panic about the wormhole?” Ben softly asked as he drunk his beer.

“You know why!” Julian said more loudly and angrily then he expected.

Ben simply widened his eyes at Julian's reaction, leaving Julian to wonder about the underlying cause for such a response. The tension in the air was palpable, and Julian struggled to contain the emotions swirling within him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Julian apologised. He changed position in his seat leaning forward now, elbows resting on his knees. The bottle held loosely between two fingers, balancing really by the lip of the bottle, gently swinging. Julian was almost hypnotised by the gently rhythmic motion.

“You know I am a fulcrum point. With the sudden appearance of a stable wormhole, this means there is going to be a war. When exactly I don’t know. With whom, who can say, it will either be a force from this side fighting over a perceived limited resource. Or aliens from the Gamma Quadrant, fighting for whatever is important to them,” Julian said. He had started his explanation calmly, but he could feel the tension build within him as he spoke.

“You have lived through wars before, hell you have led armies in to battle. What is the problem, exactly?”

Turning his head so he could look at Ben, Julian's open expression, on full display, all the anguish in his eyes evident. “I thought after the Eugenics War, with the advent of the Federation, that my fighting days were over,” Julian said, breaking eye contact, leaning back in his chair again, head twisted in Ben’s direction, so he could see his face.

“Really? You really thought that, after the Eugenics War?” Ben said with a shake of his head. It was clear to Julian that Ben didn’t believe him.

“Hoped,” Julian whispered.

Ben sighed, “My dear old friend, I seem to recall you saying the same thing after the Hundred Years war, the Great war and World War Two. You are an endless optimist, who’s hopes are disappointed time and again,” Ben said softly, his eyes showing understanding, his face softened in compassion.

“And I love you for it,” Ben said with a smile, leaning forward and offering a comforting squeeze of Julian's knee.

“The simple solution is you can just leave, at any time,” Ben offered.

“I can’t, I am in Star Fleet, I have patients and friends”, Julian protested, a hint of impatience about his demeanour.

“We both know you mean, you won’t leave,” Ben said.

Julian “huffed,” and lent back and crossed his arms, a scowl on his face. 'It was really annoying arguing with someone who had known you for nearly all your life,' Julian wasn’t ready to concede to Ben’s point. He took an angry swig of his beer.

Ben just sat comfortably in his chair, feet propped upon the oak coffee table and wiggled his toes in the warmth emanating from the fire in the hearth. Drinking his beer, enjoying his private thoughts.

“If there is a war, what about your rules?” Julian questioned.

“Julian, it’s the 24^th Century, I hardly think anyone will expect you to eat your enemies,” Ben said, a hint of a smile lingering around his mouth.

Julian let out a huff of a laugh. “Not that one,” Julian said with a mock glare, his mood suddenly lightened. “The don’t scare the mortals one?” Julian asked.

“Aah! That is a tricky one,” Ben agreed.

“I have been a soldier for a long time, fought in many wars, I will frighten the hell out of them if they can see what I can actually do, what we can do,” Julian said, his eyes serious now. Julian had personally seen men and women burned at the stake for being heretics. Julian had even been caught a time or two himself. Once he was put on trial for being a sorcerer. It was not always a blessing to have an ‘autobiographical memory’, Julian couldn’t supress the shudder that travelled through him from the fleeting memory.

It was important, vitally important, that the Federation didn’t go on a witch hunt for Remnants. The Remnants might have been designed for war, but they preferred peace. They were so small in numbers; their procreation was so difficult. A Remnant didn’t even become fertile until they were 1000 years old, and it took a lot of effort to have a child. The total population of Remnants were only slightly above 22,000. They were desperately vulnerable.

“Julian, we have the portals now, we have enough Remnants to power the network, if required, we can evacuate every one of our people,” Ben confided in Julian. “The watcher archive has been moved to a secure location; all the satellite stations can be destroyed at a moment’s notice. And I would say that any Remnant who has the power has their personal archive secured,” Ben said giving Julian a questioning look.

“Yeah! I have my own private archive,” Julian acknowledged with a shrug of the shoulders.

“I’ve never forbidden any Remnant from protecting their loved ones from danger,” Ben gently said.

“I know,” Julian said hanging his head, hand rubbing his forehead.

“I trust you. If you say an action was necessary, I will believe you,” Ben reassures Julian.

“I don’t know how far I should go, what I should reveal. It will cause us problems if I reveal too much. There will be many who are either afraid of us or those who are jealous and covetous of our abilities and technology,” Julian said looking Ben full in the face, looking for advice and guidance.

“Well, this is definitely a three-beer problem. Look, relax, I’ll get us another beer and some snacks, and we can hash this out,” Ben assured him, standing and stalking back out into the other room. Julian could hear the clink of glass bottles, and the opening and closing of cupboard doors. Julian blew out a breath of relief. Feeling restless, Julian stood from his chair and threw some extra logs on to the fire and gave it a stir with the poker to encourage the orange flames.

Julian looked around the room, the sound of Ben in the next room comforting. Julian was just admiring a painting hanging on the wall behind protective glass, he was trying to determine if it was an original Turner, ‘probably,' thought Julian, ‘Ben always had excellent taste,'.

Ben bustled back into the warm room, carrying a tray this time. He set it down on the table and set the bottles on the table, along with various nuts and crisps. “Are those M&M’s?” Julian asked with a hint of excitement.

“No, even better. Smarties,” Ben said happily.

“How? No, no, don’t tell me, Flix created the program for you?” Julian guessed.

Ben just grinned and moved a bowl of ‘Salt & Vinegar’ crisps closer to Julian, his favourite.

Julian popped a handful of crisps in his mouth, not caring if he got crumbs on Ben’s genuine Persian rug. Julian offered silent thanks to the Progenitors, Remnants could eat absolutely anything and stay in perfect health and fitness. A necessity in the harsh realities of the world a lot of the Remnants were born into. They needed calories to operate at peak efficiency, but they could survive without the food, it just wasn’t a very pleasant experience. Paradoxically they still felt hunger and thirst, even if they could survive months without food or water. A horrific experience, Julian had gotten lost once, in the Sahara Desert, when he was about 100 years old. Not an experience he ever wanted to repeat.

“So, let’s talk about Deep Space Nine,” Ben starts, popping smarties in his mouth.

Julian nods, he can hear the hard candy shells cracking from his seat.

“I take it you are going down the whole ‘Look at Me’ route, while on board?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, I went with the young, naïve, overly excitable but excellent doctor. A bit obnoxious, a bit annoying,” Julian explained.

“Right,” Ben said, nodding his head with a thoughtful look, “you can work with that,” Ben continued. Ben stroked his chin in thought, right thumb steady on his cheek, while the two first fingers of his hand stroked his chin and cheek absently.

“I think you need to garner the friendship of your peers; you estimated five years before an actual war breaks out?” Ben asks, to verify the timeline.

“By my experience five years, or there abouts. There will probably be some raids or other instigating incidents in the run-up to the outbreak of war. Pretty recognisable indicators if you know what to look out for,” Julian confidently states.

“Okay then, you have five years to bed into the station, the goal is to gain the respect of your fellow crew, where possible, they should like you too. The aim is that when war breaks out that they trust you. Consequently, if you need to act in a more explicit way, for instance, defend the crew or even evacuate the station, they will be invested in protecting you and your secrets. You need to be an ‘Us’ and not a ‘Them’ when the sh*t hits the fan,” Ben suggests, hazel eyes clear and focused.

“Yeah, yeah, I need to dial back the obnoxiousness and annoying characteristics and highlight my competence,” Julian said, demonstrating to Ben he understood the man’s reasoning. In truth if Julian just calmed down, he could have come to this conclusion by himself.

But really, he just wanted his friend to, ‘talk him off the ledge’. Julian continued to munch on the crisps, interspersing peanuts into the mix. Julian just sat there enjoying the quiet companionship of a friend who had known him through the good and bad times.

“The most important thing, the thing you must be most careful about, is not letting them rely on you, they need to be able to sort out their own problems. We can be part of the solution, just not THE SOLUTION,” Ben stated firmly. His face calm and serious.

This was the one line that Ben would not cross, and no other Remnant could cross it either. It was a slippery slope to damnation for everyone. The humans and all the other species in the Alpha Quadrant couldn’t see Remnants as the police officers of the galaxy or even worse the soldiers.

This had been one of the reasons that Ben had to put down the human’s betrayal after the Eugenics war so hard. Politicians saw what they could do and started to think of the Remnants as theirs, sort of like a tame tiger they could sick on the universe to do there underhand bidding.

Ben wasn’t going to put up with that. Ben had pretty much seen every permutation of government and dictator that the whole of history had to offer. He knew it would be a disaster for his people and he would not have it!

Julian in comparison to Ben was just a young whippersnapper. But by humans’ standards he was very old. He had enough of his own experiences to realise the truth in what Ben decreed, and absolutely supported his stance. All the really old Remnants, who had enough power to change the course of the war knew not to do it.

The younger ones, still full of passion, didn’t understand as they hadn’t experienced enough history, enough wars to clearly see the pitfalls that solving other peoples’ problems could cause. But they would learn in time. Luckily for Remnants, when they were young, they didn’t have the power to cause real trouble. By the time they had the power, they were old enough not to use it.

It was also one of the reasons why Ben never banned anyone from fighting for any cause that they deemed worthy. The young Remnants were brilliant soldiers, as they were designed to be. They were an asset to any army, nearly indestructible and they could adapt rapidly to any conditions. Letting them fight gave them the feeling of participating, that they were doing something.

They were less likely to frighten the mortals too. They were good, faster, and stronger, then their fellow soldiers, indefatigable too. But the difference wasn’t so great in the young Remnants, they’d garner a bit of envy from their comrades, but often the other soldiers were just happy they were on their side.

If they saw what someone Julian’s age could do, an unstoppable killing machine, who did not stop, or tire, no matter the apparent injury. They would have nightmares. On top of that Julian had centuries of experience. When it came to war and dirty tricks, there was probably nothing Julian had not seen or used before. Hell! he definitely invented some of the more devious strategies.

No if Julian needed to act, the people needed to trust him explicitly first, respect him as a doctor and officer. To know bone deep that Julian wouldn’t turn on them.

“You have more experience than nearly anyone else I know,” Ben began.

Julian raised a questioning eyebrow at the ‘nearly,’ wondering exactly, ‘who Ben was thinking off,’. They had a small society, Julian didn’t know everyone of course, but these were mainly the young Remnants, who outnumbered the ancient members of their society, through natural attrition. When he was a child he went to a human school, up until ‘Big Mouth Richard’ had exposed Julian. Subsequently, for the last year of formal education, he took at the Watcher Academy, where newly born Remnants went to school with the children of the watchers.

Their population was shaped like a pyramid, with Ben the last of the original Primes at the pinnacle. Julian knew that Ben had children who were thousands of years older than him. Julian knew his older brothers and sister, they were involved in wars throughout the ages, but not like Julian.

‘He must be thinking of one of the surviving children of one of the other Primes,’ Julian was so lost in thought he hadn’t realised he had a deep scowl on his face.

Ben started to guffaw at Julian’s grumpy face. “Seriously Julian don’t be jealous,” Ben struggled to say through the laughter.

“I am not jealous,” Julian protested with an indignant look on his face.

“You’re still my favourite,” Ben said, with a bright smile.

“Yeah, yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the others too,” Julian said with an eyeroll.

Ben just gives him an unrepentant look and a cheeky wink.

Julian couldn’t help himself and let out a little “huff,” of a laugh too.

“Are you feeling calmer now?” Ben warmly asked.

“Yes, it’s this 27-year-old body, my emotions can still be a bit screwy at times,” Julian explained in a resigned manner, shrugging his shoulders in a ‘what can I do,’ manner.

“Yeah, I heard that can happen,” Ben said, he had never been through the process, and he would never risk it either. Besides, Ben had the means to change his appearance as he pleased, so didn’t need to go through the procedure.

“Erm, you do realise that a Watcher will probably head out to the wormhole now,” Ben said apologetically.

“What, nooo!” whined Julian, practically throwing himself back in to his chair like a moody teenager. “Can’t you stop them,” pleaded Julian, with big puppy dog eyes.

“Sorry, no can do,” Ben said, before drinking more of his beer.

Julian narrowed his eyes, looking suspiciously at Ben, ‘he didn’t sound that sorry about the Watcher situation,’.

Ben just happily ate his smarties, giving Julian his own wide-eyed look.

“God I really hate Richard Bashir and his big mouth,” Julian raged.

Ben did look sympathetic now. It was unfortunate that Richard Bashir was so unreliable, poor Julian went through all the risk to get a new face, so he could experience some anonymity from the Watchers, and at 17 he was exposed by his stepfather. The only silver lining being that the Watcher’s hadn’t realised that Julian went through the rebirth process and didn’t know his former identity.

Ben reached over and patted Julian consolingly on the shoulder. “I’m really sorry about that. If I had known just how unreliable he was, I would have put the fear of me into him and he would have stayed quiet,” Ben said regretfully.

Julian reached up and held Ben’s arm, “I know, when I arranged with Amsha to be my surrogate mother, she was single. Who would have guessed she would end up with a man like Richard? Not me for sure,” Julian said with a resigned smile, thankful for the comfort Ben was offering.

‘But Watchers, eww! they are such a pain to deal with,’. “You do know I once had a 67-year-old Watcher scream in my face like a ‘Harry Styles fangirl’?” Julian asked, a pained look plain on his face from the unpleasant memory.

Ben had the good grace to at least wince at Julian’s recollection.

There were thousands of Remnants who lived quiet lives. The sort to visit Pompeii the week before Mount Vesuvius famously blew or went to see ‘Our American Cousin’ at Ford’s Theatre on the 13^th of April in 1865. But the poor unfortunate Fulcrum would just exit the Colosseum at the exact moment to see Brutus and his co-conspirators stab Julius Ceaser to death.

Julian had met that poor unfortunate soul, in a pub in Brighton and they had shared a commiserating pint together. He still remembered the story the other Remnant had told him about how he had inspired a young and upcoming poet from the countryside with his stories. The poet’s name was William Shakespear. He let out a little laugh thinking of the man, as he remembered he had gone on to tell him that he had just got a job as an assistant to a set designer called John Barry and he was heading to Morocco to work on some sci-fi film called ‘Star Wars’. The poor bastard. Sure, Julian had history buffs geeking out over him, but nothing compared to the persistence of rabid ‘Star Wars Fans’.

“Look nothing has happened out there yet, can you hold them off until the war actually starts, or at least for a couple of years so I can get established. All I need is for a Watcher to figure out who I was and blab and blow my cover,” Julian pleaded with Ben.

“Okay, I will subtly misdirect them for as long as I can. But I promised I wouldn’t interfere if they followed our rules,” Ben reluctantly explained. Ben had spent the last four hundred years creating a good relationship with the Watchers, ensuring that the Remnants and Watchers could exist together peacefully. That Watcher access to Remnants was a privilege not a right. But due to the structure of the organisation the Watchers did tend to be rather fanatical about their perceived duties and some, let’s say were somewhat over enthusiastic over their subjects.

It was why Ben had instigated a strict rule that only the most experienced watchers could interact with the Fulcrums, because hopefully by the time they built up the experience and credentials to work with them they would have acquired the professionalism to work respectfully with their subject. And if a particular fulcrum should disappear, then Watchers should accept that gracefully and back-off, knowing that they will eventually reappear again. Not necessarily in their lifetimes. But one day.

“Thank you, whatever you can do will be appreciated,” Julian states warmly, with a smile for Ben.

Ben suddenly gave Julian a suspiciously wide grin.

“Now tell me all about this Cardassian I hear you are courting?” Ben commanded, eagerly leaning forward to hear all the juicy gossip.

“Really Flix cannot keep anything to themself,” Julian said grumpily.

Ben just laughed heartily.

“So, spill, I want to hear all of the salacious details?” Ben asked with a grin and a friendly poke to Julian’s shoulder.

“There’s nothing to tell, we have only known each other for a few weeks,” Julian said.

“I hear a ‘yet’ in that statement,” Ben said, looking at expectantly.

Julian sighed in resignation; in fact, he wouldn’t mind talking to his old friend about Garak. “Okay. Garak is an Obsidian Order agent and thinks I am an innocent ingénue fresh from the academy, that he can exploit for my Remnant secrets,” Julian confessed.

Ben just laughed and clapped his hands in glee. “Ooh, young man to older spy, exciting”.

“Well, I thought the station was going to be a bit boring, I can’t be all work and no play, can I?”

“Go on,” Ben encouraged.

“Well, I spotted him the first day, just after I arrived. I thought he looked lonely and could do with a bit of excitement in his life,” Julian explained. “It’s fun playing innocent Remant, yet telling him at the same time just how dangerous I actually am. I want to see how long it takes for him to figure it out,” Julian couldn’t help smiling at Ben.

“Well, you did always like Cardassian’s. What was the name of that Cardassian you tortured with terrible Hallmark movies again?” Ben asked with a smirk, He was watching Julian carefully and notice the subtly look of uncomfortableness in his friend’s expression. “I saw that look, come on tell me,” Ben demanded.

Julian looking sheepish admitted that Garak and his former lover were father and son.

Ben howled with laughter. Julian thought Ben was going to fall out of his chair with how hard the other man laughed. Julian scowled annoyed at the other man.

“You better be careful,” Ben told him in a sing-song voice. “I once dated a brother and sister in Venice. Everything was love and passion, until they found out about each other,” Ben reminisced with a fond smile, looking at Julian with barely contained amusem*nt.

“What happened?” Julian asked curiously.

“Oh, the sister, Josephina, stabbed me in the heart in a jealous rage. But on the bright side I think it brought them closer together. Her brother Justin helped her dump my body in the Grand Canal,” Ben told Julian, with a sardonic twist to his lips.

If the injury is serious enough a Remnant can appear dead, even to modern standards of medicine. The quantum life force can take a while to heal a Remnants body, depending on age. Ben of course could have been revived almost instantaneously, but in 13^th century Venice it would be a bad idea, if you then didn’t want to be burned at the stake as a witch. Sometimes it is best to stay dead for a day or two.

“They have a strained relationship. Tain and Garak,” Julian explained. “Tain never realised I was a Remnant. I think Garak will be satisfied that he was smarter than his father in this at least”.

Ben frowned, “Isn’t Tain the head of the Obsidian Order?”

“Yes, at the moment,” Julian said.

“I take it you actually like this Cardassian?” Ben asked with a knowing look on his face. Ben was startled to see Julian blush like a teenager. “From the colour of your face that means yes,” Ben said.

“He’s fascinating,” Julian hotly defended his interest in Garak.

“Really your interest in Cardassian’s will get you in trouble one day,” Ben predicted. “I don’t know why you are so enchanted by ‘The Never Ending Sacrifice’, it is one of the most boring books I have ever read. I have been alive for a long time and have read a lot of books!” Ben said, looking at Julian with a shake of the head.

“It’s a fascinating treaty on Cardassia itself, it tells you everything you need to know about how Cardassian’s think and view their place in the greater universe,” Julian says with some heat to his declaration.

“That’s only because Cardassian’s haven’t had to live the cyclical nature of time. If they had to live all the lives portrayed in that epic, that wouldn’t look so favourable on the repetitive format the novel takes,” Ben states fervently.

“Yes, and I look forward to discussing that very topic with Garak,” Julian says with a defiant lift of the chin and determination in his eyes. Reaching out and scooping the last of the nuts from the little dish in front of him.

“Well, we will just have to agree to disagree on the finer points of Cardassian literature,” Ben shaking his head at the thought of Julian enjoying the fictitious efforts of Cardassian novelists.

Julian looked at his friend, sometimes there can be great enjoyment in disagreeing so much with an old friend. To flesh out arguments in safety. Knowing no matter what either of you said, it would not damage your friendship.

Julian grew serious again. “I did want to ask you about consent,” Julian ventured.

Ben felt very passionately about consent. The Progenitors had only created one hundred Primes. They felt that they had the time to build their army to fight there enemy. So, the Primes had entered a stage of intense training and education. They had been forced to procreate with women on a near monthly basis.

When the Primes had first awakened, they were as unformed as babies, purely driven by their hormones and instincts. They were already sexually mature and by utilising a form of semi-asexual reproduction, they could produce subsequent generations of soldiers for their creators, the Progenitors.

Where the male presenting of the population can undergo sporic meiosis, which could only be successfully implanted into a genetically modified human woman. Human females had a slight genetic modification, a recessive trait, that allowed her womb to accept the spore transferred from the Remnant through copulation. This spore then transitions into an embryo, but is not a true clone, as some of the genetical material from the modified human mother was incorporated to create the being’s unique phenotype and repair any damage that might have occurred during the sporic meiosis process.

The traits of the super soldier, it’s longevity and ability to heal, for example was always dominant. A side effect of using the mothers DNA material would sometimes result in a female appearing, yet infertile off-spring. The female off-spring was no less effective warrior than their male appearing counterpart.

Physical traits like strength and sensory superiority weren’t the only desirable characteristics for these soldiers. For the Progenitors deadliest enemies, were the most cunning and intelligent they had ever faced. Their soldiers needed to be loyal to them and still be an equal match for their enemy. Therefore, these soldiers were great strategists, cunning, ruthless, and intelligent. The Progenitors ensured that their first batch was perfect, the ideal super soldiers and had the ability to inspire and lead their troops. The First amongst these super soldiers, the Prime candidate.

Over time the Primes, including Ben had begun to achieve a sense of self, they wanted to be self-determinate over when they procreated and with whom. They also started to build awareness that the women brought to them were real people and it was unclear what these women thought or knew what was going on.

Medically they were perfectly safe and cared for. It was not dangerous for them to bear Remnant children. Pregnancy was shorter, they didn’t suffer from side effects that plagued human pregnancy and they were back to normal physically once the process was over. But what they thought or felt about the ordeal, well no one had bothered to find out.

Ben remembered that time, all Remnant had autobiographical memories and it didn’t matter if you were 100 or 10000 years old, your memories where crystal clear.

Ben felt strongly about consent even now, he had always treated subsequent sexual partners with utmost respect and would only accept enthusiastic consent. Where he could, he supported the right for women and men, slave or free, to have self-determination in this one small area at least.

Unfortunately, history bore out his lack of success in this area. Every time he made some progress in some city state or empire. War, famine, or some other natural disasters would wipe out his progress.

“What about consent?” Ben asked, with a hint of tension in his body, his relaxed posture from earlier gone.

“Well, I have been struggling with this… I of course know that Garak is an ex-Obsidian Order agent, using me for information. I am fully aware of the situation we are in. Yet Garak believes me to be an innocent Remnant, ripe for exploitation,” Julian carefully explains his quandary to the Prime.

“Can Garak give informed consent if he doesn’t actually know who I am?” Julian asks with a worried look, his own body giving away the tension he feels about this subject. He leans forward and picks at the snacks still on the coffee table.

“Well let’s look at what he does know? He knows your name, you are a doctor and that you are a Remnant,” Ben states looking at Julian. “These are all true statements,” Ben said.

“Yes, that’s true, but there is a lot I am leaving out,” Julian adds with a troubled frown.

Ben settles back into his chair, his gaze captured by the flicker flames in the fireplace, as he thinks about Julians question. “But isn’t that true for everyone when they start a new relationship? It’s rare that anyone starts out with the bald truth, straight out of the gate,” Ben said, playing devils advocate now. “Has Garak told you that he is a spy?”

“Well, no, but I already know he is one, I practically have his life story,” Julian said, fidgeting in place.

Ben stood from his chair and briefly walked around the room thinking. Julian watched him from his seat, eyes curious, heart beating a little faster in anxiousness. The seconds tick by slowly, waiting for Ben to continue.

“So, you are worried about the imbalance of knowledge between you,” Ben clarified.

Julian just nods his head.

Ben rocks back on his heels, with a contemplative expression, clear to see. “Hmm, I think that Garak is an experienced operative,” Ben said. Julian gives him a quick confirming nod. “Who knows you are a Remnant... He has enough information about us, that Tain has gathered ever since he found out about Remnants existing during the Cardassian/Federation war... I would say that he has enough information to at least hypothesise that you are not all as you seem,” Ben said working through the problem. He was pacing about the room, his step quickened, indicating the rapidity of his thoughts.

Ben turned his attention back to Julian. “How well do you know Cardassian’s physiologically?”

“Well, I am a doctor, I have read Cardassian medical texts, and I have physical experience with Cardassian’s. I guess what you are asking is if I can tell if a Cardassian is faking it?” Julian said. “I believe I could tell if he wasn’t interested in me,” Julian concluded confidently.

“Given all of this information I think Garak is able to give his consent… You will just have to decide on if he really means it,” Ben decided.

Julian looked calmly at Ben; this was pretty much the conclusion Julian had come to the other night. He leant back in his chair, suddenly feeling tired again. He let himself relax, feeling his muscles loosen after the tension he was holding from the difficult discussion.

“Yes, this is what I concluded too,” Julian said quietly.

“I trust you Julian, you are a good man. We are Remnants… No matter who you have a relationship with you can’t tell them everything. You are too old, you literally wouldn’t have the time, except for the Cliff notes... What you might consider insignificant, a partner might consider a deal breaker. Everyone has these decisions to make, even humans dating other humans,” Ben said coming over to perch on the arm of Julian’s chair. Ben puts a comforting arm around his shoulders.

This is the same question that any Remnant starts to ask once they get a few centuries under their belt. How much to tell their partners. It was genuinely impossible to tell them everything.

The two men stay in that position for several minutes, the only sound is their soft breathing and the fire crackling in the hearth.

“Would you like another beer?” Ben asked after several minutes of quiet contemplation.

“No, I best get back to the station. I should get a couple of hours of sleep to regenerate myself,” Julian said with a warm look of thanks at his old friend.

Ben stands and pulls Julian to his feet. Walking towards the doorway that Julian entered by, as Julian stretches and then follows Ben. “I’ll open the portal for you,” Ben said.

Before Ben opens the portal, he pulls Julian in his arms for a warm comforting hug. Julian squeezes back and a startle laugh is forced out of him at the unexpected squishiness of his friend. For a moment he had forgotten Ben’s new ‘dad bod’.

Ben gives Julian a loving look and runs his large hand over Julian’s hair. “Loving the curls by the way.”

Julian smiled brightly. He too loved his new curls, he always wanted curly hair. During his first youth all those centuries ago Julian had spent considerable time and effort in curling his hair and was pleased that Ben had noticed his new look.

Ben stretched out his hand and placed it on the door. Almost instantly the portal opened between this room and Julian’s quarters on Deep Space Nine. “Don’t be a stranger,” Ben said.

“Yeah, I’ll call with any news or developments with the wormhole,” Julian assured Ben.

With a final pat on the shoulder, Julian walked through the doorway.

End

Chapter 9: Lunch Date

Chapter Text

Lunch Date

“Garak!” Julian called out in greeting as he hurried in to the Replimat, holding up his hand for the traditional Cardassian welcome. Julian was vibrating with energy.

Their hands touched; Julian’s slightly warmer than Garak’s. Garak couldn’t help it as the undeniable flare of attraction coursed through him.

“Sorry I am late. I had a patient with a ruptured appendix,” Julian told Garak, with a gleam in his eye. Placing a black palm sized box on the table, before quickly pulling out the chair, sitting opposite Garak. The cacophony of the other patrons creating a sense of privacy for the two friends.

“I hope that it was nothing too serious?” Garak asked, a questioning tilt to his head. Garak appreciated the flush of colour to Julian’s cheeks.

“Oh no, not difficult for me at all of course. It is just so rare to have a case, my first in fact. It never usually gets to the stage of rupturing,” Julian says excitedly, with an almost bounce in his seat. “The patient is usually prescribed a suitable medicine to resolve the issue before it gets to the stage of rupturing. Doctor Jabra and I are considering writing it up as a paper and submitting it to Star Fleet Medical,” Julian explained, looking happy about this prospect.

“And has the patient made a full recovery?" Garak inquired with a gentle tone. He found himself indifferent to the fate of the patient, yet Julian's approach to his medical cases remained an enigma. There were days when he observed Julian deeply affected, almost in despair, by the challenges posed by a difficult case. On other occasions, Julian displayed a nonchalant, laissez-faire attitude that left Garak intrigued by the unpredictable nature of the doctor's emotions toward his patients.

“What? Oh yes, right as rain. I gave them today and tomorrow off duty. No permanent injury at all, give me a moment while I get something from the replicator,” Julian said as he jumped up from his chair and rushed to the replicator, to select his lunch.

Garak sighed at the youthful exuberance that the doctor showed. This was there third date after their strange late-night dinner. Julian was an excellent conversationalist, if an excitable one. Garak noticed the palm sized box Julian had left on the table with suspicion.

Julian returned and noisily dropped his lunch on the table, giving Garak a frankly besotted look. “Well! What did you think of the 'Echoes of Ascendancy: Shadows of Eugenesis’?” Julian asked eagerly, watching Garak’s expressions carefully.

‘What do I say,' Garak thought, wanting to be diplomatic. “It was certainly colourful. Wasn’t Khan somewhat one dimensional?” Garak ventured.

“Khan starts out as one dimensional in the first book, but as the series develops so does his character. It is speculated by the academics that the creators of the novel did this purposefully, as 150 years ago the feelings about the Eugenics War was still viscerally felt. And it is reasoned that the readers wouldn’t have accepted a sympathetic Khan,” Julian clarified.

“Academics?” Garak enquired not sure he understood the term in standard.

“Yes, the 'Echoes of Ascendancy’ series is considered a masterpiece of its form. Many Universities include it in their curriculum. Some schools also incorporate it in classes for their older students,” Julian said, as he took a drink of the fizzy concoction in his cup. “It is also well known for its historical accuracy of the time period. Not the actual events in the story though.”

Garak was even more baffled now that this incomprehensible book was even studied at higher learning institutions. Though it was interesting that it was considered historically accurate.

“Does this include the representation of the Remnants?” Garak asked innocently, subtly moving closer to Julian, to encourage confidences. 'This might be an opportunity to learn more about the Remnants’. Though as their dates continued, Garak found himself less motivated in gathering information about remnants and wanting to discern what Julian thought on all subjects. He had a very black and white perspective on everything. Often from the vantage point of superiority, not an exactly attractive characteristic, but fascinating nonetheless.

“More or less,” Julian shrugged. “We are renowned for our combat skills and leadership. Faster and stronger than humans. Easily a match physically for Cardassians. Not sure about Klingons and Vulcans though,” Julian said with a thoughtful look on his face as he took another slow bite of his sandwich. This was untrue, Remnants were a match for both species. This wasn’t common knowledge, so Julian wasn’t at liberty to share this information.

‘This really is a good roast beef sandwich’. Julian took another sip of his sparkling water. Watching Garak’s reactions, while maintaining a relaxed posture, his face open not giving away any of his thoughts. As Julian had suspected Garak didn’t hold much interest in his Graphic Novel. Julian could tell by his micro expressions that he was both puzzled and horrified by the book. ‘It will be interesting to see if I can get him to appreciate the novel’, Julian thought while directing another soft look at Garak. Though it ultimately didn’t matter.

Julian relished his interactions with Garak, finding the Cardassian both intriguing and appealing. Engaging in a subtle form of retaliation, he took pleasure in tormenting the man – his way of serving just desserts for attempting to exploit the supposedly innocent Julian by introducing him to graphic novels. Julian's perception of Cardassian’s suggested a deep appreciation for the intricate nuances of language, where layers of meaning unfolded within words. This appreciation was prominently displayed in their poetry and prose, which skilfully navigated the complexities of meaning. Unlike their literary pursuits, Cardassian visual arts adhered to a literal representation without harbouring hidden symbolism; for them, a rose was simply a rose.

Julian hoped Garak appreciated the lesson he was taking the time to teach him. He had later found out that Tain had introduced ‘Hallmark Movies' To the Obsidian Order’s training curriculum. Julian smiled brightly at Garak, as he contemplated all of those poor Cardassian’s he had inadvertently made to suffer through truly awful movies.

As Julian playfully batted his eyes at Garak, he relished the teasing, wondering how long it would take the Cardassian to catch on. Immersed in the enjoyment of their banter, Julian began contemplating something more profound with Garak – a genuine connection and confidant. ‘Maybe if I introduced some of those Movies, Tain makes his operatives watch, it will alert Garak to the fact that I might not be all that I seem', crossed Julian's mind. 'Maybe after completing this current book series'.

Julian tried not to frown as he thought of Ben’s advice. He would need an ally he could trust when war finally came to Deep Space Nine.

Garak was looking particularly appealing today in his dark blue and grey brocade suit. Julian had noticed that Garak often wore heavy layers, no doubt to combat the chill of the station. ‘Hmmm, it did show of his neck ridges to perfection, quite flirty by Cardassian standards'.

Garak noted that Julian once again included himself in the descriptions of Remnants martial prowess. He took a spoonful of his stew, it was meant to be a Cardassian recipe, but it was nothing like what he would be served at home. But it tasted pleasant enough. The company more than made up for its deficiencies.

Garak took a sip of his warm juice, the smell spicy and enticing, hoping the cup would disguise the dismay he felt. It looked like he would have to read more of these novels if just to get the additional information about remnants. Garak tried not to grimace at the thought.

Julian continued to expound on his favourite book series. “The artwork is amazing, it was the start of the art deco resurgent period. A brilliant graphic artist called Hilda West, drew the images and ironically, Imran Khan, no relation, was the writer. I thought the spy craft was particularly good, don’t you think?” Julian asked, smiling brightly, waiting for Garak’s response.

Julian was careful not to laugh at Garak’s expression. The spy-craft in the novel was rudimentary at best. Julian had been one of the Prime’s commanders at the time, he had personally led several undercover missions to gather intel on Khan and his forces.

150 years ago when he was called Imran Khan and writing 'Echoes of Ascendancy' he was careful not to reveal any of the secrets of just how the Remnants were able to infiltrate Khan’s secret bases. He didn’t want to give the humans ideas. So, he used a lot of creative licence when devising his spy craft, keeping it fantastical, just what the general public expected from such stories.

Garak made a concerted effort to conceal the amusem*nt that flickered across his face as Julian inadvertently revealed his true ignorance about the intricacies of real spy work. The so-called spy craft presented in the graphic novels appeared basic, far removed from the complex reality Garak had experienced. "Ah, yes, very interesting, very colourful," Garak commented diplomatically, nodding in agreement with Julian's enthusiastic remarks.

Throughout their encounters, Garak strategically positioned himself in such a way that allowed him to observe the comings and goings of the establishment, ensuring his back was against a wall. Fulfilling his commitment to guide Julian, he shared this practice with the doctor. However, Julian, in his infuriatingly confident manner, asserted that only one of them could have their back against the wall at a time. With his supposedly superior reflexes, Julian claimed he could react more swiftly than Garak. To accommodate Garak's perceived anxiety about the matter, Julian graciously conceded the advantageous position to him. Garak struggled to contain his disbelief at Julian's blatant disregard for the most fundamental principles of self-preservation.

“Though I think that there was something wrong with the version you gave me. As there were many panels, where I couldn’t read the language,” Garak said with a puzzled look. “My universal translator didn’t work either,” Garak said with a frown. Garak just couldn't see the appeal. What was even more surprising was that this work of fiction was obviously meant for adults, as the violence was more graphic than suitable for children. Also, for some reason the two main characters were constantly finding themselves in situations where they had to take off all their clothes.

‘A most puzzling medium,’ Garak thought as he longed for the complexity of Cardassian prose.

“Oh no, that is the best part, the writer came up with an entire language called Syntara for Khan and his augments to use. This is what is brilliant about the series, by the end of the 42-novel run you will have enough information about the language to decode it yourself. If you are particularly talented at languages, you can break the code much earlier in the series. I broke it by the 14^th novel.” Julian proclaimed proudly. “I was only 13 years old, too,” Julian added with a shy smile.

Garak’s mind was spinning, ‘41 more novels to read’, Garak was starting to have some sympathy for Tain. The author invented a new language just for the purpose of his novel. It was the most shocking thing Garak had ever heard of. “Is that common on Earth, for author’s to creat their own languages for a story?” Garak enquired. Fascination mixed with horror at the nonsensical waste of energy.

“Yes, it was particularly common, with fiction written in the fantasy or science fiction, genres,” Julian explained as he ate his lunch, a sandwich, as Julian called it.

“By having Syntara included in the text, and the language only slowly disclosed to the readers over the series. It really brought readers in who were particularly fond of puzzles. What is great, is the text when translated, blends in seamlessly into the story. Giving more depth to the characters and exploring subtleties to the plot that weren’t apparent on the first read through,” Julian said, obviously eager to expand on his favourite group of novels.

Garak frowned on hearing this explanation, so alien to how Cardassian’s structured a novel. “What is stopping an avid reader from using their own translating program to decode the language?”

“Two things, both very clever. One: Copyright. Khan copyrighted the language independently from the novel and prevented the makers of the universal translators from including it in their database.” Julian explained enthusiastically, his admiration for the creators of the novels obvious. “Two: The way the graphic novel is structured, and the language revealed to the readers, there wasn’t enough information available for the translation program to hypothesise a translation until they were at least eleven books in and then the translation was not very good,” Julian grinned broadly, his open face showing his delight in the subject.

“Aren’t there translations somewhere?” Garak asked hopefully, he had the dreadful feeling that Julian wanted him to learn an entire made-up language.

Julian’s apparent enthusiasm dimmed slightly at Garak’s lack of excitement at the language reveal. “Well yes, there are translations available on the net. But that’s no fun. The whole importance of the concept was the slow reveal, with the intent to engage the fandom.” Julian held his secret glee inside at Garak’s lack of enthusiasm.

“But any true fan doesn’t reveal the translations,” Julian said with a frown, as he combed his fingers through his curly hair. He obviously found the topic of translations uncomfortable.

Garak smiled weakly and determined to find the translations for the first graphic novel at least. He decided to concentrate on eating his lunch, so at least his mouth would be full. Garak wouldn’t be able to answer any of Julian’s questions, if he was eating. He could after all just admire Julian’s young face, glowing with happiness.

A hapless Bajoran just then dropped his lunch tray, Garak could see it happen from his vantage point, Julian didn’t even jump, though turned around to look when he saw Garak’s attention wasn’t focused on him. Julian’s total lack of situational awareness just demonstrated to Garak, that Remnants apparent martial superiority wasn’t inherent. This in turn suggested to Garak that intense training must be required for Remnants to attain the skills they were famous for.

Julian turned his attention back to Garak. Julian did sometimes forget to act surprised at sudden noises. When you had been in as many battles as Julian, a dropped lunch tray wasn’t about to distract him. Julian liked to play at obliviousness as it drove Garak crazy. Julian enjoyed studying Garak’s micro expressions as he sublimated his disapproval at Julian’s apparent lack of situational awareness.

Garak knew Julian had acute vision. But not about how sensitive his other senses where. There was never a time or place where on a subconscious level Julian wasn’t aware of and cataloguing threats to his person. Julian hadn’t been overstating his reflexes. It’s just with the centuries of experience Julian had he could take in his surroundings in a microsecond. Noting all reflections, so he could monitor his surroundings seamlessly and above all else unnoticed.

“Anyway, the rest of my belongings have arrived at the station, and I have finished decorating. I brought some childhood trinkets with me,” Julian shared a shy smile with Garak at that, bring the Cardassian’s attention back to himself.

“When I was a child, my mother took me to Herculaneum in Italy. It is an amazing historical site. A whole town was subsumed by ash when a nearby volcano erupted. The area was totally preserved from nearly 2500 years ago,” Julian eagerly told Garak.

“What happened to the people?” Garak asked, curious at the idea of a town being preserved for that length of time.

“That was a bit gruesome, but the people had died in the streets and their homes. When they were found, the ash and volcanic mud had hardened around them, making a sort of death mask,” Julian said, bringing his cup to his mouth, finishing the last of his water.

“Cardassia doesn’t have any historical site that compares,” Garak said, this was an interesting conversation diversion, but he was a bit puzzled how this connected to the graphic novel. “I am not understanding the link between the Graphic novel?”

“Oh right, when I was there, I found some volcanic glass and the official guide allowed me to keep it,” Julian said, he fidgeted in his seat. “As I mentioned to you before I am exceptional at programming replicators,” Julian said arrogantly.

“I thought it was your friend Flix who was a genius at replicators,” Garak asked, not being able to resist teasing the young man.

Julian gave a little playful glare at Garak, ignoring his comment. “Anyway, as I am exceptional with replicators, I was able to fashion you a medallion like in the Novel, though you won’t get to that part until you get to book 4,” Julian shyly slid over the box Garak had observed earlier. “I added a clasp, so you can wear it like a lapel pin”.

The box was black and made from some sort of strong paper. Garak slowly lifts the lid, revealing an almond shaped medallion, nestled on a stark white background of silk. In the centre of the pin, was a round black stone or glass, it glittered in the subdued lighting of the Replimat. With script from the 'Echoes of Ascendancy’ encircling it. Garak gives Julian a questioning look.

“I made it using the volcanic glass I found, as a child. The design is based on the Graphic Novel and off course using Syntara. In the fourth novel Gal Tara gives a similar one to her lover Susan,” Julian explained. Dipping his eyes before looking back at Garak flirtatiously. “I thought it could be a symbol of our budding relationship, a secret between us. Erm, romantic talisman,” Julian says his face growing hot at this expression of emotion.

“It says your name of course,” Julian points to a particular spot on the medallion. “And well the essence of what makes you, you, to demonstrate just how well I know and understand you,” Julian finishes with a smile.

Garak looked back at the gift that Julian had obviously spent time on. It was beautiful and would suit Garak’s style wonderfully. He picked it up and it was smooth and cool to touch. It was not as light as he expected. “What is this made off?” he asked as he tilted it to capture the light in the Replimat.

“Well, the volcanic glass was polished and smoothed, and the base was made from gunmetal. I chose it because of the subtle colour changes in the metal and I thought, with your eyesight you would be able to appreciate the various colour shifts”.

“Once you understand Syntara and have read most of the graphic novels in the 'Echoes of Ascendancy’ series’ you could read the message and decipher the symbolism and confirm just how good I am at reading you,” Julian continued, with another coy, knowing look.

Garak couldn’t help the flicker of his eye lid, as well as the flare of his neck ridges. Julian was both overconfident in his arrogance and charming in his excitement. It was laughable that Julian genuinely thought he knew Garak so well. ‘If only he knew the truth of it,’ Garak thought, ’he would be shocked right down to his innocent soul,’.

“You think after three months on the station and five dates, you know all you need to know about me, that you are able to condense it on this, broach?” Garak questioned, offence creeping in to his voice.

Unexpectedly Garak felt angry at Julian’s blithe assurance that Garak was so transparent. Him, Garak, one of the best and most skilful agents the Obsidian Order had ever seen, before his downfall. That this inexperienced young man could see him clearly enough after a few conversations, that he could condense the whole of his experience into a few simple words. He shook his head.

Garak stilled his face, not wanting to show how angry he was to the young Remnant who sat calmly across from him finishing his sandwich, every now again waving or happily greeting another patron of the Replimat he knew.

A hurt feeling was clear to see on Julian’s face, his happiness dimming. “Oh yes, absolutely, I told you I have superior skills, on top of being naturally talented due to my genetically enhanced nature,” Julian claimed, looking defensive. “I am so confident in fact that I am willing to make a bet with you,” Julian suggested with a raised brow, and a smug grin.

“What will we wager?” Garak replied, a steely glint to his eye, trying to maintain his genial expression. “Secrets perhaps? I get to question you for 15 minutes if I win, and vice versa you ask me questions too. Only the absolute truth as an answer, mind you” Garak slyly suggested, holding his breath hoping Julian would agree.

“Sure, I’ll answer your questions with the truth. Why don’t we make it 30 minutes? I know everything about you already,” Julian responded with a look of determination as he contemplated Garak. Trying to decide what he wanted from Garak. Suddenly his face broke out into the broadest grin Garak had seem from the other man. “If I win, you must introduce me to everyone we meet, ‘as the most cunning spy you have ever met,’”.

Garak tried not to grind his teeth at the dismissal of Julian asking him any questions, the doctor seemed to think he knew everything about Garak. No one had ever treated Garak this way before, like he was an open book. Even when he was undercover, most people treated Cardassians with suspicion. He really wanted to prove Julian wrong.

“How will we decide who wins?” Garak asks with a dip of the head, while maintaining a calm exterior.

“Oh easy, you will, when you translate the medallion or if you haven’t done so, in say three years, I will decode it for you,” Julian suggested after a couple minutes of thought.

“You want me to judge that this object,” Garak said picking up the medallion again. “Reflects my core values. How can you trust that I will tell the truth?”

“Because dear Garak, it will be undeniable, and if we asked any of our friends, they would agree with me too!” Julian said in triumph, his confidence supreme, eyes glittering with anticipation.

It was obvious to Garak that Julian anticipated this bet with great enthusiasm. It was abundantly clear too, that Julian expected to win.

“Okay, it’s a deal, as the Ferengi like to say,” Garak said with a charming nod of the head. Garak groaned internally as he realised, he would have to find a way to translate the medallion now.

Taking the medallion from its box, he pinned it to his top, it was at that moment that he appreciated how well it suited his usual style. A flare of annoyance at Julian making him a piece of jewellery that so suited his wardrobe. It gave him a moment of pause. ‘It couldn’t be true, could it? Had Julian parsed his character to such a detail he could win the bet?’ Garak suddenly doubted.

Garak shook his head at such an impossible thought and dismissed the notion.

Checking the time, he saw that he only had fifteen minutes left before returning to his shop.

“So, my dear, how did you find ‘The Never Ending Sacrifice’?” Garak asked with hope.

“It was a bit repetitive, wasn’t it?” Julian said with a frown. Julian looked back down at his now empty cup and wondered if he had time to have another one.

"That is literally the essence of the novel. It stands as a classic literary form on Cardassia, and 'The Never Ending Sacrifice' is the epitome of this genre," Garak declared passionately.

"The Prime insists that Cardassians are only captivated by the repetitive story form because they only read about them. If a Cardassian lived long enough to experience all the cycles depicted in the novel, it wouldn't hold nearly as much fascination for them," Julian countered dismissively, his eyes fixed on Garak to gauge his reaction to the mention of the Remnant Prime.

Had Garak retained any of his drink, he might have involuntarily spluttered at Julian's comment. 'Is Julian's understanding of the novel so juvenile, so feeble, that he's attempting to appeal to authority?' Garak thought in despair. Dealing with the young Remnant posed its own set of challenges, but in that moment, he found himself yearning for the soothing embrace of his wire to numb the intellectual pain he was currently experiencing.

Garak massaged his eye ridges, trying to sooth the budding headache he was experiencing. “And this is the reasoned opinion of your Prime, is it?” Garak asked tiredly.

Garak comforted himself with the information that Julian seemed to have personal knowledge of the Remnant Prime. Even if his respect for that being plummeted due to their lack of understanding of his favourite novel.

“Well, the Prime has lived for centuries, he would know,” Julian stated patronisingly.

Garak perked up when he heard about the Prime’s age. From the files Garak was personally able to hack and to be fair the files Tain’s cyber operatives were able to acquire. He knew the Federation had no idea how long the current Remnant Prime had held that position. No one even knew how a Remnant became a Prime.

Julian tilted his head innocently, as he looked at Garak, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Besides, isn’t the whole story a bit grey?” Julian added, eyes wide.

“Well, I am sure you could change the colour of the font to make it more interesting for you,” Garak acerbically bit out through a clenched jaw.

Julian kept his innocent face in place as he enjoyed the change of hue in the Cardassian’s skin tone from his usually grey to a bluer tint and tried not to grin. Garak was so very cute when he was riled up. He absently wondered if Garak flushed blue all over, hoping he would be able to find that out soon.

Julian flashed Garak a wide smile. “Why don’t you come to my quarter’s this evening and we can discuss it further?” Julian proposed, waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way. His eyes bright with hope.

Keeping the time in mind, Garak consciously forced himself to calm down and present a more relaxed countenance to Julian.

“Yes, my dear doctor, that would be lovely,” Garak said with an ingratiating smile. “I am sure I can soon demonstrate the rich complexity of Cardassian prose”. ‘Maybe I will be able to get more details from Julian regarding the Prime,’ he thought a bit viciously, wanting a little revenge on Julian for his arrogance displayed that lunch time.

“Excellent,” Julian enthused. “And I can show some of those skits I explained before”. Julian smiled warmly at Garak. As if he didn’t realise how upset Garak was due to his comments about 'The Never Ending Sacrifice'.

Garak froze. “How delightful. I am sure I will enjoy it,” Garak said.

Julian couldn’t help but smirk at Garak as he observed his glazed eyes.

“Yes tonight, what fun we will have,” Julian said as he stood from the table.

Garak stood too. Clearing the table ready to bring their empty plates and cups to the replicator to be recycled.

Julian held up his hand and pressed his palm against Garak’s, in farewell. Julian indecently trails his fingers along Garak’s palm as he pulled his hand away. He knew in Cardassian parlance he had basically propositioned Garak.

Keeping his face friendly as he said a warm goodbye. Then Julian swiftly left the stunned Cardassian in his wake.

‘Damn it!’ thought Garak as a thrill of desire travelled through the Cardassian. Mere moments ago, he believed the turmoil of his attraction to Julian had neatly resolved itself after witnessing Julian’s unappealing and egotistical display during lunch. Yet, with a single touch of Julian’s hand, the ember of longing for the young doctor reignited fiercely. ‘Aaargh! I sincerely hope all this torment is worth it’, Garak thought sourly.

With a sigh, Garak picked up the waste from their lunch and brought it all to the replicator. ‘Let’s hope tonight’s liaison brings some progress’. Though honestly Garak harboured little expectation. There existed a valid reason why Garak favoured experienced partners. The notion of guiding a novice through his first sexual experience with a Cardassian was not appealing at all.

Dragging his feet, Garak returned to his shop, struggling to reciprocate greetings with his customary geniality. He would need to prepare his mind for his latest date with Julian.

Chapter 10: meditations

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Garak’s Quarters

Garak blinked his eyes as he slowly awoke. After many years of training and experience he could become fully awake and functioning in mere moments. He heard soft snuffling beside him, turning his head, he looked at Julian fondly. His bed partner looked much younger in repose. The grey and black brocade cover pulled up to his chin, contrasted with the witness of the pillow he was resting against.

With a soft smile on his face, he thought back on the last two months. It had been an eye opening experience for Garak. Not as terrible as he feared and not as astounding as Julian had promised, with his talk of Remnants prowess as lovers.

While it held true that Remnants seemed to excel in the art of being respectful lovers, this peculiar trait posed a conundrum for Garak. Particularly with Julian, who displayed an unwavering eagerness to adhere to Garak's lead when it came to matters of intimacy.

Garak, in his romantic entanglements, held a strict principle—enthusiastic consent was the only acceptable currency. He didn’t approve of the cultural double standards he often observed in his comrades. Who tolerated behaviour on Bajor that would be a punishable offence on Cardassia.

Garak lay in the comfort of his bed waiting for the environment controls to bring the temperature up to daytime levels. A dark scowl crossed his features. The atrocities enacted during the Bajoran occupation, a dark chapter that still sent shivers down his spine.

Garak operated as a lone operative rather than a military leader, he was powerless to change mission parameters. Still where possible he covertly spirited away vulnerable individuals back into the safety of the resistance or Vedeks.

Garak turned his head to watch Julian’s features, as slowly the light levels in the room increased, simulating a Cardassian sunrise. Garak wanted to run his fingers through Julian’s soft curls.

‘Julian had a watchful quality’, Garak pondered. During their more explicit encounters he had a pointed attentiveness directed toward Garak's pleasure and comfort. Julian's sincerity on the matter of consent, as expressed during their first dinner, was palpable.

This adherence to the importance of consent, however, left Garak grappling with a certain unease. It introduced an unfamiliar timidity into their intimate interactions, a sensation with which Garak was unaccustomed. The dynamic between them, coloured by Julian's careful consideration, added a layer of complexity that Garak found both intriguing and perplexing.

Sighing softly to himself, at least it made it easier guiding Julian through the first awkwardness of a sexual relationship. Now after two months of experimentation, they had gotten in to a pleasurable groove.

Garak’s eyes drift around the room, as he laid cocooned in his covers. His eyes settled on the paperback book in easy reach of the bed. A first edition copy of Julian’s favourite book. One that must be extremely valuable.

Warmth crept over him as he looked at the book. He lifted a finger to delicately draw it down the spine of the book. A contentment suffused his body. He sighed restlessly. The more time he spent with Julian, the more conflicted he became in his scheme.

He had found himself engrossed in the fourth book of the Echoes of Ascendancy. While he might never become a fervent admirer of graphic novels, he couldn't deny the depth of meaning depicted in the story’s images. The illustrations seemed to carry layers of symbolism and meaning, a nuance that was not present in Cardassian art.

Garak was slowly gaining appreciation for the art form.

Realising that humans imbued imagery with layers of meaning, not unlike the intricacies of Cardassian prose. An unexpected aspect of Julian’s character was that he was an excellent teacher. Pointing to the shifting colour tones that could represent emotions or the environmental conditions.

The symbolism of colours intrigued Garak; for instance, the coolness of blue, representing both physical chill and a reserved temperament. Meanwhile, red evoked notions of strength or impending danger. These contemplations led Garak to reconsider Starfleet uniforms with a fresh perspective.

Garak chuckled softly; the covert operations depicted were purely fantastical. The historical context proved intriguing. The portrayal of the Remnants was almost disappointing, lacklustre, yet he recalled Julian insisting on its accuracy. Garak acknowledged he had only a singular source for comparison.

Julian, as promised, also introduced him to comedy skits. Surprisingly, they proved more captivating, despite an initial lack of understanding of the wordplay. Complicating matters, the videos Julian shared were from a period predating Federation Standard. However, it wasn't until he watched 'Four Candles' by the Two Ronnies that he grasped how the scene combined visual ques with Standard, exploiting its flexibility of meaning and timing.

This marked the first instance where he genuinely appreciated the subtleties of human humour, realising how double meanings could amuse them. Cardassians employed subtlety in their courting, writings, and politics, but the way humans applied it to humour stood in stark contrast to Cardassians' sense of amusem*nt.

Cardassia didn’t have an art form like it.

Julian was giving him a postgraduate education in human psychology, building on what Tain had begun during his Obsidian Order training. Though Julian had innocently suggested they watch a ‘black and white' movie called ‘Miracle on 34^th Street’. For a moment Garak was seized with horror. ‘Did Julian know about the Obsidian Order?' But he couldn’t, Garak calmed himself.

Julian tried to persuade him by telling him it was an interesting dichotomy, between fantasy and reality and how the story could be viewed on many levels. Garak was still bewildered by the premise, where adults blatantly lied to children, pretending in mythical beings. ‘How could this possible be healthy for the Developing child or maybe it was to develop critical thinking?' Garak pondered, even now shaking his head at the memory.

Garak questioned Julian about this tradition and Julian admitted that not all parents followed this archaic practise. But he made the point that humans were inherent story tellers, with vivid imaginations. That it was an important part of human development to partake in imaginative play.

Later, as they lay together in Garak’s bed, snuggled under his heavy blankets, Julian asked about the games that Cardassian children played. Garak told him he particularly enjoyed puzzles as a child. Julian pushed, wanting to know if he ever ‘Play Pretend’? Garak had explained that Cardassian children played at imitating the roles of the adults around them.

Julian using his newfound knowledge of how to pleasure a Cardassian’s extorted an admission from Garak, that he once for two months, when he was five, played at being an administrator. His mother in a moment of sentimentality rarely expressed, had given young Garak a seal and ink pad. Garak had happily stamped his approval of all the household expenses.

It was a cherished memory for Garak, his mother was a practical woman who did not often indulge her son’s play. That she had done so on this occasion warmed a place deep inside Garak. Even by Cardassian standards, most would consider his childhood as being cold.

This caused Julian to laugh and express the opinion that Garak must have been adorable. Garak was offended, frowning, and turning his face away. Julian feeling guilty that he had laughed at his lover, begged for forgiveness as he peppered soft kisses over Garak’s face.

As a form of penance, Julian confessed that when he was four, he wished to grow up to be a cat. Insisting that his mother provide his milk in a saucer, he would then take his afternoon naps in a makeshift cat bed on the living room floor.

Garak extolled Julian to never mention this to another Cardassian, ever. For some reason this caused Julian to laugh until he cried. Another stark contrast between Remnant’s and Cardassian’s. Julian assured him that human’s could have the same reaction.

Anyway, Garak bluntly put a stop to the conversation of the ‘Christmas movie' by lying. He said a former human lover had shown him the movie before. Julian pouted and then proceeded to question him on the movie and this 'human'. When he revealed that the movie he saw was in colour. Julian proclaimed dismissively that this was an inferior remake of the original black and white version.

But Garak resisted all entreaties.

Julian eventually persuaded Garak to join him in watching ‘Monty Python’s and the Holy Grail.’ As the film unfolded, Garak found himself regretting not opting for the Christmas movie. The absurdist humour gave him a pounding headache, and the only silver lining was Julian’s attentive care afterward.

Beep

A single tone emitted from the rooms communication system. Julian’s alarm. Garak always liked to watch this moment. It was the one tangible difference that Garak had detected in the other man.

Julian’s eyes popped open. Immediately awake and alert. No transition from sleep to wakefulness. It was a marvel. Garak had trained arduously in his youth to acquire the skill. Garak asked Julian about it. Julian just rolled his eyes as if he couldn’t believe Garak would ask such an obvious question. His succinct reply was simply, “super soldier”, while pointing at his chest.

Chagrined for once, Garak had looked away in embarrassment. Though Garak knew of Julian’s genetically engineered origins, Julian rarely acted in a way that showed that he was more than enthusiastic young man, no matter how many times Julian reminded people of his status.

“Morning Garak,” Julian said with a bright smile as he sat up in bed. He looked particularly happy this morning. He reached out and stroked Garak’s hair, it was so silky and soft, “how is your hair perfect every morning?” Julian said in envy.

Garak smirked. It was true, Cardassian’s hair texture was such that it didn’t 'tangle' as human’s or Julian’s particularly did. “While you look like a Thistlebloom about to shed your seedlings,” Garak now grinned as he lifted his had and twisted two of Julian’s rogue curls through his fingers.

‘Curly hair was truly fascinating, it was a pity that Julian followed the current Star Fleet trend and kept his hair short,’ Garak thought.

Garak laughed; he enjoyed these mornings with Julian.

Garak wasn’t sure why the doctor bothered with an alarm.

As a Remnant, Julian had explained he only needed six hours of sleep a night.

It was true too; Garak had executed some clandestine experiments on the young doctor. He slept for exactly six hours a night if not disturbed. Garak had been able to orchestrate disturbances during the night. When he managed to wake Julian, no matter how little sleep he had, he would be instantly alert and seemed to be fully rested and he could work until the next rest period, with apparent ease.

Julian run his long sensitive fingers soothingly across Garak’s eye ridges and smiled softly at Garak. Before straightening up, stretching his long limbs and arching his back and neck, before he relaxed his body again.

The next moment Julian bounded out of the bed and headed to the washroom. He was gone for no longer then five minutes before returning, naked. With not a concern in the world he placed his refreshed sleep wear in the cubby that Garak had provided him.

Garak sat up in bed, enjoying the view the young man provided, as he watched Julian add a little serum to his hands before running them through his hair. He then used a wide toothed comb to tame and style his curls.

“Do you want some breakfast here, or shall we go to the Replimat?” Julian asked, as he efficiently pulled on his clothes. An extra pep in his step. All smiles and a touch of eagerness in his look.

“You’re in a good mood today. What is that expression human’s like to use?” Garak pondered aloud, his eyes lazily following Julian around the room. “Ah yes, someone got up on the right side of the bed,” Garak said slyly, he found himself gearing up for a pleasant commentary on the nonsensical nature of humans.

“Don’t you remember? I am going to finally be debriefed on the Prophets today,” said Julian, pleasure clear in his tone.

“Mmm, the Prophets, yes now I recall,” Garak had an exceptional memory. He couldn’t help it as his expression become stern. He still thought it was short-sighted of Commander Sisko to withhold this information.

But this situation was enlightening in another way. As it proved just how sneaky Julian could be when he wanted to know something.

Deciding he too should get ready for his less than exiting day, he left the cosy bed for the washroom.

He ruminated over Julian and his desire to know about the wormhole aliens. After that first time Julian had seen the wormhole and expressed his dire predictions. Julian had set about finding out all he could about the Gamma quadrant.

It was only two days later that Julian had heard about the Prophets. But Julian hadn’t reacted in the way Garak expected, he frowned as he remembered. It was the only anomaly that Garak had perceived in the young doctor. In all other respects Julian acted as Garak predicted. He thought that the young man would be thrilled and excited. But by all appearances Julian seemed to be worried about the Aliens in the wormhole.

Garak cleaned his teeth and had a three minute cycle in the sonic shower, set to his specifications. He spent the next ten minutes carefully applying an oil to his scales, to protect his skin from the inhospitable cold and humidity of the station. Julian had shyly offered him the concoction four short weeks ago, when Julian had noticed some discolouration to his exposed skin. There were many unexpected benefits to 'dating' the young Remnant.

The dry heat of the bathroom was pleasant, and the heady aroma of the oil infused with the scent of the red tea plant in first flush, surrounded him. A blessing and a curse as a savage stab of homesickness pierced his heart. The scent never failed to remind Garak of the man who raised him as a son.

Garak thoughts drifted back to Julian and his puzzling reaction to the aliens. For one Julian went directly ‘to the source' and spent hours each week in the Bajoran Temple on the Promenade deck. Learning from the Vedeks there, everything they knew about their Prophets.

The most surprising thing to Garak was that Julian was apparently genuine in his respect. Garak had questioned Julian one evening in Quark’s. When they were secluded in a dark and almost quiet corner. Julian proclaimed to be a non-believer in a higher power. But off all the religions he had met so far, the Bajoran’s were based in reality, he had proclaimed seriously.

This had led to a delightfully spirited arguments on the merits of religion. Garak found himself in the strange position of arguing the benefits of religion to citizenship of a people. As the evening progressed Julian became more animated and passionate as he argued his position. Julian’s eyes had burned with such fire that night, face flushed and hair charmingly disarrayed. Garak smiled at the memory.

Julian’s interest in the Prophets had one unexpected result. He and Major Kira had bonded over Julian’s interest in her religion. At first, she was suspicious of Julian’s motives and not forgetting Julian’s thoughtless remarks about working on the frontier, from their first encounter.

Garak thought it more likely that Major Kira remembered the condescending and patronising attitude of the majority of Star Fleet personal on board the station. Who sometimes gave the distinct impression of humouring the backwards natives. Either from their non-religious position or from the fact that the Star Fleet officer’s own religion conflicted significantly with that of Bajor’s.

Their relationship started with guarded acknowledgement in the Temple to eventual breakfast twice a week before devotional meditation. Julian confided in Garak that he was sure it was Kira who had eventually persuaded Sisko to brief Julian on the wormhole.

But since the briefing has been scheduled Julian had vacillated between nervous excitement and worry. Julian had yet to reveal the source of his anxiousness.

Garak comes out of the washroom, seeing that Julian is now fully dressed in his unflattering uniform. Sitting at the dining room table sipping a cup of Turkish coffee and reading his pad. ‘No doubt the latest medical journal' Garak thought as he swept by in his warm dressing gown.

Garak quickly dressed for the day, wearing a mustard and rust coloured suit, the multi layered outfit protection against the chill in the station. Finally picking up the medallion, Garak looked at it carefully as he did most days before putting it on. It truly was an excellent piece. Though Garak was no farther in translating the Syntara script inscribed on the surface of the medallion.

Julian had never mentioned their bet again since the day he had presented his gift to Garak. But some days Julian would see him wearing it and grin broadly at him, his eyes sparkling attractively.

Julian looked up from the article he was reading about the latest Melvaran mud flea vaccine, which apparently had fewer side effects than earlier versions of the vaccine. He smiled when he saw Garak wearing his medallion. He wondered if Garak would continue to wear it once he translates the message.

“You never answered. Shall we have breakfast here or at the Replimat?”

Garak levelled a discerning gaze at Julian, subtly squinting as he observed the other man. Julian, in turn, kept an unnatural stillness, his fingers visibly tensing around the data pad he clutched. After a momentary pause, Garak broke the silence, his voice carrying a measured tone. "I think, here, my dear," he finally answered, gracefully making his way to the replicator.

Reflecting on Julian's revelations, Garak acknowledged the undeniable genius of Flix when it came to replicators. However, there was a notable limitation in Julian's culinary repertoire, featuring a mere three dishes from Cardassia.

These included: a hearty rustic bread crafted from grains of the southern plains, a Cardassian porridge derived from the same robust grain, and an intriguing, spiced jerky prepared from the meat of a rather unattractive bird-like creature.

Turning back to face Julian, Garak inquired, "Your usual?" with a raised brow, patiently awaiting the doctor's response.

Julian gave a large sigh. “I think I will need an English breakfast today, sage and onion sausage please?” Julian asked, his shoulders not as straight as usual, as he started to play with the spoon beside his coffee cup. “Oh, and a cup of builders tea”.

Garak couldn’t help the grimace at the mention of the tea. A more disgusting concoction he couldn’t imagine. He put in his request, today He would have the bread with Bajoran butter and Manuka honey. Removing his breakfast, he ordered Julian’s.

As Garak set the breakfast tray on the glass table, the atmosphere between them held a subtle tension. Julian, usually lively and carefree, seemed preoccupied. Garak, perceptive as ever, took note of the unease in Julian's demeanour.

Julian absentmindedly played with the spoon beside his now empty coffee cup, a small yet telling gesture of his internal contemplation. Sensing Julian's distraction, Garak decided to address the underlying tension.

"My dear Julian, you seem a bit more reserved this morning. Is there something on your mind?" Garak inquired, his tone gentle but curious. As he spoke, he poured a cup of Redleaf tea for himself, allowing Julian a moment to collect his thoughts. Curious now.

Julian talked often about many subjects, passionately. He hadn’t been as open about the Remnants, not as he had been that time at dinner where Julian discussed Remnants sexual reputation and how important consent was to him. Garak wondered if Julian was about to reveal a Remnant secret. Garak had decades of experience. He knew how to read between the silences and the words not said.

Julian looked up, meeting Garak's gaze with a hint of hesitation. After a brief pause, he sighed, a mixture of uncertainty and transparency in his eyes. He remembers Ben’s advice and knows the Prime trusted him explicitly. He had discussed the Prophets/aliens with Ben extensively and shared all he knew with their scientists. Ben had never met such a species before. The scientists they had consulted could not provide a hypothesis without any observational data.

Julian must be crazy, as he really wanted to trust Garak. He knew it was foolhardy. He knew that Garak was Tain’s right hand man in the Order. There relationship was new and built on lies. Julian shook his head ruefully.

"Garak, there's something I've been meaning to discuss with you," Julian began, setting the spoon down and reached for his cup of tea, still hot, as steam curled from the surface.

Garak, intrigued, arched an eye ridge. "Go on, my dear doctor. You know you can always share your thoughts with me," he encouraged, his eyes focused on Julian, waiting for the revelation. There was a knot forming in Garak’s stomach. Equal parts fear and excitement.

Fear because if it was a revelation about the Remnants, he was ever closer to having to decide on whether or not to hand the information to Tain and the Order.

Julian hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "It's about the Prophets and the upcoming debriefing. There's something I haven't told you, and it's been weighing on me," he confessed, sincerity colouring his expression.

"Garak," Julian began, his gaze fixed on the swirling patterns in his coffee, "there are things I cannot tell you about us, Remnants. I can’t divulge our secrets even now,” Julian started, giving Garak a piercing look. “With the Prophet's debriefing approaching, I can't help but worry about the consequences."

Garak, an expert in concealment himself, co*cked his head, encouraging Julian to continue. ‘Consequences? What could he mean’, Garak thought.

"I have secrets that I must maintain, Garak,” Julian said with a sigh. He picked up his tea and took a long drink before continuing.

“Major Kira told me that the Prophets don’t exist in linear time”. Julian’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the glass table. “I fear that if I encounter them, they could discern the most closely held secrets of the Remnants. Secrets that could harm my people if discovered,” Julian confessed, the weight of his words lingering in the air.

Julian looked solemnly at Garak.

Garak, though intrigued, kept his composed exterior. "And you want my advice?” Garak put forward. “On how to keep these secrets from the Prophets,” he surmised, his eyes locking onto Julian's.

Garak’s heart thudded in his chest.

Julian nodded; uncertainty etched across his features. "You're a Cardassian spy, Garak. I know you have a great deal of experience at keeping those secrets,” Julian said quietly.

Garak, for a moment, seemed almost pensive. Watching Julian carefully, a slight frown on his Cardassian features. Then, with a subtle yet genuine smile, he spoke, "My dear Julian, if I was a ‘spy’ as you say and if I was going to go into an uncertain situation, I might contact a superior and ask for instructions,” Garak posited.

He saw Julian’s slight nod of his head. Garak held himself between breaths not wanting to betray his surprise. Garak had been monitoring Julian’s communications since their first meeting hoping to gain useful intelligence.

So far, he had recorded mundane conversations with Julian’s mother. A multitude of medical conferences and a detailed conversation with the infamous Flix who went through ‘A step by step guide’ on how to calibrate the replicators. Useful to be sure. But nothing about the Remnants.

‘So how did Julian contact a higher-up in the Remnant organisation without me knowing?” Garak though while maintaining a genial expression.

“In that case I would wonder if you wanted my actual advice, or just my support?” Garak softly enquired.

Julian seemed to sag in relief at Garak’s words. Blessing Garak with a heartfelt smile. “Let’s just say this superior said they trusted my judgement and that I had two obvious options,” Julian said, the tone of his voice conveying his frustration.

“Let me see. Mmm,” Garak held up a finger. “One, conceal all secrets at all costs”. Holding up a second finger, “two, tell all and throw yourself on the mercy of the aliens and hope they keep your secrets”.

“Yes exactly,” Julian looked into Garak's eyes, searching for the sincerity that often lurked beneath the layers of the Cardassian's persona. "I can't afford to risk the safety of my people, Garak. If these secrets unravel, it could have dire consequences."

Garak leaned forward, his gaze steady. "I understand the delicate nature of your predicament,” he said. “I don’t think you have enough information to make an education guess,” Garak baldly stated. “You are only being briefed today. Sit, listen and observe. Gather as much information as you can”.

Julian leant towards the table and continued to eat his breakfast, a contemplative look on his face. ‘Of course, I know all this’, Julian thought. Yet his stomach roiled. It was rare these days that Julian came across a novel experience. But this encounter could be vital to his people, or was it? Frowning he turned over a new thought in his mind.

Garak drizzled honey on his bread, before taking a bite. It really was amazing how it tasted like the real thing, this Flix really was a genius. He watched Julian while he wrestled with his thoughts. Garak ate in silence, waiting patiently for Julian to reach a conclusion. The subdued lighting throwing the young man’s features into shadow.

Julian polished off his breakfast. He stood and brought his empty plate to the replicator fixed into the wall, to recycle his utensils. Returning to the table he leaned back in his chair, pulled his half full cup towards him, and drank in silence.

“Maybe I am over thinking this? Would it matter if they did find out about my secrets?” Julian mused aloud. “From what the Vedeks have told me, when they communicate with the Prophets they deal in symbolism. Would any of the Bajoran’s understand what the Prophets were telling them? Would they care”.

Garak continued to watch Julian, who appeared to be talking himself around on the subject. “Would the Bajoran’s care if they did understand your secrets? The Bajoran’s don’t hold any prejudices against genetic modification,” Garak said.

“Have you spoken to Major Kira about this?” Garal asked, as he took a sip from his own cup.

Julian smiled at Garak. “I haven’t spoken to her specifically on the subject. She has expressed confusion and some anger over the Federation’s bias on this subject,” Julian admitted.

“Maybe you should just ask the Major or one of the Temple Vedeks?” Garak suggested.

“Forgive me for saying this my dear, but are you sure your secrets would truly be that damaging to the Remnants?” Garak asked tentatively. He couldn’t help but think that Julian could be exaggerating his importance. He was after all only 27.

Julian put his now empty cup on the table, the light above the table making interesting reflections on the tabletop.

Theoretically the most important secrets that Julian held were that he had the ability to be reborn and the Quantum network that the Remnants commanded. Everything else, mortals could work out themselves, if they extrapolated from the knowledge they already had, namely their exceptionally long life spans.

Oh, of course their quantum life force itself. If only Julian really was 27, as he pretended to be, the Prophets wouldn’t be able to tell.

Julian let out a relieved laugh. Leaning over he took Garak’s smooth hand in his. “Thank you for putting my mind at rest,” Julian said sincerely, as his thumb stroked the back of Garak’s hand. “I think, if I just concentrate on being Julian Bashir the 27 year old chief medical officer of Deep Space Nine, they will have no reason to look at me more closely,” Julian said with a smile. “I’ll have a talk with Kira after todays meeting”.

“My pleasure my dear,” Garak simply said. He drank the last sip of his tea and gathered up the dishes to be recycled at the replicator.

Julian lazily watched Garak as he puttered around his quarters from his seat. “I should be free for lunch today, if there are no emergencies,” Julian said with a smile playing about his lips. Eyes sharp. “I am going to the Holodeck with Miles tonight. We are going to compete in the 1920’s Olympics”.

Garak found the bag he liked to use to transport various projects to and from his quarters. Opening it up he checked that all the contents were present. “Olympics, dear?” Garak asked off handedly.

“Yes, a famous and popular sporting even held in Earth’s history,” Julian described with cheer. “We have decided to take part in the ‘Tug-of-war’ event,” Julian waited in anticipation for Garak’s response.

Garak momentarily distracted from his morning activities, looked up in curiosity. "Tug of War, you say? Fascinating. Pray, enlighten me about this peculiar Earthly activity and these... Olympics."

“It’s great two teams of five men, the largest is called the anchor. Both teams hold a rope with a marker in the middle. The purpose of the game is to pull rope until the mark passes over your line,” Julian happily explains.

“And then what happens?”

“That’s it, the game is won”.

Garak stares at Julian in incomprehension, lips parted. ‘How did human’s ever get off their planet?' Garak wondered. “But why?” Garak asked, a plaintive note to his tone.

“It’s a manly show of strength, on the world stage of course. You do it to represent your country,” Julian said, before a sly look went across his face. “Of course, in the ancient Olympics there were awards for poetry too”.

Garak looked at Julian, who was suddenly looking innocent. A sure sign that Garak was about to be the punchline to one of Julian’s ‘oh so funny jokes’. Sighing Garak gave him his line, “Poetry?”

Grinning, “You could stand for Cardassia, and enter one of your Epic poems. See how it fares,” Julian said.

Garak’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How would you ensure impartiality?” despite himself Garak felt intrigued. The historical annuals on Cardassia recorded competitions about poetry too.

Even now there was a modern equivalent. Every decade the Universities across the Empire entered the competition. Putting forth their top student. It was closely followed by hundreds of millions of Cardassian’s.

“Well, there are hundreds of programs to chose from, I am sure there are programs developed to allow alien participation,” Julian says eagerly, sitting up in his seat, resting his arms on the glass top of the table. “If you are genuinely interested, I can ask Flix which would be the best for us?”

His interest was piqued. “You can ask the ever resourceful Flix for a recommendation,” Garak said.

Julian was practically beaming his pleasure at Garak. “Of course, to get the full experience, you would need to participate as the ancient Greeks did,” Julian said, a wide eyed look on his face.

Envisioning some ridiculous outfit, Garak realised that this must be where Julian was aiming the conversation all along. ‘Mmm, how to proceed? What reply would most deflate his joke,' Garak pondered. Looking carefully at Julian, trying to decide how to reply. “Why of course my dear, to ensure an authentic experience. How else would we build a deeper understanding of our cultures”.

Garak’s heart sank as he saw Julian’s positively gleeful expression, excitement barely contained within his slender frame. He made the wrong choice.

“Well, I am surprised Garak at your openness, I always thought of Cardassian’s as rather... Prudish,” Julian’s eyes glittered with silent laughter. “I never expected you to volunteer to perform naked, in front of such a large audience too!”

“Naked!”

“Traditionally the ancient Olympians all competed naked”. Julian slowly blinked his eyes innocently.

Garak was horror struck, his mouth dropping open, his ridges becoming paler. ‘Naked! What insanity was this'. Humans really had a bizarre idea of entertainment.

Julian nearly fell out of his seat; he was laughing so hard. The look on Garak’s face. Julian held his stomach as he roared his merriment and tears streamed from his eyes. Garak looked like a surprised goldfish.

“Really doctor, this juvenile display is unbecoming for a Star Fleet officer,” Garak said haughtily, chin raised, eyes cold. Hoping Julian could see his disdain in his expression.

Julian wiping the tears from his face. “You should have seen your expression,” Julian hiccupped out. Trying to regain control over his breathing.

Garak went about preparing for the day. His motions stiff and choppy. Annoyed Garak realised he was stamping like a child, which was making him more annoyed.

Julian now stood from his chair, looking friendly. “Come now Garak, you know I was only teasing you,” Julian said. He came up to Garak arms open, ready to embrace Garak.

Garak gracefully side stepped Julian’s embrace. Still annoyed at himself for falling in to the younger mans trap. Irrationally Garak was even annoyed that Julian was four centimetres taller than himself. Garak felt Julian’s slender warm hand on his shoulder.

Turning Garak towards him, Julian gently pulled the man into his embrace. “I am sorry for teasing you,” Julian said softly against Garak’s ear. Followed by a tender kiss to the same spot. Julian ran his hands firmly down Garak’s arms, helping to dispel the tension there.

Garak allowed Julian’s tender ministrations.

After a moments hesitation Garak accepted Julian’s embrace and soon returned the doctors kisses.

“Now, I will have to be leaving soon to make my shift at the infirmary,” Julian said as clever fingers stroked the sensitive spot at the back of Garak’s neck.

Garak released Julian, capturing his hand before he could fully move away. “Lunch?” Garak said ats an offer of forgiveness.

Julian smiled warmly, give Garak a brief kiss on the lips. “Yes lunch”.

Julian then set about gathering up his things that he was taking to the infirmary that day.

Before sweeping out the door, Julian gave Garak a final smile. “Well, I am off. Let’s hope my life force doesn’t collapse the wormhole and destroy the Prophets,” Julian said with a jaunty wave, before darting out the door.

Garak stood stock still. ‘What! What life force and destroy the Prophets!' what did Julian mean by that statement. That wasn’t what they had talked about earlier.

Garak hurried over and pulled out his personal data pad from a draw. Quickly opening the device and logging in, he flipped to his notes on the Remnants. He searched for any mention of a ‘life force’ there was no mention of that anywhere.

Holding the pad, while stroking his chin, he went back through the conversation he and Julian had, had that morning. Julian had definitely been worrying about the Prophets since he heard of the debriefing. ‘Could it be about this mysterious life force and not his secrets that had him concerned?'

Even if Julian and the Remnants had a life force how would this interfere with the wormhole?

‘Dammit,’ Garak thought as he realised the time. He didn’t have time to do any research now, he needed to get to his shop.

Quickly shutting down the pad, he shoved it back into the draw where he stored it.

Throwing his eye about the room, making sure this quarters were tidy, before he left for work.

Debrief

“You are dismissed Lieutenant,” Commander Sisko states firmly.

“Yes Sir” Julian acknowledges formally, before standing from his seat and marching from the room.

The automatic doors swish shut behind him.

Ben rubbed his forehead; he was still uneasy about having the young Remnant on board the station. From his own observations and reports from the other medical staff on board the doctor was good at his job, maybe even exceptional.

Ben couldn’t help but think the young man as being sly and manipulative. Just look at how he was pretending to have an interest in Bajoran religion, always at the Temple and talking to the Vedek’s. So that Bashir gained information on the Bajoran’s and the wormhole.

Ben knew it would be a political disaster if he demanded that Bashir stop attending the Temple. He wasn’t unaware of the tension between the Bajoran’s and Star fleet officers on the Station. Especially when it came to their religion. There had already been some complaints about how the wormhole and Prophets were being taught in school.

But perversely Major Kira seemed to think Bashir was genuine in his interest and even championed him being debriefed on the aliens. Ben shook his head, he didn’t think the major would fall for such blatant flimflam.

This irked Ben.

To him this was the proof that Bashir was manipulating the Bajoran’s.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead to relieve the tension, pressing his thumbs against his temples.

His old friend Dax, seemed to tolerate the young man, while thinking him brash, arrogant and irritating. At least the doctor had given up his inappropriate pursuit of the attractive Trill officer.

Ben scowled now at the reason Bashir had stopped chasing Dax. Garak. He couldn’t believe the young man was as foolish to take up with the unknown Cardassian. True it was never proven that the Cardassian was a spy. But he was hardly trustworthy, and it was particularly impolitic to take up with an enemy of the current rulers of the station.

He wishes he could go back in time and change his response to the young officer when he reported his first meeting with the Cardassian. Bashir was so desperate for attention as he bounced around the command center. He lost his chance to warn him off the man.

Ben sighed. Leaning back in his chair he ran his hands over his hair as he wrestled with his conflicting thoughts on the young man.

As the chief medical officer on board the station, it was necessary for him to be fully informed on the aliens, the wormhole and everything they found in the Gamma Quadrant. But he couldn’t help the chill that run down his spine.

He looked out through the glass panels in his office. He could see Julian animatedly talking to his chief engineer. Hands gesticulating wildly as he expounded on whatever point he was making.

This caused Ben to frown again. The Chief also seemed to like the young Remnant. When asked about it the Chief admitted that the man talked too much. But he was fun, he was knowledgeable and a particularly good racket ball player.

The two men found a common ground in their physical exploits on the holodecks, darts, and beer in Quarks bar.

Ben had assumed with his gruff and serious nature, that Chief O’Brien would be the last person to bond with Remnant.

Ben watched coolly as the lieutenant bounded out of ops, with a brief wave for those staying at their stations, as he sank out of view.

It was done now; Doctor Bashir had been briefed on the wormhole and the aliens. He just hoped that they wouldn’t all come to regret it.

Sighing, Ben pulled his pad towards him, clearing his mind as he prepared to settle down to complete the myriad of administration tasks, as the Commander of the Station he handled.

Conversation with Kira

Nerys tapped her foot rapidly on the floor while she was standing outside the Temple on the Promenade deck. Every few seconds she would look up and down the wide thoroughfare looking for Julian.

Julian had his debriefing with the commander earlier in the day. After his meeting with Sisko, he had asked if they could meet after her shift.

Just then she caught a glimpse of Bashir’s curly hair above the crowd on the promenade. She refused to tiptoe to get a better look, as it was not a dignified action for a woman in her position on the Station.

“What took you so long?” She said briskly as Julian finally approached.

Julian frowned slightly look at a nearby chrono display. “It’s 18:15. That’s the time we said we would meet,” Julian explained looking puzzled. He had perfect recall and knew this was the time they said they would meet.

Nerys’s brow was furrowed as she gave the doctor an annoyed look. “I thought you might be early,” she said impatiently. “Let’s go in”.

Turning on her heel she practically marched into the Temple, Julian close on her heels.

As soon as she entered the familiar dark space, she began to feel the stress leave her body. She took two deep breaths; the incense soothingly enveloped her, reminding her of home. Arms outstretched she made the traditional salutation to the Prophets.

Julian followed suit, making his own salutation.

More relaxed now, Nerys gestured for Julian to follow her to a secluded alcove, a common feature in the various Temples of the Prophets. These alcoves provided sanctuaries for spiritual conversations, where people could gather to meet and discuss matters of faith. Within these dark secluded spaces, large brightly coloured cushions in red, yellow, or orange were scattered on top of deep piled rugs. Suitable for people to sit and lounge as they indulged in conversations.

Such spaces held particular significance in the wake of the Cardassian occupation. During that oppressive time, the Cardassian’s looked to eradicate these sacred areas, considering them hubs for sedition or clandestine gatherings. However, with the occupation finally ended, the Bajoran people could once again embrace the freedom to utilise and cherish these places of spiritual solace.

Nerys got straight down to business. “Do you have more questions about the Prophets?” Nerys questioned.

Julian smiled at Nerys; he liked her. She was always to the point, passionate about politics and religion. She also cared a great deal about her people. “The commander filled me on the mission about the Prophets who live in the wormhole. But he didn’t confide in me any of his personal experiences,” Julian started slowly.

Nerys gave a curt nod indicating Julian should get on with it.

Sighing, “Well you now know about the prejudices the Federation hold for my people,” Julian said.

Nerys scowled again. She didn’t agree with the Federation stance on the Remnants nor did Bajor. “Yes, I know”.

“My people have experienced a lot of discrimination in one way or another for centuries”. Julian wanted to make the discrimination Remnants faced clear for the Major. “We can be killed and have been in the past. Sometimes by people pretending to be our friends” Julian said trusting Nerys with this information. Over the last two months he has gotten to know the Major and feels he can trust the other woman.

“That our weakness, has been used to murder us, non-combatants I mean,” Julian said quietly, the sadness on his face clear from the downturn of his lips and his lowered eyes.

Nerys’s face softened at hearing this; she too knew the pain of innocents being killed in a conflict not of their making. In an unusual move for the taciturn woman, she reached out and patted Julian on the arm in understanding and solidarity.

“From everything I have heard, the Prophets are able to see my past and future”. Julian glanced up at Nerys’ eyes. “I am concerned that the Prophets will see this secret. It’s just that Commander Sisko is the Emissary and I worry…” Julian finished softly.

“And your concerned that due to Sisko’s obvious prejudice against you, that if he discovers this secret, he will tell the Federation?” Nerys surmised.

Julian simply nodded.

Nerys didn’t answer straight away. She wanted to think about this first. She closed her eyes, slowed her breaths, the scent of incense enveloped her, and she let her mind drift back to her encounter with the Prophets.

Julian, a patient man, calmly watched Nerys as she slowly entered a meditative state. While she was meditating Julian decided to perform one of the many techniques, he knew to centre the mind and calm the body. This method involved Julian concentrating on each part of his body, starting with his toes and fully engaged his senses and cataloguing all the sensations he felt at that moment.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Julian remained oblivious to Nerys emerging from her own meditative state. This obliviousness served as a testament to the profound sense of security he felt within this sacred haven. It was an unsurprising sentiment, given that Remnants, by strict tradition, were forbidden from desecrating any holy space, irrespective of their personal beliefs.

Although Julian didn't adhere to a belief in a singular Earth deity, he held a deep respect for others' rights to their sincere faiths. His tolerance, however, didn't extend to those who exploited religion to harm others or wielded it as a tool for domination and power. Having seen the destructive consequences of such blind devotion, Julian couldn't turn a blind eye to such abuses.

Nerys silently watched Julian, his eyes opened but unfocused, obviously deep in his own meditation. She was very sceptical at Julian’s interest in her religion when she first noticed him coming to the Temple so often. Especially as she had already experienced negative encounters with Star Fleet condescending superiority. Enough to put Nerys’s teeth on edge.

She expected the same from Julian. But from the first he showed respectful curiosity. Asking insightful questions, never turning his nose up at the more mystical aspects of her religion. Even acting surprised when she expressed her unhappiness at the Federations response to her religion. With a confused ‘Why? You have actual proof your deities exist?' not understanding how anyone could deny the existence of the Prophets.

When it looked, like Julian wasn’t going to come back on his own accord, Nerys reached out her hand and gently squeezed Julian’s forearm. “Julian,” she softly called.

With a single blink, Julian was fully alert again. Smiling his thanks to Nerys.

Nerys got straight to the point. “I have looked at my own experiences with the Prophets. I am not an expert. But they don’t experience the universe the same as we do,” Nerys said thoughtfully, her mind turned inwards. “Time doesn’t seem to exist for them, the same was as for us or death,” said Nerys while looking at Julian, gauging his response. “I am not sure even if they saw you dying or another Remnant in your memories, if they would understand what they were seeing,” she said with a reflective look in her dark eyes.

“And frankly you are not that important to the universe. I hardly think they are going to pay special attention to you,” Nerys stated honestly. But she caught that slight wince when she said ‘important’, causing a slight frown to her brow.

She looked more closely at Julian now, but his face was calm, neutral. She knew the other man had secrets; he had told her as much. She gave Julian a considering look. ‘Could the Remnants have importance to the Prophets?' she wondered. Nerys decided that she would have to meditate on the subject some more.

“As I said I am not an expert. If you have questions why not go directly to Vedek Meran,” Nerys suggested.

“Yes, maybe you are correct. I was hoping you might have some personal insight in the matter as you have personally been to the Celestial Temple,” Julian said with a sigh. “Thank you for your time, Nerys, I know you have plans for this evening,” Julian said offering a warm smile in thanks.

Nerys nodded her acceptance of his thanks and stood from their alcove. She was meeting Jadzia from dinner and didn’t want to be late. “Speak to Vedek Meran,” she reiterated with a raised brow, before darting out of the Temple, leaving Julian to his silent contemplations.

Further Meditations

Julian continued to wrestle with his doubts. The darkness and scent of burning incense, with the gently sound of trickling water in the background, provided a hypnotic atmosphere, perfect for getting lost in his thoughts.

“Brother Julian!”

Broken from his thoughts Julian turns his head to look at the lined face of Vedek Meran, a studious man Julian had enjoyed many philosophical and theological discussions with him since being posted to the station.

“Vedek Meran,”

“I can’t help but notice that you seem to be struggling with an issue. Can I join you?” He respectfully asks.

Julian smiles at the man. “Yes please. Am I that obvious?” Julian enquires.

“Well, it did seem that you and the Major were in a deep discussion. It didn’t seem to be resolved...” said Vedek Meran as he sat down on a plump orange pillow.

Julian sighed.

“I know we have spoken many times since I came to the station. But are you able to hold this conversation in confidence?” Julian as softly, his keen gaze watching the Vedek’s face.

“Yes, we can talk confidentially on all subjects except for those where I think you might harm yourself or harm others. Then it is my sacred duty to inform the authorities,” Vedek Meran replied solemnly.

Julian nodded.

The silence stretching out between the two men. Vedek Meran sat quietly hands folded and resting in his lap. Waiting for the young Star Fleet officer to gather his troubled thoughts.

“You understand that I am not human, like many of my fellow Star Fleet officers, here on the station,” Julian questioned.

“Yes, I have heard that you are genetically engineered,” Vedek Meran confirmed.

“Yes, we’re genetically engineered to be soldiers thousands of years ago. We were abandoned by our makers on Earth, almost from the beginning of our existence,” Julian said gravely, unconsciously biting his bottom lip. Fidgeting slightly in his seat.

“We developed our own society separate from the humans we shared our planet with. For our own safety we rarely share these aspects of our culture with outsiders,” Julian said. Watching the Vedek carefully, gauging if he understood the seriousness of the matter.

“You need to share some of these aspects with me regarding the trouble you are working through?” stated Vedek Meran with equal seriousness.

Julian smiled with relief. “I have three concerns with interacting with Prophets when I am required to go through the wormhole,” Julian began.

"I harbour concerns about the Prophets having insight into my secrets, particularly the vulnerabilities that could lead to the harm of my people," Julian's gaze weighed with these anxieties. Leaning in towards the Vedek, he conducted a thorough sweep of the room, ensuring their conversation remained private. "Nerys is of the opinion that the Prophets might not comprehend the nature of what they witness, and I am concerned that they could inadvertently disclose this information to someone who possesses the understanding to exploit it."

Vedek Meran leant back in to the cushions surrounding him, allowing time to gather his thoughts on this matter.

“The Prophets have always communicated to us using imagery that is only significant to the person receiving the vision,” Vedek Meran clarified, with a slightly puzzled look on his face. “Forgive me for asking you this, but why do you think the Prophets would be interested in you?”

Julian runs both hands through his hair, ‘how can I explain this to an outsider?” Julian scrubs his face with his hands, preparing to speak.

“We are a long lived race,” Julian said.

Vedek Meran nodded, he had the sensation of his skin prickling, something he has only experienced when he had been allowed to interact with one of their Sacred Orbs. He noticed his heart rate pick-up. He surreptitiously wiped his now damp palms on his robes.

“In my society I am what is known as a Fulcrum,” Julian said. “This is a person who witnesses history. Not because I am an historian, but because wherever I go these large history changing events occur,” Julian carefully explained, he seemed to vibrate with tension.

“It might be that one Remnant is always meeting this or that young poet who will be pivotal to their art or another Fulcrum might be hired to work for a scientist, who has a groundbreaking breakthrough”.

“So not the person who makes the breakthrough but the person who witnesses it?” Said Vedek Meran, a spark of interest ignited in his breast. With a hand he gestures for Julian to continue. He wonders what these Fulcrums must have seen and now one was in Bajoran space.

“And I have been identified as someone who witnesses war”.

Vedek Meran jerks back. “War! Are you sure?” he whispers, pale faced.

“I am positive. I am not seer; I cannot predict the future. But with the sudden appearance of the wormhole, just as I arrived in the area…”

“You think the wormhole and the Prophets is a portent of War”. This was much more serious than he expected. Looking at Julian now, he could tell that the young man absolutely believed that there was a coming war. “And you think the Prophets will cause this war?” He said doubtfully.

“No, no, you misunderstood me,” Julian hurriedly soothed the other man. “War in my experience is always fought over resources,” Julian said.

“Yes… that is my experience too,” Vedek Meran thought back to the occupation, where the Cardassians had stripped precious resources from Bajor. “And the wormhole is a vital resource now,” Vedek Meran pondered allowed, rubbing his hands together.

“My concern is that I will attract the Prophets because I am fulcrum. A nexus point in time. From my understanding the Prophets have a unique relationship with time,” Julian said. He leant back in his seat and silently waited for the Vedek’s thoughts on the matter.

“I see why you might be concerned,” Vedek Meran said. He looked off into the distance, gathering his thoughts, experience and knowledge of the Prophets. He drummed his fingers on the soft rug beneath him.

Looking back at Julian, the man was back to normal calmness, hardly moving while waiting for his response. “I still don’t think you have anything to worry about. In my experience I see people I know in my visions. But they are not representing the person themselves, but a conduit the Prophets use to help express an idea,” Vedek Meran grappled with the language to express such a subjective subject.

Stroking his brow for a moment before continuing. “So, if I saw you in a vision, it wouldn’t because they want to show me something about Julian Bashir. But because you and I have had many interesting conversations, in this Temple”.

Julian leaned forward eager to capture every word the Vedek was telling him. Listening intently while his pulse raced.

“But because you stand for a safe space to discuss theological theory. If I was having a conflict in my faith or life they might communicate with me in the form of Major Kira,” the Vedek said.

“Because she is a source of passion, and conflict herself,” Julian said thoughtfully. Starting to see what Vedek Meran and Nerys were trying to convey to him earlier.

The two men relaxed back into silence and warmth of the dark space they were cocooned in. The faintest of vibrations from the station coming up through the floor plates.

Julian was feeling more at ease with the ideas of the Prophets. The tension in his body slowly draining from his limbs. It now seemed unlikely that the Prophets would understand or care about his people’s secrets. As they didn’t seem to understand linear time, they might not even realise that Julian was much older than any of the other species they met. ‘Maybe I should ask Dax about her experiences with the Prophets,' Julian pondered.

Of course, they might not be able to sense Julian was a reborn being at all. ‘I won’t really know if the Prophets have any interest in me, until I go through the wormhole. Maybe I am worrying needlessly,' Julian comforted himself.

“You said you had a third question?” Said Vedek Meran, breaking through Julian’s contemplations.

Julian silently looked at the Vedek. He took a deep breath; he had already trusted the Vedek with more of his secrets then anyone else on board the station.

Julian took a deep breath, preparing to divulge a secret that went beyond the realms of genetic engineering. "Vedek Meran, I appreciate your understanding thus far, but there's another layer to my existence that goes beyond mere genetics. It's something we call a 'Quantum Life Force.'"

Vedek Meran furrowed his brow, a mixture of curiosity and confusion on his face. "Quantum Life Force? I must confess, Brother Julian, this is unfamiliar territory for me. Could you elaborate?"

Julian nodded, choosing his words carefully. "It's a fundamental aspect of our being. This Quantum Life Force is intricately connected to the fabric of space-time. It grants me abilities like rapid healing and an extended lifespan. However, it also means that I'm somehow entwined with the very essence of the universe on a quantum level."

The Vedek's eyes widened with intrigue. "Entwined with the essence of the universe? That sounds profound, Brother Julian. How does this Quantum Life Force manifest in your daily life?"

Julian sighed, struggling with the challenge of conveying such a complex concept. "We all have an autobiographical memory, for one, we remember every single second of our lives and we can revisit any memory, at any time, as if we were there again” Julian said.

Vedek Meran frowned, exceptional memories didn’t seem that special to him, He personally knew at least three people who had such extraordinary memories.

Julian softly chuckled at the Vedek’s expression. “It doesn’t matter how old we are. 30 or 3000 years old. We remember, every. Single. Second. Every sound, smell, touch”.

Julian had a wistful look on his face as he gently looked at the Vedek for understanding.

“Ooh!” It was dawning on Vedek Meran what a burden this might be. He thought back to the occupation. To the sights he witnessed. His memories were even now becoming hazy. But to this day he would catch the scent of smoke and his stomach will roil with such force he thinks he might vomit. Thinking this now, he felt his heartbeat hard in his chest. An ice cold sweat broke out on his skin.

Julian’s doctors eye immediately notices the change in the other man’s complexion, from his usual tan to chalky white. Reaching out Julian takes the Vedek’s ice cold hands in his own. “Vedek Meran,” Julian starts talking in a light warm voice. “You are safe. You are in the Temple on Deep space Nine,” Julian repeated like a mantra, stroking the backs of the Vedek’s hands. Anchoring him and warming his hands.

Julian kept up his patient ministrations until he sensed the other man returning to himself.

Vedek Meran became aware of his body again, realising he was holding Julian Bashir’s hands. Julian was looking at him with concern, a faint wrinkle above the bridge of his smooth nose.

Vedek Meran pulled back his hands, gripping them tightly in his lap. The weight of the shared intensity lingered in the air, and he felt a mix of emotions—shame, vulnerability, and an unaccountable sting of tears.

“My apologies Brother Julian,” he said, dropping his chin to his chest, avoiding Julian’s gaze.

“It is I who should apologise Vedek Meran,” Julian said, tone contrite and a shadow behind his eyes. “I did not mean to cause you harm,” Julian said, with a faint smile about his lips, face soft, as any good doctors should be for a valued patient.

“Does that happen often?”

The Vedek shook his head firmly, not yet able to form words.

“Would you like to come to the infirmary, and I can give you an examination?” Julian said.

Vedek shook his head firmly, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes, while he grappled with control over his emotions.

Julian could see the struggle the other man was having. “One moment please”.

Gracefully standing so as not to jostle the other man, Julian hurried to the private alcove where the Temples replicator was stored. He replicated a pot of Juniper Tea, two delicate cups and a small dish of Jelly Babies. With steady hands he balanced his bounty and returned to the Vedek.

Julian was glad to see his skin tone was starting to normalise. The Vedek was mid-way through a breathing exercise that Julian was familiar with. Sitting back down on the plush cushion. He carefully set out the accoutrements for their impromptu tea party.

In an instant he was swept back to one of his earliest memories, he sees a pair of sparkling blue eyes, laughing with him. He hears the howl of wind, and the tent walls snap. Smoke and incense burn his nose. And a laughing man. For a moment Julian feels a stab to the heart, an ache so deep, for a moment he can not breath.

With a blink he is back in the here and now.

“I miss spoke earlier,” Julian starts in a hushed whisper. “Not every memory is captured. Only those memories from our adulthood, so around 25 or 27 years old,” Julian said, a crack in his voice. “Those half remembered memories from my youth are always out just out of reach”.

Julian remembers the choking feeling of dirt in his mouth, as he struggles against the shroud wrapping his bodily tightly. The raising panic and terror, as he fought to breath. The sudden relief as a warm hand uncovered his face. Blinking in bright morning sunlight. Looking up into the compassionate face of Ben, his oldest friend as he pulled him from his own grave. The moment when his life started anew.

“But I had a lover in my youth. A man I loved above all others. I often wish to see his face one last time, so that I may remember him perfectly for all of time,” Julian said. Looking to Vedek Meran to see if his words had helped him regain his composure.

“Do you ever curse your memory?” Vedek looked on Julian, his expression between hope and despair.

Julian slowly smiled at the other man, with a look of such profound joy.

“Never: if I gave up my horrors, I would have to give up my treasures too”.

“Here have some tea, many a trouble can be solved with a cup of tea shared with a friend,” Julian smiled warmly at the Vedek as he pushed a teacup closer to the other man.

“I even brought you an earth delicacy, filled with sugar, beneficial after an upset”. Julian indicated the dish filled with multi-coloured jellies.

“They are a fruit flavoured jelly sweet called ‘Jelly Babies’. Garak was horrified when I showed them to him,” Julian said grinning, his eyes full of humour.

Vedek Meran raised a single brow, at this unlikely story. Though he appreciated Julian’s efforts in presenting his ‘bogeyman’ as being ridiculous. It was difficult to fear that what you perceived as absurd.

Vedek Meran took a sip of the spicy tea and reached out and took a green sweet. He chewed thoughtfully, absorbing the full flavour of the treat. It was both sour and sweet and somehow tasted green.

Julian took three of the Jelly Babies and popped them in his mouth, in quick secession. Smiling happily at the other man as he chewed them.

“You were telling me about your life force?” said Vedek Meran, calm once again.

“We don’t have to finish our conversation, if you would prefer to meditate,” said Julian, concern showing on his face.

“No, no, I am fully recovered from my relapse. Please continue, you seemed to think it was important,” said the Vedek, with a smile and gesture of his broad hand for Julian to continue with his story.

“Well, our memories are one way we are influenced by our Quantum Life Force. The other way is…” Julian leans closer to the Vedek and drops his voice to an even lower volume. “When we are old and have built up enough experience, we are able to create personal,” Julian stops again, for one more sweep of the dark room. “Wormholes…”

Vedek Meran gasps, hand darting to his throat in shock, eyes wide. His eyes too, dart around the Temple. “Wormholes?” his voice hushed.

Julian nods his head once.

Julian's gaze focused; the weight of responsibility evident in his eyes. "I fear that the Prophets, in their non-linear existence, might perceive my Quantum Life Force. I worry it might disrupt the delicate balance they maintain within the wormhole."

Vedek Meran pondered for a moment before responding, "Brother Julian, this is indeed a profound revelation. I appreciate your trust in sharing such sacred knowledge."

“I have discussed this aspect with Remnant scientists, and they theorise that as long as I remain shielded when I travel through the wormhole that the Prophets should remain safe, as well as those I travel with”.

“But you see the moral quandary I am in?” Julian said.

Vedek Moran has an ‘A-ha!’ look on his face, as he contemplates the difficult position Julian finds himself in. “You cannot know for sure if you will harm the Prophets,” said Vedek Meran, understanding why Julian came to him.

“I was hoping you could speak with your experts on the Prophets in your Temple. Or even ask the Prophets using one of the Orbs,” Julian said.

“Your own experts believe if you shield, that no harm will come to the Prophets, tell me more about this shield?” Said Vedek Meran, looking closely at Julian, wanting to gauge the man’s sincerity.

“I always shield my life force, as others can feel uncomfortable in my presence. It will probably be easiest if I just show you if I have your permission?” Julian said, returning the Vedek’s gaze frankly. Julian sees the Vedek nod his consent.

Closing his eyes and resting his hands on his knees, Julian first centres himself. Concentrating on his breath. He reaches deep down inside of himself until he can touch the throbbing, fizzing, powerful life force inside him. The familiar scent of ozone fills his nostrils.

Taking another deep breath, he holds it. He allows a single flickering tendril loose from his centre. The tendril licks against the Bajoran in front of him, tasting his own unique signature in the quantum field connecting all things in the material and quantum universe.

Julian opens his eyes so he can monitor Vedek Meran, to ensure that he is not overcome by the sensation. He watches as the other man shivers at the contact, but he doesn’t recoil, as humans usually do when they experience this unique force within all Remnants for the first time.

Julian pulls back his energy with ease and Vedek Meran untenses.

Vedek Meran licks his suddenly dry lips and calmly looks at the alien across from him. No different from the moment before but somehow at the same time different too. This was something he would need to meditate on.

“That was an unusual experience… and you can control your shields at all times, even when you are asleep?” Said Vedek Meran.

“Even if I am unconscious,” confirmed Julian seriously.

“Just one more thing,” Julian says.

“Yes!”

“Our wormholes can only travel between two Remnants. Either I travel there, or they travel to me. I cannot for instance create my own wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant. Also, it is a personal wormhole, a person can travel through it but not say a shuttle”. Julian explained, to tamper any expectations.

The statement was not exactly true, but true enough for this conversation. Ben thought if Julian managed to leave his key in the Gamma Quadrant, he would have sufficient energy to generate a wormhole there.

Furthermore, if there was ever a need for an evacuation of the station, he didn’t want any unrealistic plans formulated, where Julian magically rescued everyone.

“This is one of the reasons our scientist doesn’t think I will harm the Prophets wormhole. As relatively, my power level would be miniscule in comparison,” Julian explained.

“Ah! I see. This is a conundrum,” Vedek Meran said, as he anxiously rubbed his brow. Julian’s logic seemed reasonable, but he wasn’t a physicist or a Kai.

“I would be pleased if you discussed this with others in your order, if you can maintain my confidentiality,” Julian said. “I will abide by the decision of the temple”.

Upon hearing Julian's revelation, Vedek Meran was taken aback. The profound trust Julian was placing in him, coupled with the spiritual weight of the Prophets' involvement, left the Vedek deeply moved. With a sense of humility, Vedek Meran bowed his head in acknowledgment of the sacred trust bestowed upon him. A lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to swallow as he contemplated the respect Julian was showing not just to him, but to Bajor and the Prophets.

"Thank you for your unwavering trust, Brother Julian. I will dedicate myself to ensuring that I am worthy of such a sacred responsibility," Vedek Meran said solemnly, his voice carrying the weight of the moment.

Julian nodded, a small but appreciative smile on his lips. "I appreciate your guidance on this matter. I won't proceed through the wormhole until I hear back from you."

The exchange concluded with a sense of shared understanding and a commitment to navigate the intricate web of faith, trust, and cosmic mysteries that lay ahead.

Julian rose from his seat, respectfully engaging in the traditional farewell gestures customary upon leaving a Bajoran temple. With a sense of purpose, he swiftly made his way to meet Chief O'Brien, embarking on their anticipated journey to the Olympics.

Left alone, Vedek Meran found himself in the quiet embrace of his meditations. His thoughts echoed with the resonance of Julian's revelations, the delicate balance between trust and protection of his people and the Prophets. As he contemplated the path ahead, uncertainty lingered in the air like incense smoke, intertwining with the sacred knowledge he now held.

***

Chapter 11: Away Mission

Chapter Text

Julian was in the brightly lit infirmary; the scent of ozone stung his nose from the recent sterilisation cycle. His portable med kit opened in front of him as he rechecked the contents ready for his first away mission through the wormhole.

A 6 hour round trip, where they were going to do a biological survey of a nearby planet that had an interesting rain forest. The search for novel antibacterials was always of import.

“Nurse Carter, have you seen my antivenin generator?” Julian said, as he rifled through the med kit.

“It’s right there, Doctor,” Nurse Carter said as she pointed out the silver coloured tool already in the med-kit.

“Ah yes, thank you Nurse,” Julian said with a chagrined look. He pulled out his dermal regenerator and check the charge again, the device was full. Opening the settings, he ensured it had the correct parameters for Bajoran’s and joined Trill physiologies. ‘Maybe I should add some physical dressings, just in case,” Julian thought as he headed to the medical replicator.

Doctor Jabra caught Julian’s hand before he could finalise his order. “Doctor Bashir, remember the shuttle has emergency supplies as well,” Doctor Jabra gently reminded him. Stepping slightly closer to the anxious young man, “I think you are making the other medical staff nervous,” she said in a hushed tone.

Julian darted his eye’s around looking at the nurse and med-tech, he noticed the indicators of anxiousness, tightness across the shoulders, tension in the face. “Oh! Yes of course,” Julian said, dropping his hand away from the machine.

“Maybe you should head to the Command Center to meet your team members for the away mission?” Doctor Jabra suggested firmly.

Checking the Chrono in the room, he had fifteen minutes before departing the station. Looking back at the older looking doctor, it was clear that his presence in the infirmary was disturbing their shift. “You’re right of course, I should be heading to the shuttle bay,” Julian said with a weak smile at the other doctor.

Striding back to the bench, with a final check of its contents he closed the med-kit. Slinging the strap over his shoulder, he waved goodbye to his colleagues. Stomach turning. He stepped from the room.

Out on the Promenade Julian paused and took several calming breaths before heading to the shuttle bay.

“Doctor!”

Julian jerked his head in the direction of the call and sighed in relief as he saw Garak weaving through the afternoon crowd. “Garak,” Julian called and waved, unaccountable relieved to see the other man. Smiling warmly when Garak reached him. Holding up his hand for the traditional greeting, making contact for several seconds, appropriate for intimate friends.

“My dear I thought I would escort you to the shuttle bay as we have to forgo our usual lunch date,” Garak said with a smile. It had been a month since Julian had confided in him about his concerns about going through wormhole and possibly meeting the Prophets.

After Julian had his conversations with Major Kira and Vedek Meran, he had seemed to be at ease again with the wormhole. But as soon as this mission was scheduled a week ago, Julian’s anxiety had resurfaced.

“I have brought you lunch from ‘Celestial Spice’ to enjoy on your away mission,” Garak told him, indicating the small box he was holding. “The equivalent to a Bajoran sandwich, I believe”.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the kind gesture. “Thank you, Garak” Julian said with warmth, his smile broad and eyes soft. Julian took the box reverently and put it in the med-kit for his afternoon snack. Even though he was a Remnant and could practically eat anything he liked, his stomach had been so queasy that morning he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of eating.

The two men strolled through the station towards the shuttle bay. They discussed Garak’s progress with Syntara, as they passed through the bustling promenade deck on to the less populated corridors to the shuttle bay. Garak expressed his frustration with the fictional language. And admitted that he was able to find a copy of the translation on the net.

Julian scolded him, telling him he was missing out part of the fun of the graphic novels.

Garak just scowled at the Julian, “I don’t see what the point of learning a fictional language is”. Garak then turned a scrutinising look at Julian, “and how are your foray’s in Cardassian going?” Garak pointedly asked.

“Oh, I am just using the universal translator,” Julian says jovially, knowing it would annoy Garak, before grinning at the other man.

Garak was pretty much spluttering at this reply when they reached the doors to the shuttle bay. This part of the station filled had lower light intensity, throwing the space in to shadows. Julian couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in colours underling the Cardassian architecture, this time a subtle green was the predominate colour represented in the décor.

“Looks like we are the first ones here,” Julian said, the humour of a moment ago forgotten.

Julian unconsciously started transferring his weight from one foot to the other.

Garak noticing the return of Julian anxiousness, ran his hand soothingly down Julian’s arm and took hold of Julian’s surprisingly cool hand. co*cking his head, Garak looks at Julian, with a worried frown on his face.

Julian steps close to Garak and wraps him in an embrace. Startled by the unusual action, Garak freezes for a second before he brings his arms up and returns the embrace.

The low light of the corridor throws the two men into the shadows, only the faint hum of the station in the background.

“I don’t know why I am reacting this way,” Julian said into Garak’s neck.

Julian's warm breath tickling the skin below Garak’s ear. Garak gently strokes Julian’s shoulder in comfort. He is uncertain what else he can do to comfort the young man. “I thought your conversations with the Vedek helped to put your mind at ease?” Garak said hoping for some sort of indication of what he should do to help the young doctor.

“I did, it did,” Julian said giving Garak a tighter squeeze. “It’s just I have never experienced anything like the wormhole or the Prophets before”.

“But Julian in the last four months since the wormhole was discovered there have been many ships which have passed through from both directions without any accidents or harmful effects,” Garak said not a hundred percent sure if logic will help Julian in this situation. Julian was such a logical person, a scientist, he must know these things.

“It’s been so long since I had a truly novel experience. I suppose it is because of the unknown, I have no reference point,” Julian said. Julian continued to stand in Garak’s embrace, breathing the other man in. Letting the scent of Red Leaf Tea, the scent of the oil Garak used on his skin sooth him. Focusing on the scent and his heartbeat, consciously trying to calm himself down.

‘A novel experience, a long time?' What can Julian mean, he is only 27 years old. Surely nearly all experiences to the young man were novel?’ Garak frowned as he contemplated Julian’s comment, puzzled at the meaning of his words. Obviously with how nervous the young man had shown himself to be, Julian must believe his words.

All Garak could do was allow the man to stand in his embrace and stroke his back.

Julian was physically only 27 years old, and his emotions still had several years to go before they stabilised. But still, he was angry with himself for having such a strong reaction to this away mission. My God! He had literally fought Khan! And he hadn’t felt like this, then he was calm and resolute. He had even talked to Ben, extensively. Ben had reassured him that he and the physicists looking at the Prophets and how they generated their wormhole, didn’t think anything dangerous would happen just from a Remnant passing through it.

Julian knew he had told Vedek Meran that he wasn’t a seer, and he wasn’t, not exactly. But thinking of the wormhole and travelling to the Gamma Quadrant filled him with dread. He had a perfect memory, and he didn’t recall ever feeling like this before. He hugged Garak closer, moving his hand up to the nape of his neck, where he could touch the silky soft hair there.

“Lieutenant!” Snapped a commanding voice.

Julian sprang out of Garak’s arms, his face hot from being caught in such a compromising position.

Major Kira and Lieutenant Dax where briskly striding down the corridor towards them.

Dax unconsciously scowled at the two men, not so subtly showing her disapproval at such a bold display when Julian was still on duty.

Major Kira was more neutral in her expression as she walked up to the two men. She in no way approved of Bashir’s and Garak’s relationship. She also thought it was none of her business. Besides, she of all the crew was probably the only member who knew just how worried Julian was about going through the wormhole. He had certainly told her enough times, she frowned at the thought.

“Ah, Major Kira and Lieutenant Dax. Garak, here was just walking me to the shuttle bay as we would be missing our usual lunch date,” ‘Oh god, now I am babbling. Get a grip of yourself man!' Julian gave an overly wide grin at his two superior officers.

Garak looked on in dismay. “Good afternoon Major Kira and you too Lieutenant Dax,” Garak said politely. “I thought I would have a stretch of the legs during my lunch period and escort the good Doctor to the shuttle bay at the same time,” Garak said, sharing a charming and totally non-threatening smile with the two women. Garak couldn’t help but notice that Julian was practically vibrating out of his skin.

Garak reached out and took a firm grip of Julian’s upper arm, hoping he would ground the younger man.

Julian bounced on his toes. “Yes, yes, I am already for the away mission. I have my med-kit and everything we could possibly need,” Julian Eagerly said, holding up his med-kit like a child would to their teacher. Julian’s face burned when he noticed Nerys’s pitying look, while Dax looked like she was trying not to curl her lip in disgust.

‘Oh dear!' Garak thought as he smiled warmly at Julian as he held his hand up in farewell. Julian’s face was flushed red as he returned the gesture, more quickly now he was under the gaze of Dax and Nerys. “Good by my dear, I will see you these evenings in Quarks and you can tell me all about it,” Garak said as he stepped away from Julian.

Major Kira swiftly stepped up to the keypad and entered the security code for entrance to the shuttle bay. The heavy duty door rolled back with a clunk. The Major then indicated for Julian to precede her into the room.

Lieutenant Dax looked sternly at Garak as he turned away and started to walk down the corridor. It was only when the Cardassian had moved away from the door that Dax turned and followed the Doctor and Major to the awaiting shuttle.

*^*

Bright light illuminated the interior of the shuttle. Not the most spacious of the standard Star Fleet shuttle. But perfectly suited to a six hour away mission.

“Life support at 100%, Major,” Julian said, as he efficiently went through the shuttles life support system, flicking between screens, checking all readouts were in the green zone.

“Acknowledged,” Major Kira said as she flipped through her own readouts as the team of three prepped the shuttle for take-off.

Lieutenant commander Dax, as the senior science officer on board was monitoring the engineering and science stations for their mission.

“I trust I don’t have to remind you Doctor Bashir, not to talk about this mission with non-Star Fleet members?” Dax said coolly, casting a stern look in Julian’s direction.

Julian couldn’t help gritting his teeth. “Oh, is this a new order, as I believe I heard you talking about meeting the Binsari people in Quarks last week?” Julian said, an innocent expression on his face.

Dax felt a subtle warmth rise to the tops of her cheeks, a reluctant acknowledgment as she was called out. Tensing her jaw, she turned back to the console, silently cursing her inadvertent admission. Bashir's incessant boasting about his genetic engineering and skills appointed irked her deeply. Her journey to becoming a host required immense dedication, and the memory of her teenage years seemed distant, given her relentless focus on meeting the stringent criteria.

To Dax, it appeared that Julian sought recognition for achievements inherent to his genetic design rather than earned through effort. His prowess, she felt, was unearned and undeserved.

Nerys sighed, silently hoping that Dax and Julian wouldn't engage in a constant argument throughout the mission. She shot a quelling look at both junior officers, finding Dax's comment unnecessary. While Julian might be overly enthusiastic and quite talkative, he approached his commission with sincere dedication.

She had spoken to Doctor Jabra. The Bajoran woman told her that Julian was a ‘surprisingly good manager and frankly a brilliant doctor, who cared for all his patients sympathetically’. Nerys had known Doctor Jabra for over six years and had recommended her for a position on the station. She trusted her opinion.

Nerys had been very angry when she had first found out that ‘a wet behind the ears' recent graduate was made the chief medical officer on the station. Well, she had felt the insult to her people and the capable Doctor Jabra personally.

Julian hadn’t exactly made a good first impression on anyone on the station except unfortunately for Garak, Nerys frowned at the thought. But once he had turned up at the Temple and they had conversed regularly. She now put down his poor first impression down to nerves and anxiety.

Nerys shook head. She couldn’t imagine why Star Fleet was so afraid of them. A competent doctor Julian might be. But personally, he was a nervous wreck. She didn’t understand why such a young man was so concerned about the Prophets and the wormhole.

Julian sighed and tried to rub his forehead surreptitiously, trying to dispel the tension there. Another fifteen minutes and they would be passing through the wormhole. Julian rubbed his now damp palms down his uniform pants.

“This is Major Kira, confirming green for pre-flight check. Are we a go?” Nerys said through the com system to Command Center.

“This is Command Central, you are cleared for departure,” the professional voice of Ensign Kim came through clearly.

“Understood, shuttle Lark departing the station,” Nerys intoned as she competently guided the shuttle from its docking station, heading out through the opened shuttle doors into near space around Deep Space Nine.

‘Only fifteen minutes', Julian swallowed compulsively, he took in several deep breaths to calm himself.

Nerys saw Julian taken deep breaths from the corner of her eye. She hoped the young man didn’t have a panic-attack. Her hands glided over the control panel, deftly setting course for the wormhole and the Gamma Quadrant.

Julian watched Dax out of the corner of his eye, he wanted to ask her about her experience through the wormhole. It’s just her attitude bugged him. Julian was a great deal older than the Trill. Theoretically they should have much in common.

But with the need for secrecy with the Remnants and that they didn’t have any external markers that indicated just how old they were. It did sometimes grate when other long lived species played on their age and experience, when Julian wasn’t able to correct them.

This was somewhat illogical, as he went through the rebirthing process so that he could escape the watchers, who knew exactly who he had been in previous lives and how old he was. It was extremely irksome, to be badgered for stories or ‘what was it really like?' or ‘What was Richard the Lionheart really like?' ad nauseam.

He didn’t mind with the mortals like humans, Klingons, or Bajoran’s judged him on his appearance, for one they tended to accept competence as a guide, even if Remnants looked young. But Trills or Vulcans had a certain superiority of air. That affected Julian as an annoying pinprick that on some days were impossible for him to ignore.

What was even more annoying for Julian, was that he knew his reaction to Dax was in part because he was only physically 27 years old and his emotional state hadn’t settled back to a normal base line for a Remnant, who were overall extremely emotional stable, a necessary quality in a good soldier and leader.

Taking one more deep breath he decided to try and have a conversation with Dax, to relieve the tension in the air.

“So, Lieutenant Dax, being an over 300 years old, have your experiences the Prophets been notably difference to other members of the crew?” Julian said, swinging his chair so that at least he didn’t have his back to the Trill.

“Nothing out of the ordinary that I could determine,” Dax said briskly, not looking up from her instrument display.

“Oh,” Julian said dejectedly. Julian pulled at his collar, wondering if the temperature in the shuttle had risen. With a quick tap of his fingers, he saw that the cabin temperature was a nominal 23C. Julian could feel sweat gathering under his arms, he hoped the other two officers didn’t notice.

Nerys could see Julian fidgeting in the reflection on the Plexi-glass viewing port. Not wanting the man to freak out. “Have the Prophets communicated with you at all?” Nerys said as she too angled her seat to look at the other woman.

Dax couldn’t ignore the major. They had been building a friendship over the last five months and she didn’t want her annoyance with Julian to jeopardise that. “Only once, they were curious how I could be so many people at once,” Dax stated with a small smile for the Major. “They appeared to me as various of my other hosts,” Dax further explained.

This information intrigued Julian. “Did they demonstrate that they understood?” Julian eagerly asked.

A little line above Dax’s nose was the only indication that she was annoyed by Julian’s question. “I am not sure if the aliens did understand. They seemed to have difficulty with the concept of a host dying and yet Dax continuing,” Dax said after a brief pause.

This was much closer to Julian’s interest and worry about his own possible interaction with the Prophets. “But how did you feel? Meeting past representations of yourself?” Julian continued, twisting his whole body now to fully look at Dax.

At last Dax turned away from her console to partially turn towards Julian. “No,” she stated baldly.

“I found the whole experience to be profound,” Nerys added her own viewpoint. She gave Dax a speaking look, encouraging her to expand on her own experience.

Dax sighed but gave Nerys a warm smile. “Trill have a ceremony where we get to interact with our previous hosts. So, it wasn’t a new experience for me,” Dax said, looking at Nerys.

Nerys eyes flicked back to the reflection and was relieved to see Julian was looking for relaxed now, his eyes were bright with interest and his body looked less tense now.

“Five minutes away from wormhole. Begin shuttle prep for travel to the Gamma Quadrant,” Nerys looked down at her navigation display and speed.

Dax looked at her different displays. “Engine is at optimum. Sensors are all line,” Dax said.

“Environmental controls are all green,” Julian said, relieved that he was feeling calmer now.

“Major Kira to Command Central, we are prepared to traverse the wormhole at your command,” Nerys had plotted their course through the wormhole and was poised to hit the go command.

“You are cleared to proceed Shuttle Lark,” Ensign Kim said.

Julian gives a quick look at Nerys, his pulsed jumped, he took a deep breath. ‘It will be fine, even Vedek Meran said so. There’s nothing to worry about', Julian returned his attention to the environmental controls.

“Here we go!” Nerys said, as her deft fingers flew over her panel, the distinctive whine of the controls as shuttle approached the wormhole.

Outside the viewport the massive blue and white maw of wormhole swirled into existence, they were so close it encompassed the entire view.

Nerys guided the shuttle to the entrance of the wormhole.

Julian sat bolt upright, as he felt the first unfamiliar tendril of power touch him. “Oh Dear!”

They just entered the wormhole when Nerys heard Julian’s exclamation, turning around quickly, her mouth dropped open in shock. “Jadzia!”

Dax turned to look at Nerys wondering what had caught her attention. Nerys indicated Julian. Twisting all the way around, she gasped when she fully saw the young doctor.

Julian sat rigid in his seat. All muscles unnaturally taught, his hands claw like, every tendon and vein were standing prominent from his skin. Dax reached out to touch the other man.

“Stop! Look at him,” Nerys tersely commanded.

Dax with a furrowed brow, her breath quickened, noticed what appeared to be static electricity dancing over the doctor’s body. “What’s happening?” Dax said. Twisting back to look at the science station readouts. Fingers darting over the panel she changed the settings to show the internal sensors. Quickly scanning the output.

Nerys gave a quick look over the navigation panel, all indicators were still green. Her eyes darted back to Julian. His hair was standing straight from his head, as if he had been electrocuted. She couldn’t tell if he was still breathing. His eyes were opened wide, and tears were streaming from his eyes. His skin tone had gone to a sickly yellow, his jaw clenched. Whatever was happening to the doctor, it looked painful.

“Dax, anything on the sensors?” Nerys barked out.

“The electric charge in the shuttle has increased to 1.35 Megacoulombs. I am also detecting an increase to quarks within the interior of the shuttle. I am currently measuring a 15% increase in background electron volts,” Dax reported calmly.

“We will be out of the wormhole in two minutes, we should leave him for now, I don’t have access to Julian’s tricorder, so we can’t take any physiological readings,” Dax suggested.

Nerys looked at Dax and could see the little furrows on her brow and the tension around her eyes indicating she was worried.

“He’s a Remnant, that means that they don’t get sick and recover from injuries quickly, yes?” Nerys said looking to the science officer for confirmation.

“I believe so,” Dax said with a hint of uncertainty to her voice. “I only have the generic information kept in the Federation database about them.

“We’ve spoken a lot in the past few months, and this is what Julian told me,” Nerys said sharing a worried look with Dax.

Nerys looked at the readout on her display, only another 30seconds before they exit the wormhole. “You continue to Monitor Julian, I have to navigate the shuttle out of the wormhole”.

“Yes,” Dax said keeping a close eye on the doctor. Dax noticed that sweat had broken out on the doctor’s face, ‘At least that is an indicator that he is still alive’, she thought. As soon as they were out of the wormhole, she would be able to retrieve the shuttle’s emergency first aid kit. She kept one eye on her own engineering and science displays. At least whatever was happening to Julian didn’t appear to be affecting the Shuttle’s systems.

Suddenly they shot out of the wormhole. ‘At last,’ Dax thought as she was finally able to dive for the first aid kit. Just as she reached the cubby where the kit was stored, she heard a dull thud. Turning her head, she saw that the doctor had fallen to the deck of the craft.

Nerys quickly keyed in the root for the Planet they were meant to be travelling to and hit autopilot. Turing she practically leapt out of her seat to reach Julian now lying on the deck.

“He’s not breathing,” Dax urgently said as she swept the tricorder of the still form before her. “No heartbeat,” Dax said with a shocked look at Nerys. She quickly pulled out the resuscitation module out of the kit and with practiced hands flicked on the device.

Nerys promptly pulled Julian so that he was laying prone on his back and ripped down the opening. Dax applied the monitoring pads.

They worked in tandem, desperately attempting to revive Julian. Chest compressions and manual ventilation proved futile. The shuttle's medical equipment, designed for typical emergencies, seemed ill-equipped to handle whatever mysterious force had overtaken Julian.

Dax grabbed an adrenaline hypospray from the med kit, her hands trembling as she prepared to administer the life-saving drug. She injected it into Julian's neck, hoping for a response.

Seconds felt like an eternity as they waited for any sign of improvement on the monitor screen. The shuttle's hum filled the silence, each moment intensifying the gravity of the situation. But Julian remained still and unresponsive.

"Come on, Julian," Dax muttered, her eyes locked on his pale face.

Nerys continued chest compressions, her determination unwavering. "We need to get his heart started again!"

"Nothing's working!" Dax exclaimed, frustration and fear evident in her eyes.

Nerys clenched her jaw, unwilling to accept defeat. She continued administering life-saving measures, her hands moving with a sense of urgency. Her breaths matching the compressions she was applying. The seconds felt like an eternity as they battled to bring Julian back from the brink.

As the situation grew more dire, Dax locked eyes with Nerys, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation. Despite their combined efforts, Julian's lifeless form remained unresponsive.

In a desperate move, her blood pounding in her ears, Dax made a final attempt to resuscitate Julian, injecting a stimulant directly into his heart. The shuttle's alarms blared, echoing the urgency of the situation.

The seconds ticked by each one laden with uncertainty. Nerys and Dax stared at Julian's motionless body, hoping against hope for any sign of life. The fate of their friend hung in the balance as they hurtled through the uncharted territories of the Gamma Quadrant.

Finally, the two women had to accept that they had failed.

‘If only I had paid more attention to Julian’s worries, maybe I could have prevented this,’ Nerys thought angrily to herself. Angry that she had not prevented Julian from coming on this away mission.

Dax looked desolately about her.

Medical debris scattered about the body of their former colleague.

She now wished she hadn’t spoked quite so harshly to Julian earlier in the voyage.

They both sat back on their heels, breathing hard from the exertion, a whisp of hair escaped from Dax’s braid. With a shaking hand she wiped the sweat from her brow.

Both women looked at each other in shock, eyes dull, as the shuttle continued blithely on the away mission.

“What do we do now?” Dax asked her superior officer in a quiet voice.

Chapter 12: X23C

Chapter Text

The silence hung heavy in the shuttle as Julian’s body laid lifeless in the middle of the deck. It’s been five minutes since Lieutenant Dax and Major Kira had ceased their lifesaving ministrations on the doctor.

Nerys ran a shaking hand through her short red hair.

Neither woman were strangers to death, but Julian’s death was so unexpected it left them reeling.

This was a small shuttle without a bunk that some of the larger shuttles had, there was no where to put him. It seemed disrespectful to just leave him there.

Nerys pulled herself together, she went back to the shuttles controls and cancelled the autopilot. Nerys slowed the shuttle to a stop, until it just hung in space.

“Dax, what are the internal sensors readings now?” Nerys asked the Lieutenant.

“All readings are nominal major,” Dax said professionally, though without her usual bright tone.

“We should probably dispose of this mess,” Dax suggested. Putting words to actions, she crouched near the body and started to put away the various instruments back into the med-kit, ready for self-sterilisation.

Suddenly, Julian's body convulsed violently on the deck, arching unexpectedly. Nerys let out a scream, and even Dax, caught off guard, stumbled back, her heart pounding in her chest.

Julian, against all odds, drew in deep gasps of air, Julian opened his eyes, tears streaming as he rolled to his side and vomited on the deck, before collapsing back on the floor, one arm thrown across his eyes. “What did you give me?” Julian croaked out; voice rough.

“What the f*ck!” Nerys shouted, in her shock forgetting her usual professionalism. Her hands shook more now than when she thought Julian was dying.

Dax found her voice after the fright. “We thought you were dead,” Dax said, eyes wide, a little pale, her heartbeat had yet to calm down.

“I was in stasis, like a Vulcan healing trance,” Julian said, his body was slowly resetting to its baseline. “I have a ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ in my file, life saving intervention can interrupt my healing process,” Julian said still laying on the floor. Pulling his arm away from his face, Julian struggled to a sitting position. “Didn’t you read my file?” Julian asked bewildered.

Nerys’s face was hot, as she remembered reading that information several times previously before she and Julian had gone on local away missions.

“I am so sorry Julian, I did read your file,” Nerys said guiltily. “We, erm, gave you adrenaline and used the resuscitation module on you.”

Julian had now brought his knees up and rested his forehead on his knees, trying to get his thoughts and breathing under control. “How far away are we from Planet X23C?” Julian said, still not looking at either of his companions.

“Julian, you can’t be serious, we have to go back to the station,” Dax said shocked at Julian’s question.

Julian looked up at Dax, brows raised, “er, I want a few hours or more before I experience the wormhole again,” Julian said, frankly.

Nerys now looked worried, as she realised that what ever happened to Julian going through the wormhole, it would happen again going back to the station.

Dax, now that the emergency was over and she was recovered from Julian’s sudden resurrection, slipped back into scientist mode. “Do you know what happened?” Dax asked.

Julian rubs his head, “I wasn’t prepared and lost consciousness pretty quickly,” Julian started. “It felt like…it felt like I had been electrocuted,” Julian said looking questioningly at Nerys and Dax for affirmation.

“Well, that’s what it looked like to us too,” Nerys said, turning to look at Dax for confirmation.

“Yes, there was what looked like blue sparks of electricity dancing all over you. Your body was rigid,” Dax explained. “Our sensors were also reading elevated levels of coulombs and electron volts in the interior of the cabin.”

“That’s interesting. Did you record the levels to the on board database?” Julian said, his skin tone back to its normal shade, and a spark in his eyes. Using the environmental control panel beside him, he pulled himself to his feet. Once standing he shook his arms and hands relieving the remaining tension in them.

The little maintenance robot slid out of a panel in the bulkhead, with a little whirring sound it made its way to the pool of vomit unexpectedly left on the deck and cleaned the area. Once the deck was cleaned, it trundled back to it’s hidey-hole in the bulkhead.

Julian turned back to the console he was monitoring before they went through the wormhole. A quick flick of his fingers, as he went through the displays. “Environmental systems are all reading nominal,” Julian reported to the others.

With the light reflecting off his face, highlighting his features in weird shadows. Julian rapidly went through the recordings of when they went through the wormhole.

Nerys was still standing near her own station, momentarily frozen, her thoughts tumbling through her mind. ‘Julian was literally dead five minutes ago and now he is talking about the sensor readings of the shuttle.’ Nerys looked to Dax, surely, she wasn’t the only one confused by Julian’s reaction.

Dax still holding the obsolete med-kit in her hands brought the unit back to its storage unit on the shuttle. Opening the soft white panel, she slotted the kit in place and keyed in the sterilisation order for the unit. The panel closed back into place with a snick.

Dax couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at not delving deeper into Julian's medical file. She hadn't anticipated that Julian's biology would deviate significantly from that of standard humans.

While she was aware that Julian was a Remnant—thanks to Ben's frequent discussions about the doctor and his apparent discomfort with having him on board—Dax hadn't deemed it necessary to scrutinize the finer details of his genetic status. Julian, annoyingly, had made repeated mentions of his unique genetic makeup, often boastful. However, she had dismissed the notion of him being a "super soldier" as mere braggadocio, assuming they were empty claims.

She turned her head back to her own console, concealing her flushed cheeks from the others. 'She was three-hundred years old! She had witnessed countless inexplicable phenomena in that lifetime, but nothing quite like Julian’s resurrection,' Dax pondered, a delicate furrow appearing between her brows.

“There was an increase in Ozone within the cabin as we passed through the wormhole, with the highest concentration occurring just as we exited,” Julian excitedly told the others. “I think we should be able to get even better readings on the way back,” Julian told his companions, swinging his seat around to grin at Nerys and Dax.

“I stopped the shuttle during the emergency,” Nerys said looking at Julian, who seemed quite happy reviewing the data from the environmental station. Dax had her back to Nerys, so she couldn’t see the Trill’s expression.

Nerys shrugged. “Ok then, back to Planet X23C,” Nerys simply said to herself, as no one was paying her any attention.

“Major, I am just going to the head, to get cleaned up,” Julian said as he stood, pulling his sweaty uniform away from his body.

Nerys looked at the Remnant. He did still look a bit worse for wear. Sweaty, his hair still sticking out in every direction. “That’s fine doctor,” Nerys told him. With a tap of her fingers, she split her screen, so that the navigational and environmental panels were side by side.

‘I can’t wait for this mission to be over; I need a drink and a conversation with Odo or Vedek Meran,” Nerys thought. She still did not know what to think. She frowned, thinking of Julian’s worry about the wormhole. It was obvious to her now that Julian talk of being an engineered super soldier, wasn’t just smoke and mirrors.

‘I wonder what exactly he knew that made him think that the wormhole was dangerous’ Nerys pondered. Nerys heard the head door slide open with a hiss. She looked at the reflection in the Plexi-glass and saw Julian walk back to his console, looking neater now at least.

“Are you feeling better now?” Nerys said tentatively to her friend, turning so she could look at Julian again.

Julian gave Nerys a wan smile. “I do feel fully recovered now, it doesn’t take us long to normalise after such an event,” Julian explained jovially. He had probably ‘died’ over a hundred times and was used to the stasis and resuscitation process.

‘Event!' Dax thought. “Have you had many such events?” Dax asked, her blue eyes serious and watchful.

Julian stilled, ‘this was a pickle, I need to explain without leading to questions that may expose my secrets,’ “Well when I was at Star Fleet, I took some basic engineering courses,” Julian said, feeling he was in the swing of things now. “Well, I miss read an electrical schematic of a shuttle power conduit and I basically electrocuted myself with 10,000 Volts,” Julian admitted sheepishly, cheeks red in embarrassment.

Looking dejected, “It’s why I only came second in my year,” Julian said with a shake of the head. “If only the shuttle hadn’t caught fire.”

Dax stared at Julian in shock. “You died when you were a cadet?” she asked in disbelief.

“I wasn’t dead, just severely injured. I went into stasis and my body healed itself. It’s perfectly normal for a Remnant,” Julian said in a off hand manner, still engrossed in the data.

Dax’s mind was reeling, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the Remnant.

“And it doesn’t bother you?” Nerys asked, she too was struggling with this frankly amazing ability.

Finally sensing his crewmates discombobulation, Julian lifted his head and looked at the two women. “Erm, weird!” Julian said, a hint of frown on his face. Lifting a hand, he ran his fingers over his brow. “It’s just it seemed that everyone at Star Fleet academy were bugging me about this aspect of my biology,” Julian said. “My apologies. It was all recorded in the history of the Eugenics War; it was one of the ways the Prime was able to defeat Khan.”

“So, to answer Dax’s original question I do have limited experience,” Julian said. Bringing his mind back to the present Julian continued to try and explain his experience in the wormhole.

“The wormhole experience wasn’t exactly the same as that, slower for one,” Julian explained slowly, eyes dropped to his hands as he tried to reconstruct his memory. Another strange occurrence for Julian who usually had a startling clear memory. He remembered everything up to ‘Oh dear,’ but it was blank after that.

Something he would definitely need to report to Ben. He would need to make sure he got a copy of all the sensor readings from the shuttle before he left.

“How long till we reach Planet X23C?” Julian said. Plans whizzing in his head. He needed to write a program to record himself going back through the wormhole.

“50 minutes,” Nerys replied.

“Erm, if you don’t mind, I am going to work on creating a sensor program to record me when we go back through the wormhole,” Julian stated. “It would be beneficial if Lieutenant Dax could help me with the program?” Julian tentatively suggested.

“Yes, ok, Dax could you help the doctor?” Nerys commanded.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Dax said. She too was curious as to what exactly happened to Julian in the wormhole.

“Great!” Julian said enthusiastically, bouncing from his own seat and going to his storage bin. He quickly pulled out the med-kit he brought with him. He selected his personal tricorder.

Returning to his seat, he turned on the device, he quickly scanned himself, blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen levels all in normal range. Changing a couple of settings, he scanned himself again, looking at his adrenalin and cortisol levels. All readings normal for an exceptionally healthy human man.

He didn’t have any of his specialised tools that could measure his quantum life force, he could get those when he reached Planet X23C.

Saving his readings, he moved over to Dax’s console to discuss what they would measure on their return journey back to DS9.

Julian was all smiles and enthusiasm as he made his plans and wrote his sensor program. This could be vital for Remnants research. Julian didn’t know of any force that effected Remnants the way the energy that had surrounded Julian on his journey to the Gamma Quadrant had.

Though with distance between the traumatic event, Julian felt a trickle of memory, that the energy force reminded him off. Julian would have to think on it. The sooner he reached the planet the better.

Julian bent his head over his console and continued working on his program.

Planet X23C

Julian ran through the rainforest with ease. Using a skill, he wouldn’t deploy in front of his fellow officers. His long legs covered the distance rapidly, each breath measured like a metronome.

Julian legs pumped and he enjoyed the feeling as he ducked and wove through the undergrowth. He was far enough away from Nerys and Dax that he could lower his shield on his quantum life force.

Julian’s life for rippled out in all directions, acting as a deterrent to the local predators, letting them know that there was a much more dangerous predator in their territory. This had the added benefit that Julian only had to watch out for the terrain.

The smell of the vegetation filled his nose, every now and then he would pass a particularly floral scent of an exotic flower. Julian reminded himself to take an analysis on his way back to the team’s camp.

His communicator had been doctored to show his progress at 60% slower. He had dropped several sensors of his own design as he made his way through the deep foliage of the planet. The sensors will collect scientific information but also have the benefit of warning him if either of his colleagues decide to look for him.

When they had beamed down to the they had setup a temporary camp. Nerys was going to start surveying the around their camp, focusing on the trees. Dax went to west looking at a nearby river system. While Julian was heading east, to a local rock formation he had noted when he had been given the mission briefing back on Deep Space Nine.

Of course, the rock formation wasn’t an official part of mission parameters, but Julian was hoping he would find a formation suitable to create a Quantum portal on the planet.

As Julian ran, he would get glimpses of the sky through the canopy the trees created. The sky had a purple hue, different from the azure of Earth, typical of a nitrogen/oxygen/carbon atmosphere. It was amazing what an increase of Ozone by just 30% of Earth norm would do to the light refraction.

Of course, with the extra Ozone in the atmosphere in the air, Julian had to give Dax and Nerys a hypo spray to negate the harmful affects of the excess of Ozone could have on the delicate tissues of the lungs.

Julian continued to run, just another six minutes to go. Julian leapt over a fallen branch, all the while maintaining a subconscious analysis of the ground, he was maintaining a steady 16 kph pace in this difficult terrain. With a clear path and smoother terrain, he could have increased his pace to 25 kph.

Julian was enjoying the freedom to use his body to his fullest capabilities out in the open air. Sweat beaded his forehead and trickled down his back, he really was looking forward to returning to the station, he reeked.

Even though Julian had multiple private exercise programs he executed daily on the station. The benefit of only having six hours of sleep each night, it left him plenty of time for exercise, intellectual pursuits and of course Garak. It wasn’t the same as being in the open air and stretching his ability in a completely unknown environment.

Julian wanted to laugh in shear joy.

Julian took in the dark green, blue, and purple leaves of the plants as he passed and occasionally flying Insect. The sensors he left seeded in his wake will be able to guide him to the most beneficial samples when he returned to the camp. He really was interested in collecting samples for further study.

In a moment he burst forth in the clearing containing the rock formations. Julian grinned in satisfaction. ‘Just what I was hoping for,' Julian thought.

Julian took a few minutes to stretch his body after his run. Taking a wide stance Julian rolled down and pressed his arms fully into the peaty forest floor. In his bent position he twisted right wrapping his hands around his ankles and pressing his body close to his leg. He turned right and repeated the action. Finally, he brought his feet together and stretched towards the violet sky until his spine pleasantly popped.

Shaking out his long limbs, he took his time to look around him.

The rock formation looked like they were deposited there from a previous ice age, end moraines by the looks of the formations.

Julian started to look around for the perfect boulder, it needed to be man sized, preferably at ground level, but at least a large enough ledge that a person wouldn’t accidently fall from it. He picked his way through the smaller shall, pebbles and small boulders.

Soon he found the perfect boulder, 2.5 metres high and 2 metres wide. Julian looked around the ground in front of the boulder. He started to clear the area. Lifting and tossing the smaller boulders out into the brush surrounding the clearing, until it was just the loose pebbles and dirt. ‘Good enough', Julian thought.

Checking the time on his tricorder, he had three hours before he had to be back at the camp. Enough time for what he needed.

Extending his hand, he placed it palm flat on the stone. He concentrated on his life force with him. He thought of his unique quantum signature and bedded it into the rock face. For a moment, his quantum life force lit up his key in the boulder.

Now he had entered his key on to planet X23C, he would be able to open a portal to the Gamma Quadrant from the Alpha quadrant without the need to pass through the Prophet's wormhole. Without detection.

When he got back to the station, he would be able to bring Ben to the Gamma Quadrant and he would be able to embed his own key. With Ben’s power he would be able to generate a much larger portal than even Julian could generate. Big enough to get a small craft through.

The Prime was powerful enough to link up with other old Remnants and together they would have enough quantum energy to fly a small exploration craft through.

Stepping back Julian was pleased with his effort. With a quick look at his tricorder, he checked the location of Nerys and Dax. They were at the two zones they were completing their surveys in.

He hunted around in his pack and took out his relay and attached it to a nearby rock and switched it on. No matter where Julian was, if either Nerys or Dax tried to contact him, the communication would reach him by piggybacking on the quantum network Julian was able to utilise.

Going back to the large boulder he had inserted his key into, he placed his hand on the source and concentrated on where he wanted to go. He pushed his quantum life force out of his body, the tingle of electricity lit up his nerve endings, the smell of ozone filled his nose. With a snap the quantum portal sprang into being.

The surface of the portal glittered under the alien sun, as it rippled and shimmered.

Wasting no time Julian stepped through the doorway.

Five seconds later stepped in to his private storage vault, hidden in an asteroid orbiting a distant sun. The only way into his hidey-hole was through the activation of Julian’s private key. To preserve the books, objects, paintings, and other private mementos he had horded over his exceptionally long lifespan.

Julian maintained a pure nitrogen and argon atmosphere, lethal to most Mortals but excellent for preserving his valuable possessions.

The lights turned on automatically as he passed though the rooms. He passed through his library and spotted a first addition of the ‘Never Ending Sacrifice,’ signed by the author themselves. He found it in a private auction fifty years previously, the seller obviously didn’t know what they had.

Julian grinned. He might need to give the book to Garak when he found out what was written on the medallion Julian had given him. Julian chuckled at the thought, momentarily distracted.

Next Julian passed into his private lab, filled with Remnant technology. He went to his storage cabinet. Using his quantum signature, he opened one of the many draws in the unit. Pulling out the draw fully he rummaged through it till he found what he was looking for.

A sensor patch, which could be stuck anywhere on his body. The sensor was skin coloured so that it would blend in perfectly and would be difficult to find if you didn’t know it was there.

Julian quickly pulled opened his uniform, slipping his arms out of the sleeves he pushed his uniform down past his slender hips. He pushed down the top of his grey underwear and fixed the sensor patch to his left butt cheek. Extremely unlikely, if he went into stasis again that anyone would be looking at his bum closely enough to find the sensor.

Julian quickly pulled his uniform back on. The sensors were designed to be powered using the quantum life force within him.

Julian took out his tricorder, he switched on and keying in an encryption code into the device he was able to get the readings from the sensor. He was able to measure the quantum forces generated by his body and subjected to his body. The sensor should measure exactly what happens to him when he travels back to the Alpha Quadrant through the wormhole.

Julian closes the tricorder and stows it back in his pack.

He hurries back through his storage unit. Just before he activates the portal to return to X23C, Julian decides to check his weapons locker.

Julian had embedded his key directly into the interior of the weapons locker, in an emergency he could reach directly into the locker and pull out any weapon he desired.

Pulling open the doors he verified the contents, though of course it is not like he could ever forget. It was to check that the bladed weapons edges were still keen. He also had several powerful projectile weapons. These weapons would still pierce most modern armour.

Remnants overall didn’t use energy weapons. They didn’t trust them to be affective. There wasn’t an energy weapon that wasn’t completely ineffective against their quantum life force. It didn’t matter how old the Remnants was either. Nothing like terrifying your enemy when their weapons didn’t work on you.

Remnants though peaceful in temperament, they were completely savage in their fighting skill, most of them preferred a bladed weapon. They felt strongly that death should always be personal, that you should always be able to see the eyes of the person you are killing. That if you didn’t have conviction in your cause, then you shouldn’t be fighting at all.

Happy that his weapons were in good condition and would be available for him if he ever needed them.

Julian walked back to the archway that acted as his doorway this side of the portal. Within a couple of seconds Julian had formed the portal to take him back to X23C.

Stepping back into the clearing, Julian blinked rapidly, customising himself to the natural light of the planet.

Julian felt satisfied. He now had an escape route out of the Gamma Quadrant, if he ever needed it. Julian was confident that no one would be able to detect his quantum key embedded in the boulder, especially if anyone did a scan from above the planet.

Ben would no doubt send in agents to gather intel on the technology contained in the Gamma Quadrant and to investigate any hazards that might exist here.

Knowing Ben as well as he did, he felt confident that Ben would establish a secret base here.

Julian looked up at the sky, it looked liked they still had several hours of sunlight left. He checked the time and he still had two and half hours to reach the camp.

Making sure he hadn’t left anything behind Julian checked the clearing, being careful to collect his tools and sensors. Stowing them in his pack.

Julian faced the way he had come and set off on the reverse of the route he took to reach here. The difference was he knew all the obstacles now and he could increase his pace to 18 kph.

Julian laughed in joy as he hurtled through the forest back to their camp.

Chapter 13: Home again

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Bright white light lit the interior of the shuttle as the three officers were returning to Deep Space Nine from their eventful away mission in the Gamma Quadrant.

The Beep...Beep of the shuttle systems added to Julian’s hums and sighs as he happily sorted through his samples, marking those vials that had a particularly strong or interesting scent. In about 600 AD he had been a student of a brilliant perfumer called Cleopatra of Aksum. Julian was hoping that he could isolate these unusual scent notes when he got back to his lab.

Being a perfumer in the ancient world was a lucrative profession, especially if you built up a reputation amongst your clientele. Cleopatra was exceptional. She even had the recipe for her famous names sake’s favourite perfume, which had been passed down the ages to her.

It was amazingly close to the original. Julian had met the original ‘Cleopatra’ centuries previous, when he was acting as merchant scribe, at a trade negotiation. It was more than a millennium later when individuals body chemistry started to be understood and how scent could react differently to each person’s skin type. Yet Cleopatra had known this innately and was able to blend various scents to match her clients perfectly.

Julian was still a keen perfumer, though he hadn’t practiced the art form in a while. He looked forward now to seeing if he could add these new scents in to his repertoire. It was an advantage that Remnants had, their extremely long lifespan and endless curiosity allowed them to delve into many interests and yet be able to ‘put them down’ if another subject caught their attention. Yet decades or even centuries later they could pick-up the hobby again, where they left off.

Julian found himself happily pondering his existence, grateful to his creators for their foresight. They had incorporated the necessary characteristics to relish an eternal existence—traits like an insatiable thirst for knowledge, emotional stability, and a fundamental positive outlook on life. These attributes served as a counterbalance to the negatives of a prolonged life.

The emotional pain humans suffered by outliving family and friends, of being the last of their cohort, was an alien concept to Remnants. The loneliness that could shatter a human's spirit had no hold on a Remnant, as they navigated the eons, safe in the knowledge that their perfect memories held every detail of every person they ever loved, just a thought away. Each kiss, every argument, and all shared sorrows were etched vividly in their minds, providing comfort throughout their lengthy lives, where such memories might have tormented a human.

Remnants could cherish these recollections, even as they experienced a lingering sadness over the absence of new memories, new conversations. They understood the transient nature of mortal life, learning to treasure each moment with a human, fully aware that it formed the entirety of their shared experience.

A more challenging loss for Remnants was the death of one of their own. This event could be profoundly grievous, as they expected their Remnant lover or friend to endure throughout the ages, weaving in and out of each other's lives over centuries of existence. The shock of losing a fellow Remnant could be overwhelming, challenging their expectations of enduring connections in a world where everything else was ephemeral.

With this profound understanding, Julian had devoted numerous occasions in his long life to elder care. Offering solace and shared memories to those unfortunate souls who outlived all their friends and family, he became a compassionate presence in their final moments.

One poignant memory stood out—his time spent with Donal, a 92 year old patient who had experienced the heartache of outliving his best friend since the age of four. The inseparable pair had shared a remarkable bond, never living more than two kilometres apart throughout their entire lives. The shared stories and companionship Julian provided became a balm for the emotional wounds inflicted by time's relentless passage.

“Julian!” Nerys snapped rubbing her temples, Julian’s random noises were drilling directly in to her brain.

Julian looked up startled from his reminiscence. He looked up at Nerys. His keen eyes noticed Nerys rubbing her temples. The tension in her face, his eyes softened with concern.

Getting up from his seat he went to the replicator in the shuttle’s bulkhead and got a glass of ice cold water for Nerys. Hydration was important in relieving a headache.

“Here Nerys, this will help,” Julian said holding out the glass, condensation already building up on the glass’s surface.

Nerys took the water, smiling in weary thanks. She took a long refreshing drink of the water. Thankful for the soothing coldness of the drink.

“I can give you a quick scan and an analgesic if you would like,” Julian said, his concern for his friend on display, excitement over his samples momentarily forgotten.

Nerys smiled weakly at her friend. “No, I am good with just water. We are near to the station now,” Nerys said turning her attention back to her display. “We will be coming up to the wormhole coordinates in thirteen minutes,” she said with a professional tone, before turning back towards Julian.

“You and Dax should probably begin preparing your monitoring programs for when we go back through the wormhole” Nerys instructed softly.

Nerys couldn’t help but look at Julian with worry, she could feel the tension in her forehead. Her headache was probably the direct consequence of Julian collapsing on their journey to the Gamma Quadrant and the resulting worry this had caused. Surreptitiously she rubbed her sweaty palms on her uniform.

She had still not fully recovered from the shock of seeing her friend apparently dead on the deck only five short hours ago. She could not help but feel dread about something worse befalling her friend. If he did not actually die, it had still looked painful.

Even if he was genetically engineered to shake of an injury inhumanly quickly, it was equally clear to her that it had hurt a lot. War had not so desensitised her that she could shake off seeing Julian injured and in obvious pain.

Excusing herself she went to the head to relieve her anxious bladder and splash some cool water on her face. Nerys looked at herself in the harsh light of the tiny room. Confident that her worry wasn’t written large on her face she returned to the main cabin. She will be glad when this mission was over.

Dax bent her head close to Julian and tried not to scrunch up her nose in disgust. Julian usually smelt good, so good in fact, that if he wasn’t so annoying, she might have given him a tumble. But after the day he had, he was no longer as fresh smelling. Though truthfully it was his uniform that was the issue. Julian had washed after his collapse earlier and when he returned sweaty and muddy from his exploration of planet X23C.

Julian was rifling through his personal med-kit looking for appropriate sensor pads. His medical tricorder was on the panel in front of him. “I think these will have to do,” Julian said with a sigh, ‘if only he had thought to bring more sensors,' he thought. ‘Though he already had the most important sensor hidden on him’.

Julian unconsciously unzipped his uniform tunic exposing his well defined chest and stomach and stuck on four grey round sensor pads, ensuring he caught his heart, lungs, and circulatory system in range of the sensors. Finally, he fitted the last sensor across his forehead. He picked up his tricorder and verified that the instrument was picking up all five sensors.

“I am getting good readings from the sensors,” Julian said to Dax. As he set the device to record his readings.

Dax who was momentarily distracted by Julian’s physique, ‘he really was quite attractive,’ Dax thought, turned her attention back to her own console. She felt a tinge of regret that she had so strongly discouraged the younger man when he had first come on to the station and flirted ineffectively with her. ‘Oh well, he probably wouldn’t have been worth the effort,' she thought, young men seldom are, all enthusiasm and no skill, she thought with brief flicker of a grin.

“Interior sensors are ready,” Dax said, noting all displays showed green.

The three officers thought it would be more efficient for Dax to monitor the science and environmental stations, while Nerys covered the navigation and engineering controls.

Julian sat on the cold hard deck. With a rolled up emergency blanket he was going to use as a pillow, and an empty bowl from the shuttle’s replicator beside him, if he vomited again. “Remember if I look dead, I am not, just leave me be. If it looks like I won’t wake up, contact Watcher headquarters and they will send out a Remnant scientist to see to me,” Julian instructed seriously.

“Yes,” Dax said, nodding her understanding.

“Five minutes to the wormhole,” Nerys informed them.

“Right then,” Julian said as he stretched out on the floor. “I am going to meditate and see if I can stay conscious,” Julian stated as he got settled in position, hands folded on his stomach. “If you could start the recordings Dax,” he instructed.

Nerys nodded to herself, feeling anxious, she started a breathing exercise she had learnt many years before, when she fought in the resistance against the Cardassians.

Dax attentively monitored her displays, a twinge of scientific curiosity colouring her observations as the shuttle prepared to traverse the wormhole once more. However, a slight pang of guilt went with her interest, considering Julian's evident pain during the experience. She recognised the irony in her own curiosity, acknowledging that she wasn't always so patient with non-Trills who displayed similar fascination with her unique physiology.

But still Dax was eager to witness this unique capability of Julian’s, Remnants were so secretive it was frustrating.

Julian let the shuttle drift away as he brought himself fully into his body. Concentrating on each sense. He had contemplated letting a little of his life force escape but thought it might be too risky before he knew what exactly was happening.

Breathing deep he slowed his breaths to two per minute. Eyes closed; he banished all conscious thought. Distantly he heard Nerys say they were entering the wormhole.

Julian stilled further as he felt the energy of the wormhole creep over him. His own quantum life force buzzed and fizzed within him. The two types of energies were at war with each other fighting for dominance.

The first time through the wormhole, Julian wasn’t prepared for the assault. His life force wasn’t separate or sentient from him. But it could operate on a subconscious level, especially to protect its host. Sometimes the best defence is to play dead. That was what happened the first time. His quantum life force had shut down all systems and rebooted him when he was through the other side.

This time Julian had some conscious control. It felt like there were a million little insects burrowing into his skin. Julian wanted to squirm or pull his skin from his flesh. He could feel the ache in his jaw from clenching his teeth so hard, sweat beaded on his forehead.

Distantly he was aware of Dax and Nerys talking. Nerys was calling out a countdown. Another three minutes of this agony.

Julian had died in many gruesome ways, he had even been captured in twelfth century Henan province by the equivalent to a mad scientist, who unfortunately for Julian had witnessed his amazing recuperative abilities. He had tortured Julian to death many times. Julian didn’t like thinking about that time of his life.

But even when he had been flayed alive or set on fire, even though excruciating painful, somehow it could not compare to this experience.

It seemed to last for eternity, and Julian had a much better ability to imagine this than any human.

All of Julian’s muscles were strung tight, putting enough stress on his bones that they felt they might break from the tension. Julian was sure that the smaller bones in his feet and hands, did developed green fractures.

His stomach cramped hard, even the hair on his head hurt. He could hardly draw in any breath.

As suddenly as it started it was over as the shuttle shot out into the local space surrounding Deep Space Nine. Julian slumped in relief.

As the pain and stress dissipated from Julian’s body, leaving him shaking and sweating on the deck. Twisting suddenly, he vomited into the dish he had placed beside him. Julian notices a drop of water splash on the deck and realised he was crying. Gasping for air he slumped back to the floor, waiting for his limbs to stop shivering.

Nerys had set a course at quarter impulse power, back to the station. Quickly she swung back to Julian, still slumped on the deck breathing heavily. Her own pulse was pounding, and she could hear the whoosh of blood in her veins.

“Julian, do you need assistance?” Nerys asked gently, sharing a worried look with Dax.

Julian just shook his head, not able for words yet and he tried to regain control of himself.

Dax was relieved that Julian hadn’t lost consciousness this time. Though looking from the outside, it still looked as painful as the first time they had passed through the wormhole.

At last Julian pushed himself up to sitting position. He realised he should have prepared an isotropic drink as he was quite depleted. No matter his quantum life force will have him fully restored in a matter of minutes.

“Could I trouble you for a glass orange juice?” Julian managed to croak out. He stilled looked much paler than usual.

Dax dashed to the replicator to get the requested drink. Soon she returned to Julian. She had thoughtfully requested a straw for him too.

With still trembling hands, Julian took the juice and thankfully sucked down the drink. Once the glass was empty Julian struggled to his feet. First, he shook out his limbs and then completed some stretches. He was feeling much more like himself now.

He smiled wearily at the two women. “Well, I can confirm that the first trip through the wormhole was much more pleasant than the second,” Julian said.

“Command central to shuttle Lark, do you copy?” said a voice from the communication unit.

Turning her attention back to the controls, Nerys answered, “We hear you Command central. Are we clear to dock?” Nerys briskly asked.

“Clear to dock at pylon 2, shuttle bay 2A,” an equally efficient voice instructed.

“Understood, out,” Nerys said before disconnecting the com.

Nerys threw a quick look at Julian who was now slowly cleaning the area, while Dax sat at the science station and scrutinised her readouts.

Nerys turned her attention fully to piloting the shuttle into dock, one of the more difficult tasks to accomplish when flying a shuttle craft.

Nerys was simply happy that they were finally back home. She wanted a warm shower and a cool drink with a friend to de-stress after such a fraught mission. Though she almost wanted to cry when she realised, she would still have to give some sort of mission debrief before she could finally go off duty.

‘Oh Well! It’s what I signed up for on being highest ranking Bajoran officer on board,' Nerys sighed to herself.

Station

Julian sighed with relief as he walked slowly through the corridors back to the infirmary. Physically he was already fully recovered from his wormhole transit, but his mind was a hive of activity. He was only subconsciously paying attention to his fellow inhabitants on the space station.

Julian usually enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the station, conversing with various shop owners, stopping to say hello to the Star Fleet officers he knew. He had taken Ben’s advice seriously all those months ago. He had stopped acting so foolish, maintained a certain level of arrogance, but on the surface presented an eager young Star Fleet officer, who was competent at their job and yet still a Remnant.

He was pleased with the closer relationships he had developed with the O’Brian’s, Nerys and of course Garak. He had regular work-out buddies in the gym and joined the Racket Ball league on the station. He was enjoying his work and had built up a good working relationship with Doctor Jabra and the other staff members under his command.

He had even developed a rewarding and interesting relationship with Vedek Meran. So, overall his life on board the station was everything he had hoped it would be.

And now he had put to rest his worries about the Prophets. He would need to report all he knew to Ben and the Remnants/Watcher scientists. They needed to figure out what exactly was happening when Julian went through the wormhole and did this apply to all Remnants? He had all the necessary sensor data, hopefully that would be enough information to form a working hypothesis.

He wouldn’t be a very effective chief medical officer if he became incapacitated every time, he traversed the wormhole or vomited over his station on exit of the wormhole.

But his main concern that he would somehow disrupt the Prophets or that they would somehow discern all of his secrets seemed a mute point now.

At last, he reached the infirmary, he needed to inform the staff that he wouldn’t be reviewing the days activities on the station, unless there was some emergency as Chief Medical Officer he needed to be informed about.

Walking into the welcoming infirmary, with it’s bright lights and antiseptic smell made Julian feel he was home again. Med-Tech Ivanov was tending to an injury, buy the yellow uniform and scorch marks Julian could see, was a burn.

Doctor Jabra was working at her desk and when she looked up, her brows raised in alarm at the sight of Julian. “Doctor Bashir?” she said.

“I assure you Doctor Jabra, that I look worse than I feel,” Julian said with a chagrined smile. “It seems wormhole travel is not for me,” Julian just gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Is there anything I need to know about today’s shift?” Julian said as he walked over to one of the benches near the medical replicator before slowly opening his med-kit.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, Doctor,” Jabra started. “A bar fight caused some abrasions, some scheduled vaccinations and an accident with a power conduit,” she said with a nod to the patient still being treated.

“Very well Doctor Jabra. I will just store my kit and retire for the shift,” Julian said, as he placed the used sensors in the replicator to be recycled. “I’ll back on shift tomorrow at my normal time. Though I will have to report on my experiences to Commander Sisko at some point,” Julian said with a tired smile.

“Yes, Doctor Bashir,” Jabra said, returning Julian’s smile sympathetically.

“I just can’t wait to get back to my quarters to have a shower,” Julian told her. He slotted his instruments in their storage ports and then slotted the med-kit into its locker. He made sure to keep his personal tricorder out so he could take it home with him.

Taking the tray of samples he had collected on X23C, he brought them to his office and stored them in the stasis chamber he kept there. Ready to be worked on the next day.

Julian walked back into the main treatment room, picking up his tricorder. He was ready to leave for the afternoon.

“Have a good Evening, Doctor Jabra, Ivanov,” Julian said with a wave as he hurriedly made his exit to return to his quarters.

*&*

Garak sat at a small table up on the mezzanine overlooking the promenade. From his vantage point he got an unobstructed view of the wormhole opening through the observation window and the entrance to the infirmary below. He should be able to see Julian when he arrived back on the station.

Ever since he left Julian in the corridor outside the shuttle bay, he has been out of sorts. He felt restless all day and has had less patience with his more dim-witted customers than usual. His thoughts kept drifting to Julian, whether he wanted them to or not. It had been a most aggravating day.

Looking down Garak notice he had a death grip on his raktajino cup. He forced his had to relax and made sure he looked relaxed if anyone was watching him.

Garak had spent some of the day collecting the data from the passive sensors that he had setup in Julian quarters. Trying to work out how Julian was communicating with the other Remnants. When Julian was discussing his worries over the Prophets and wormhole, he had pretty much admitted that he was in communication with a superior.

But even with Garak’s expertise in cyber espionage. His knowledge of the Cardassian communication systems on board. He couldn’t find any evidence of how Julian was doing it. Hence, several weeks ago Garak had resorted placing bugs in Julian’s quarters.

He had then spent two hours reviewing the data. Uncomfortably he listened to them having sex, he gritted his teeth at Julian’s ‘sexy talk.’ In the rare occasions they spent the night in Julian’s colder quarters rather than Garak’s more cosy rooms. There were several boring conversations between Julian and Chief O’Brien about the various sporting activities they were going to try or Julian persuading the Chief to play one of Julian’s ‘Spy Holovid Games,’ Garak grimaced at the thought.

But no communication between Remnants. Unless you counted Flix. Garak wasn’t sure if Flix was a Remnant or just an exceptional human.

If Julian was communicating with Remnants, where was he doing it? Surely, he wouldn’t do it in the infirmary would he? Garak pondered.

Garak frowned, one finger absently tracing his left eye ridge. It would be much more difficult to place any sort of monitoring device in Julian’s office, in the infirmary. He squirmed in discomfort in his seat, he hadn’t been feeling great all day.

‘Maybe he should go for a medical to his favourite doctor,’ Garak pondered. That would give him the excuse to be in the infirmary and an opportunity might arise where he could place a bug on Julian’s private console.

Anyone watching Garak would see the slight smile on Garak’s lips.

Just then Garak’s attention was caught by the observation window as the wormhole swirled into existence. Garak heart skipped a beat, and he sighed quietly in relief.

Julian was back!

It wouldn’t be long now.

At this distance, the shuttle was but a speck. ‘Was it travelling slower than usual?' Garak wondered. He noted the time on the nearby chrono. By conversations he had overheard, he knew it generally took only fifteen minutes to reach the station.

Time seemed to slow down. The handout of view, under the table, curled into a fist. While Garak forced the rest of his body to relax. To genially nod and acknowledge those he knew on the station as they passed him by.

‘What was taking him so long?'

In his mind he could hear Tain berating him for his weakness. For having feelings for the soft Federation Doctor. With his large hazel eyes and dark curly hair. Garak could practically hear Tain’s snide remarks about his depravity for enjoying the Remnants attentions. How feeble Garak was, how soft. How sickening it was to Tain, to have a son such as Garak. No wonder he could tell no one about Garak and Tain’s own shame.

‘STOP!'

Garak slowed his breaths and maintained a calm external image. Tain is not here. The fundamental truth of the matter was, that Tain, would never approve, never acknowledge Garak. Even if he were the perfect Cardassian.

Garak casually glanced at the chrono again and realised seventeen minutes had gone by. ‘Damn!' Had he missed Julian’s entrance on to the promenade. He swung around in his seat. He now turned his back on the observation window and focused on the entrance to the infirmary.

Garak was soon rewarded, as Julian appeared below him. Garak’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Julian. He looked very unkempt. Unusual for Julian who was always very neat in his appearance if not fashionably so. His uniform was rumpled, and his hair was a jumbled mess. Julian soon passed out of view again when he entered the infirmary.

Not five minutes later he exited. Julian’s gait was weary, he paid no attention to his surroundings as he trudged through the station. It looked like he was heading to his quarters.

Garak stood from the table, quickly depositing his cup into the recycler, and hurried off. Hopefully to beat Julian back to his quarters. He wanted to know what had happened to Julian in the wormhole.

^*^*

Julian was more than ready to get out of his smelly uniform, my god he just wanted a shower. By human standards he wasn’t really smelly, even sweaty he generally wasn’t unpleasant smelling. Though he was able to give himself a field bath in the shuttle head, the shuttle wasn’t stocked with spare uniforms. Next time he will remember to bring spare clothes. But right now, his uniform was frankly disgusting.

He was almost at his door when he heard his name being called. Looking up he saw Garak coming the other way. He couldn’t help but grimace at the sight of the other man.

Garak stopped at Julian’s door, his mouth tight. He saw Julian’s expression. It looked like the good doctor wasn’t in the mood for Garak. It was too late now, he was here.

“Garak,” sighed Julian, conscious of how he smelt. “I wouldn’t come too close, I reek,” Julian said wrinkling his nose in distaste.

This close even in the dim corridor lighting Garak could clearly see how dishevelled Julian looked. “What happened?” Garak said, he couldn’t help the tinge of alarm to his voice. Garak tried not to pull a face, as Julian’s stench finally reached him.

Julian sighed and wearily rubbed his forehead, before dragging his hands over his face. “Do you mind if we get out of the corridor?” Julian said. He slowly brought up his hand, as if it was a great effort and pressed his palm against the lock mechanism.

The door swooshed open, and Julian stepped through the door. “Lights, 60% nominal,” he commanded. Julian turned to look at Garak, “Come on.”

Garak darted through the door before it shut behind him with a shinck. Thankfully, Julian headed straight to his washroom.

“Could you get my sleep wear, Garak?” Julian asked before the washroom’s door closed.

By now Garak realised that Julian was exhausted. ‘At least he is home,' Garak thought as he entered Julian’s sleep chamber. Familiar with the layout of the room, Garak went to his closet holding his sleepwear. Seeing how weary Julian was, Garak selected the softest and warmest garments he owned. A particularly attractive sage green pyjama set in brushed cotton and a soft midnight blue brocade dressing gown, Garak had gifted the other man.

Garak went back to the washroom’s door, pressing the door open, eucalyptus scented steam bellowed into the room. It seemed Julian had opted for the comfort of a steam shower opposed to the more efficient sonic shower. Garak set Julian’s clean clothes on a glass shelf and bent to pick up Julian’s discarded uniform on the floor.

“I have left your clothes on the shelf, dear,” Garak said before withdrawing from the small room. He at once tossed Julian’s soiled clothes into the recycler.

Garak walked over to a standing lamp, positioned in the corner of the room with red shade with cut-outs in the fabric. Flicking on the light, it cast warm shadows throughout the room. “Main lights to 20% power,” Garak called out the instruction. The lights in the room immediately dimmed. Leaving the room in relaxing shadow.

He went to the replicator and asked for a litre of boiling water in a glass teapot. Carefully placing the teapot on the counter, Garak reached up for the tea caddy. Lifting it down, and opening the lid, Garak used the measuring scoop to add three spoons of Rooibos tea to the pot. Stirring it gentle to encourage the rich organic materials to diffuse through the water.

Covering the pot with a ‘tea-cosy’ that Julian’s grandfather had made him, he carried the pot to the coffee table, near the lamp and a comfortable loveseat as Julian called it. Leaving the pot of tea to rest, along with two cups. Garak went back to the replicator and ordered three iced-buns. Julian’s favourite.

Just then the washroom door softly opened, and Julian stepped into the room. He paused at the entry, looking at Garak’s arrangement.

“Garak, you truly are a treasure,” Julian said lifting his hand to softly stroke Garak’s shoulder in thanks.

He was smiling at Garak with such warmth, that Garak’s traitorous stomach flipped at the sight. “It is no matter my dear. It looked like you had a tiresome day,” Garak smiled gently back at Julian. He took Julian’s unresisting hand and guided him to the loveseat. Gently pressing on Julian’s shoulders, he encouraged the other man to sit down, before Garak followed him.

Julian rested his head momentarily on Garak’s shoulder, thankful to be home after an eventful day. Breathing in the pleasant scent of Garak’s skin and taking comfort from his bright decor scattered through his quarters. Julian gratefully relaxed.

“Tea, dear?” Garak said, carefully looking at Julian, whose hair was still damp and curling from the shower.

“Mmm hmm,” Julian sleepily looked at Garak. Smiling as he accepted the cup of hot tea.

Julian took a welcoming sip of the refreshing drink, already starting to feel refreshed. “At least I now know Remnants don’t affect the Prophets or wormhole,” Julian said, eyes closed as he continued to drink. “Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the reverse,” Julian breathed out on a sigh.

Julian leaned back into his seat, snuggled down in his soft dressing gown and plush cushion. “When I first went through the wormhole the first time, I died,” Julian said baldly. There was no point hiding it from Garak when both Nerys and Dax had witnessed it.

Garak turned to look at Julian in shock, ‘was he joking?’

Julian lazily turned his head to look at Garak. He smiled. “Well not actually dead, obviously,” Julian explained. “The wormhole energy was somehow attracted to me and injured me, leading me to enter stasis, while my body repaired itself,” Julian said, closing his eyes enjoying the comforting environment.

Garak just looked at Julian, eyes wide, heart pounding. This was something the Obsidian Order would really want to know about.

“Stasis,” Garak said looking for clarification.

“Yeah,” Julian cracked an eye to look at Garak. “It was like as if I was electrocuted by the wormhole,” Julian explained softly.

Garak looked in dismay at Julian. The more he learnt about Remnants and Julian, the closer he got to having to decide about giving the data he had gathered on Julian, to the Order.

Julian opened his eyes fully now. “Don’t worry Garak, I was healed in stasis, similar to a Vulcan healing trance,” Julian said. Julian harrumphed, “I don’t know why everyone is acting so surprised, it was in my medical file!” Julian said.

‘Had I missed that?' Garak thought, turning his attention back to her doctor cuddled beside him, his warmth emanated from him like a living furnace. It was delicious in Julian’s chilled quarters. Garak was remembering why he didn’t like to spend time in Julian’s space.

Thinking back now, Garak does remember the ‘Do Not Resuscitate’, in his medical file. But the file hadn’t explained the reasoning over the instruction.

A sly look stole over Julian’s features as he gave a cat eyed look at Garak. “You surely knew all about it. After all, in book two of ‘Echoes of Ascendancy’ Billy, the Remnant undercover operative, was electrocuted while escaping Khan’s compound in Angola,” Julian said. “There was all the drama, for at least three chapters, over how everyone thought Billy was dead. Then he recovered due to his Remnant nature”.

Garak shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the pout and accusing look Julian was throwing his way. “Ah yes, I recall,” Garak said. “I thought that might have been the ‘artistic licence’ you told be about, in Earth fiction,” Garak said hopefully.

“Of course not,” Julian said grumpily. “I told you that the ‘Echoes of Ascendancy’ is renowned for its historical accuracy,” Julian said. A disappointed look on his face, as he sadly shook his head slightly. Julian slumped back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest.

‘Ancestors! Now I am going to have to go back through ‘Echoes of Ascendancy’’ Garak thought annoyed. Picking up the plate of iced buns, he offered them to Julian. Hoping to cajole the man back into good humour.

With a sniff, Julian selected a bun, they were after all his favourite. He continued to give Garak a sulky look, he didn’t want to spoil his fun, and took a bite of the soft delicious, sweet treat. Julian sighed in satisfaction once the whole of the bun had been devoured. Garak really was a sweetheart. Julian gave the Cardassian a soft look and imagined the fun he would have once Garak figured out; he had been played.

“Do you want to stay? I can increase the temperature in here if you want?” Julian said. Looking curiously at Garak, wondering what Garak will choose.

Garak looked at Julian, his bad temper apparently passed. ‘Should he leave or stay?’ He wondered. Garak thought of the day’s anxiety and in a moment of weakness said, “I’ll stay my dear if you don’t mind,”

Smiling warmly at Garak, Julian stood from the chair and extended a warm hand to Garak. Pulling the other man gently to his feet, he guided him to his bedchamber for some much needed respite after the stressful day he had.

Debrief

Chief Miles O’Brien shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He wished he had not been invited to this meeting, especially when he realised that the focus of the meeting was Julian, their local ‘Remnant.’

Julian was ok, sure he talked a lot, but so did a lot of people. He was funny at times, and he had some truly brilliant and fun holo-programs.

It was obvious from the first briefing about the Remnant on the station that Sisko was ambivalent to the idea, and only grudgingly admitted now that Julian was an ok doctor.

Miles looked over at Major Kira, she looked tired and from the tightening around the eyes, Miles would predict that she had a blinding headache. Dax on the other hand looked her usually fresh self, no obvious look of strain on her attractive features.

“Well Major, how did the Remnant react about going through the wormhole to the Gamma quadrant?” Sisko started the meeting, looking intensely at his two junior officers.

Nerys gritted her teeth at the question, to her, Sisko’s obvious distaste for Julian was baffling, especially for an intelligent and sensitive man that Sisko showed himself to be in all other circ*mstances. Nerys flicked her eyes over to Dax to see her expression.

Dax just sighed and gave a gently chiding look to her old friend.

“As you know, Doctor Bashir has been showing some anxiety for some time about entering the wormhole,” Nerys said in a professionally tone, she tried to keep any emotion out of her voice. She just wanted this day to be over so she could go meditate or get a drink. ‘My Prophets, my head is pounding, I should have accepted Julian’s hypo,' Nerys thought, trying not to squint at the bright lights in the conference room.

“It seemed to us that Bashir suffered a bad reaction by going through the wormhole,” Nerys said, looking to Dax for confirmation.

“Yes, Ben, it appeared as though Julian was electrocuted," Dax contributed her own observation to the conversation. She frowned slightly, continuing, "During the initial pass through the wormhole, it seemed that Julian suffered a severe injury, leading his body to enter a state of stasis.”

“Julian was killed?” Miles exclaimed, worry etched on his face. “But he recovered quickly?” Miles said, looking to Major Kira.

“Well yes, he told us he went into stasis, and that he has a ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ instruction, in his file,” Nerys said, her brow furrowed as she watched O’Brien nod in acknowledgement. He didn’t seem concerned at all. “You knew about this” Nerys said, a hint of accusation in her tone.

Ben frowned unhappily. While Dax shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

“Yeah sure, everyone knows about it, don’t they?” Miles said looking around at his colleagues with a bewildered look on his face.

“It is one of the aspects we have little information on Chief, how they heal themselves so quickly,” Sisko said. “No one in Star Fleet knows the mechanism of how it works. And the Treaty between the Remnants and Earth’s government forbids any medical testing on Remnants,” Sisko said looking displeased at this restriction.

“During the war with the damn Cardies, there were Remnant soldiers. None in my unit,” Miles said looking around the table. “It was well known if a Remnant was ‘killed’, you just packed them up and sent them back to base and the next day they would be back up on their feet ‘right as rain’,” Miles explained, a look of total disbelief that some of his colleagues seemed to not know this.

“Julian seemed to recover very quickly, maybe five or ten minutes,” Dax added, lips pursed, as she looked to Chief O’Brien.

Miles just shrugged. “I only know what I was told, it seemed recovery time could be half an hour or 12 hours, it seemed to depend on the injury,” Miles said. “No one told me what affected the recovery time,” Miles shrugged again.

“Well, we will need to report this to headquarters,” Sisko said seriously. He didn’t like Bashir on his station. It unsettled him how Remnants looked just like normal people. “This is important information,” Sisko continued. It just unsettled him even more with this blatant display of Julian’s abilities, even if he did look fully human.

“Maybe the injury wasn’t that serious,” Dax suggested with a thoughtful look. “After all he did not lose consciousness on the way back through the wormhole,” Dax pointed out.

“Dax, please collate all the data on the incident and prepare it for delivery to Star Fleet,” Sisko instructed the Science Officer.

“Yes Ben,” Dax replied, making a note on her pad.

“I want to review it before we send it in,” Sisko told her.

Nerys’s head pounded, but she didn’t feel comfortable about sending a message specifically about Julian. It’s one thing to send the standard reports, but it seemed invasive to send a special report on Julian, just because he was a Remnant. “Is that necessary Commander?” Nerys spoke up. “When we send weekly reports on our missions and personnel?” She queried.

A muscle in Sisko’s cheek twitched. Sisko gritted his teeth and then forced himself to relax. “It is Star Fleet orders to pass on any information we gather about Remnants in the execution of their duties,” Sisko said.

Miles tensed in his seat, as this looked like it could turn in to an argument. He too felt uncomfortable about reporting, specifically on Julian. In truth when he first met the younger man, he didn’t know how to feel about the Remnant. He had read about them in the history books at school. Hell, he had even devoured that same comic book series Julian was forcing Garak to read, when he was a boy.

Julian's exuberant enthusiasm for holo-vid games and sports occasionally wore on Miles, but simultaneously, he recognised that Julian brought a lot of fun into their interactions and was remarkably easy to converse with. The doctor's unexpected patience further added to the nuanced observation Miles' had made on the Doctor, slowly changing Miles’s sentiments regarding Julian.

The better he knew the other man, the more unease he felt about Star Fleet and the Federation’s stance on Remnants made him. Miles couldn’t help his leg jittering under the conference table.

“And no matter our personal feelings about Doctor Bashir, we need to follow Star Fleet regulations in this regard,” Sisko said firmly, while giving Kira and O’Brien a reproving look.

Nerys bristled at the look. This was Bajoran space, her home world. They didn’t have any restrictions on genetic engineering. Yet the Federation were on her space station, dictating to her who she can fraternise with.

Both Sisko and more subtly Dax had warned Nerys that she shouldn’t become too close to Julian. That it might affect her standing within Star Fleet. Just thinking about it, she could feel her cheeks grow hot with anger.

Miles flicked his eyes towards Major Kira. She looked like she would explode at any moment.

“Of course, there is the whole Garak situation we have to worry about too,” Dax said. “I reminded Julian about the confidential nature of his work and that he shouldn’t repeat anything to non-Star Fleet personnel,” Dax informed Sisko primly.

‘Oh no! That’s going too far,' Miles thought, leaning forward in his chair. “Come on now, Julian takes patient confidentiality very seriously,” Miles pointed out. “Besides, Julian came to us that first day when Garak contacted him,” Miles continued giving Dax a reproving look, he didn’t quite dare to give the same look to Sisko.

“Yes, but how were we supposed to know that Garak was actually serious in pursuing the doctor,” Dax countered, she folded her arms. She realised how defensive she looked, so forced her arms back into a relaxed position.

“Well, we weren’t that welcoming when he came on board were we,” Miles said with a scowl.

Nerys reached out and subtly touched the chief on the arm, to calm him down. “We can all admit that Doctor Bashir does not make a good first impression. But I have known him for several months now and all I can say is that I think he was particularly anxious, serving at his first post” Nerys said. “Once he relaxed, he wasn’t nearly as clumsy in his approach to people,” she continued.

Dax looked at the Major, tightness about her eyes. This was the one area the two women couldn’t agree on, though they were building a friendly relationship.

“Besides, Garak and Julian are harmless,” Miles said wanting to support his friend. “All they do is torture each other with literature,” Miles continued with a slight shake of the head. Miles really didn’t understand the relationship the two men shared.

“Julian forces Garak to read comic books and in return, Garak make’s Julian read dreary Cardassian Poetry,” Miles grimaces at the thought, he couldn’t imagine anything less appealing.

“They then argue for hours over which is better,” Miles finishes with a smile, which quickly fades from his face at the disapproving looks from the others at the table. ‘Really they were cute!' Miles privately thought.

Miles slumps in his seat and crosses his arms. The thing he has learnt from observing Julian’s and Garak’s relationship was what an evil little sh*te Julian actually was.

Miles asked him after a particularly loud disagreement about the ‘Never Ending Sacrifice,’ after Garak had marched back to his shop. Julian claimed it was fun arguing with Garak and that it was good for the Cardassian. Julian had said all this with a devilish grin and laughter in his eyes. It was the moment when Miles knew they could be real friends.

‘Now if only Julian stopped describing his sex life, all would be well,' Miles thought with a sigh.

"Remnants are incredibly secretive too," Dax remarked, as if this was justification alone to invade Julian’s privacy. Her tone reflecting a subtle blend of scepticism and frustration. She gazed around the table, seeking acknowledgment for her sentiments, and found only Ben nodding in agreement.

"It's quite a challenge to extend trust to a species that veils its identity, unwilling to disclose even the most fundamental aspects of its society," Dax continued, her discerning gaze traversing the countenances of those assembled.

The sentiment, however, made her dismiss the fact that the Federation had only recently discovered the existence of joined Trill, and even then, it happened inadvertently. She displayed the common hypocrisy of most species: tendency to judge themselves by intentions while evaluating others solely based on their actions.

“Vulcans aren’t exactly forthcoming with their culture either; they have numerous secret ceremonies forbidden to non-Vulcans,” Miles pointedly remarked, highlighting a flaw in Dax’s argument. Privately, he entertained the thought that most cultures harboured confidential information not readily shared with outsiders.

Momentarily scowling, Dax swiftly concealed the expression, countering the Chief's contradiction about the secrecy of Remnants. 'Remnants were excessively secretive,' she grumbled internally. Notably, long-lived species existed in the quadrant, such as Trills, capable of reaching 500 years.

Yet, they acted as if their privacy were paramount. Dax, aware that Remnants weren't obligated to disclose their ages to Star Fleet or any Federation entity or that they were a Remnant. It irked her that Julian’s true nature as a Remnant, had only been exposed due to Julian's step-father.

Attempting to regain her composure, she relaxed her posture while musing on the exasperating nature of Remnants. The idea that they hadn't naturally evolved their extended lifespans felt like a form of cheating to Dax. 'How long did they really live anyway?' she wondered, frustrated by the Remnants' secrecy, making it impossible to find the true extent of their longevity.

‘What other unique qualities did they posses due to their engineered status,' Jadzia thought. ‘Shockingly, no one even knew how they even reproduced,' how annoying and dramatic, she only just stopped herself from rolling her eyes.

An indignant expression crossed Dax's features as she shared the next bit of information. "Curzon Dax attempted to join the Watcher association sixty years ago and was rejected!" Her voice carried a note of incredulity, as though the mere idea of a Dax being turned down was beyond belief. "They had the audacity to claim he lacked the right temperament or experience, to join the Watcher Organisation" Dax declared, her frustration clear in the recounting of the rejection.

"Curzon would have surpassed the two-hundred-year mark," Sisko commented, shaking his head in apparent disbelief. There was a shared sentiment of incredulity as if questioning the logic behind denying his old mentor anything. "It's truly baffling to consider the short-sightedness of an organisation claiming to study the entirety of human history, rejecting the invaluable insights that Curzon Dax could have brought to the table," Sisko added, exchanging a commiserating glance with Jadzia Dax.

“Who are the watchers?” Nerys asked puzzled, with her headache she was having difficulty maintaining her concentration levels.

“It’s a human led organisation that interacts with the Remnants and records everything they do. They purport that their mission is to record all of human history,” Dax explains with a sigh. “Yet they don’t release any of their records and they only allow supervised access to records by historians,” Dax said. “Very suspect, what are they recording and why won’t they allow free access to their archives?” Dax said, scanning the table, obviously disgruntled still about Curzon Dax’s rejection by the organisation.

“This is why we have to report everything to the Federation, because they don’t tell us anything,” Sisko reiterated firmly. “And like it or not, Doctor Bashir is on our station, and it is our duty to report his activities to Star Fleet.”

Sisko cast a stern eye around the table, stopping of Major Kira, who looked mutinous at this stage and O’Brien who looked uncomfortable. “Do I make myself clear?” Sisko added.

Miles nodded glumly in acquiescence, while Major Kira nodded stiffly.

“You are dismissed,” Sisko said firmly, ending the debriefing of Planet X23C away mission.

Nerys pushed her chair loudly back from the table, not bothering to hide her unhappiness at the continued situation with Julian. From her point of view, it was discrimination plain and simple. No different from what the Bajoran people were subjected to by the Cardassians. She practically stormed from the room. Her Body stiff, her quick stride implied that if there was a door that could be slammed it would have been.

As the meeting continued it seemed to Nerys that Julian’s worry over the Federation discovering his secrets that could lead to Remnants being in danger, now seemed justified. She didn’t like it at all. It felt like the Federation was forcing her to become an informant. Maybe she would contact her government and share her concerns with them.

Miles stood awkwardly from his chair and gave a weak smile to Lieutenant Dax and his commanding officer, relieved that this meeting was over. As he walked from the conference room he wondered if he should tell Julian about the report Dax was preparing to send to Star Fleet.

^&^&

Julian stood in his brightly lit washroom, it was 03:00, third shift on the station. Garak was sleeping soundly in Julian’s bedchamber, cocooned under several heavy and warm blankets.

Julian’s hand was on the mirror. The mirror didn’t show him his reflection but was looking out in to a dimly lit room, somewhere across the Galaxy.

“Ben!” Julian called softly, echoing the desire to talk to Ben through the quantum mechanism all Remnants were born with to contact the Prime. All Remnants knew they could contact the Prime this way when they had built up some basic control over their quantum life force, maybe by three hundred, they would have the skill.

Luckily for Ben his own control was such that he could filter out the calls on a subconscious level. Julian was well aware of Ben’s ability. He made sure he held the information he wanted to share with Ben to the forefront of his mind, making it easy for Ben to discern what Julian wanted to discuss with him.

Julian felt a flicker of annoyance and knew Ben had received his message.

“Ben!” he called again.

Ben appeared in front of Julian with an epic case of ‘bed head’, hazel eyes like Julian’s blinking in the artificial light. Julian couldn’t help but grin at his old friend and mentor. He was wearing an Iron Maiden T-shirt, no doubt original. Julian couldn’t help but think of the musical or fashion historians who would be weeping at the desecration of an important historical artefact.

“Julian, why are you speaking Prakrit?” Ben asked curiously in that same language.

“Oh! Garak has my quarters bugged,” Julian said in Prakrit, laughter in his voice, the gleam in his eyes easily discernible.

“But you can circumnavigate those easily surely?” Ben said, a little furrow between his brows.

“Oh, I know,” Julian said casually. “But Garak was particularly sweet this evening so I thought I would give him a reward for all his patient effort in trying to catch me communicating with another Remnant,” Julian said brightly.

“But he won’t know what we are saying, you know that the scholars were never able to accurately reproduce vocalisation of the language,” Ben said pointing out the flaw in Julian’s plan.

“Yep!”

Ben just raised an eye at Julian, by the glee in his expression Julian was obviously keen to share his brilliance with someone.

“Just think of all the hours of fun Garak will have trying to decipher the language,” Julian explained happily. “Besides it’s educational. He just best appreciate all the effort I am going to, teach him these valuable life lessons,” Julian cheerfully told him.

Ben shook his head and chuckled at Julian’s antics. “I assume you are not calling me to explain how you are expanding the horizons of your poor Cardassian?”

Julian expression lost some of the cheerfulness of when he had been discussing Garak.

“I went through the wormhole today,” Julian started, all lightness gone from his expression now. “It was simultaneously better and worse than I expected.”

Ben nodded, noticed the change in Julian’s mood. He didn’t look different from any other time he had seen Julian since he took his new form. Not surprising really, Ben didn’t know of any external force that could change a Remnant’s health for any extended period. Which was always perfect.

“Go on Julian.”

“Well, the first time I went through I died,” Julian continued.

Ben was mildly surprised to hear this. “How?” Ben asked.

"It felt like being electrocuted," Julian explained, his hand absentmindedly rubbing his forehead as he recounted the day's events. "Everything seemed normal until we entered the wormhole. Then, I was inundated with the wormhole's energy, like drowning in its overwhelming power," he added, grappling with words to precisely convey the intense sensation.

“I have never felt the like before,” Julian said, brow deeply furrowed now, as he looked internally for a similar experience. “The closest I can come to, was when I was electrocuted in that shuttle accident, when I was at the academy,” Julian explained.

Ben couldn't help but grin at Julian when the shuttle accident was mentioned. Having these little titbits of information was always useful to deflate someone's ego if they were getting too big for their boots.

Julian gave Ben a fierce scowl at the mocking grin, and sniffed and tossed his head.

“Unfortunately, I only got incomplete data going through the first time,” Julian said. “But on the way back to the Alpha Quadrant, I was able to prepare,” Julian said with a satisfied smile this time. “So, I was able to get a full sensor sweep of the area, and I used one of the sensors I designed myself, to get quantum readings too.”

“That’s good,” Ben said with an eager look. He too was designed by their makers to have endless curiosity. It was always thrilling to come across something unique.

“I haven’t had time to analyse any of the readings yet myself,” Julian frankly said. “I put everything on this data chip,” Julian said holding up the chip for Ben to see, reaching forward Julian put his hand through the mirror and dropped the chip in Ben’s waiting hand.

“We will start working on this straightaway,” Ben said with a pleased smile, closing his fist around the valuable chip.

“Of course, as this happened in the shuttle craft, Star Fleet will also have a copy of the data,” Julian said with a shrug.

“Don’t worry, our security protocols are up to date,” Ben told Julian. “As soon as the data hits Star Fleet headquarters, our background programs will start altering the data contained in the files they receive,” Ben said, confident that their own technology was easily a match for Star Fleet.

Ben had learned a very long time ago when science was being developed in to the discipline that scientists would recognise today, that data was everything. Ben had figured out that it was better to corrupt the data instead of making it disappear. A few tweaks here and there and the results were no longer reliable.

Looking at Julian’s face, Ben knew that Julian was well aware of this fact and often used corrupt data to hide in plain sight. Though Julian being a true scientist, it pained him to mess with another scientists data. But he knew it had to be done, to protect the Remnants and their secrets.

Julian also had plenty of experience, directly or as a witness, with what could happen to a Remnant if a mortal got a hold of the unadulterated information.

“Thank you, Julian,” Ben said with a smile and a nod. “We will probably hold a scientific exploration to the wormhole to see what we can see,” Ben continued. “Though if we do come, we will be accompanied by at least one field Watcher,” Ben said, warning Julian.

Julian groaned and grimaced at the thought of a Watcher being on the station. Watchers were unbelievably annoying, especially if they knew who you were. And just smug if they didn’t. Julian shook his head, “I look forward to seeing you old friend,” Julian said warmly.

Julian reached out and closed his side of the mini portal until he was just looking in a normal mirror again in his too bright bathroom. He looked at his reflection for a moment, before turning and returning to his bed And Garak. The lights flicked off as the washroom door closed behind Julian.

END

Chapter 14: Remnant Visitors

Chapter Text

Interview

The lights were bright in Commander Benjamin Sisko’s office, causing reflections to bounce of Sisko’s highly polished desk. The desk’s dark surface allowed Julian to see a distorted reflection of himself, a very unflattering view.

Julian wanted to pull at his collar, as the commander liked to keep his office at a balmy 25C, a nod to his New Orleans upbringing. Thankfully the humidity was only set to 50%. Yet the atmosphere in the office felt repressive to Julian.

Julian’s knee was bouncing up and down under the table as he sat before Sisko, who appeared visibly displeased, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“It seems that the Remnant Prime has decided to visit us here on the station,” Sisko said, his tone accusatory.

“Yes sir,” Julian said. As always Julian kept a neutral appearance even though he was in turmoil internally, when speaking with Commander Sisko. Julian was sensitive to the not so secret prejudice his Commander felt for Remnants.

Julian’s relationship hadn’t improved much over the last five months, except now the Commander will begrudgingly acknowledge that Julian was a competent Doctor.

“How did he hear about your wormhole experience?” Sisko asked in accusatory tone, scowling at Julian.

“I informed the Watcher Organisation,” Julian said calmly. “As per Starfleet Directive 14.7-C: Remnant Disclosure Protocol, I am required to report any anomalies to the Watcher Organisation,” Julian said.

Julian pressed his knee still with his left hand, to stop it knocking against the table edge and giving away Julian’s anxiety.

Sisko clenched his teeth, his frustration clear. He was well aware of the directive, acknowledging Julian's entitlement to report to the Watchers. It was a fundamental right enshrined during the negotiations at the inception of the Federation. This included two key provisions: firstly, Starfleet was prohibited from conducting experiments on Remnants; secondly, Remnants serving within Starfleet had the explicit right to report directly to the Watcher Organization about any matters directly affecting the health and well-being of their kind.

Sisko was illogically annoyed with Julian for reporting to his own people, while he simultaneously reported to Star Fleet headquarters, what had occurred to Julian, on his first trip through the wormhole.

Sisko couldn’t help it, every time he was in the presence of the young man, he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He had to force himself not to shiver.

It was their seamless ability to blend in with Humans and that no one could tell the difference, unless they gave themselves away. It felt like they were spying on them. They were so secretive. They were impervious to most injuries, stronger, faster and more intelligent than the humans they resembled. They just felt dangerous.

Dax didn’t like Julian herself, she just didn’t dislike him either. She said she found Remnants insufferably smug. But she was three hundred years old, she wasn’t blind to her own faults. So recently she had been trying to see a more balanced view of Julian. He was a good Doctor, and he was developing in to a competent officer. She was trying to keep that to the forefront of her mind when interacting with the man.

To this end she had pointed out to Sisko, the blatant discrimination Remnants faced in the extremely anti genetic-modification society, that the Federation currently was.

Sisko didn’t like to be reminded about this discrimination, preferring to think that the Federation had overcome it’s prejudices of earlier times. But he had studied history, especially from the point of view of his own people and the terrible injustices they had suffered through large parts of history. It just annoyed him even more when Jadzia pointed out the similarities to Sisko.

Sisko sighed as he looked at the young man sitting before him. “It seems he will be arriving in the next three hours on the science vessel ‘Newton’s Gold,” Sisko informed him.

Now Sisko was going to have to deal with the Remnant Prime. His face tightened at the thought. Star Fleet didn’t even know how the Prime was chosen. Some how they never seemed to have any images on earlier Primes and the so called Watcher Organisation refused to share any information with them.

“Yes, Sir,” Julian said, trying not to look too excited about seeing Ben again on the station. He was looking forward to showing Ben around his current home.

Sisko pulled up the latest image of this Prime. He studied the Remnant’s, light eyes, pale face, dark salt and pepper hair, a slender build, tallish at 184 cm. He again seemed extremely ordinary. So ordinary that he would just blend back into any crowd and go unnoticed. Sisko shifted in his seat.

“Do you know why the Prime is coming to Deep Space Nine?” Sisko said, giving Julian a hard look.

Julian furrowed his brows slightly, was this a rhetorical question? Surely it was obvious. Julian was unsure if Sisko wanted him to answer or not.

Sisko started to drum his fingers on the table in impatiens.

“Yes sir,” Julian said. “They want to do some studies on the wormhole in light of my reaction when I went through to the Gamma Quadrant,” Julian explained. There was no point in keeping this information from Star Fleet, it would after all be blatantly obvious to any observers.

Sisko narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “There has been no request submitted to Star Fleet about any research mission,” Sisko said.

Staying calm, Julian tried for a relaxed and open expression. “I, erm, think they sent a request directly to the Bajoran government,” Julian said, hoping Sisko wouldn’t explode. Julian drew in a subtle calming breath. All requests for scientific access to the wormhole went directly through the Bajoran's, it was after all in Bajoran space and inhabited by Bajoran Prophets.

“We don’t have any records of a natural phenomena interacting with Remnants in such a negative manner,” Julian tried to explain. “The Remnant scientists just want to understand what happened,” Julian said with a shrug, hands open wide. “I mean as Chief Medical Officer I will no doubt be needed to pass through the Gamma Quadrant. I don’t think it will be pleasant for anyone if every time I do, I vomit over my station,” Julian pointed out practically.

Sisko gritted his teeth at this reasonable response and swung his chair around so he could look out his window over the star field beyond Deep Space Nine. Bashir was the highest ranking medical officer on board. He would be required to travel to the Gamma Quadrant if necessary, and they should address his extreme reaction to wormhole travel.

Swinging back to face Bashir. “Will he be alone?” Sisko demanded.

Right, this was the hard part, how much to explain. “Well, there is the standard crew on board, they will all be part of the Watcher Organisation, it’s their ship,” Julian said, carefully weighing his words before speaking. “I am not sure, but I think the crew will only number three people. Ben... I mean the Prime said that their will be a field Watcher to observe and record the results of any experimentation,” Julian said hoping he was projecting a trusting facade towards his Commander. “I would presume some scientists too,” Julian finally added with a shrug.

Julian genuinely didn’t know who was coming with Ben, he just hoped it was the one field watcher and that he would take them away with him, when he returned to Remnant Headquarters in Paris. Julian figured that Ben would tell him all he needed to know when he got here. The thought made him want to smile, as he imagined taking Ben to Quark’s and introducing him to the friends he had made on the station.

Sisko rubbed his forehead absently. There was nothing he could do, the Remnant Prime was free to come and go as he pleased and Sisko had no jurisdiction over his actions. Julian was free to tell his Prime any information directly relating to him. There was nothing for him to do now but dismiss the Doctor back to his duties.

“Thank you, Doctor Bashir. You are free to go,” Sisko said with a curt nod towards the door.

You didn’t have to tell Julian twice. He practically jumped up from his chair and dashed for the exit, glad that this meeting was over.

Julian hurried through the Command Center, giving Nerys and Miles a friendly nod, as his two friends were still on duty. Julian stepped on the lift platform and eagerly pressed the icon to bring him to the corridor below. He had so much to do before Ben arrived on the station. Julian didn’t try to hide the happy smile on his face as he disappeared from view of his friends.

Clean-up

Garak picked up his teacup and took a sip of the liquid within and grimaced. ‘Cold,' he had obviously been sitting in the one position for too long. Garak stretched his neck, hoping to loosen the tense muscles as he sat in his warm quarters.

Garak was looking at his private Remnant files, he frowned in frustration as he continued Trying to crack the code Julian was using when he was speaking to the unseen Remnant. Garak had finally found that Julian was communicating in the washroom with his superior. Something of a cliché really.

Though Garak hadn’t been able to find the device Julian was using.

His door chimed, before the door opened and Julian rushed in looking harassed, Garak frowned in concern at his appearance. He didn’t make the rookie mistake and immediately shut down his pad. That could draw attention to what he was doing.

He casually placed the pad, screen down on the table, knowing in a minute the device will lock automatically.

He turned to look at Julian in surprise, as he watched the other man get on his hand and knees to look under his chairs.

“My dear, though the view is delightful, what are you looking for?” Garak said as he stood from his chair as he walked towards Julian, ready to help if the other man had lost something.

“I am checking for dust bunnies,” Julian’s muffled voice said.

“Dust bunnies?” Garak said, tilting his head in puzzlement. Standard had such colourful phrases.

“Dust, dirt, lost underwear,” Julian said as he crawled around the floor in Garak’s quarters.

If Garak had eyebrows they would be merged with his hair line at this response. As if Garak’s quarters would be anything but pristine. “I don’t know if I should be offended by your impromptu inspection,” Garak said as he watched Julian jump to his feet and go over to Garak’s display case and appeared to inspect for dust.

“I have a cleaning bot that cleans the floor twice daily and the air filters are sufficient to remove any dust particles generated from the air,” Garak informed Julian, bewildered at his actions.

Julian head to Garak’s washroom, Garak followed him.

“The Prime will arrive in an hour,” Julian said as he opened Garak’s wall cabinet and straightened the contents within. “I will be giving Ben a tour of the station and I want to make sure that he gets the best impression of the station,” Julian firmly closes the cabinet door, as looks at the facilities suspiciously, seeming to give the air a sniff.

“As soon as I found that he would be arriving this evening, I instructed a deep clean of the infirmary,” Julian barely spared Garak a look as he went about his quarters, repositioning Garak’s cushions, and throws. “I just finished tidying my own quarters,” Julian said, finally aiming a distracted smile at Garak.

Garak was confused.

“And the Remnant Prime will want to inspect my personal quarters?” Garak questioned as he now followed Julian to his bed chamber.

“When was the last time you changed the bed clothes?” Julian asked, ignoring Garak’s question in his frantic inspection.

“Yesterday morning,” Garak said tentatively.

Julian tsked, shaking his head in clear disappointment in Garak slovenly nature. Julian began to efficiently strip the bedding from the bed. He deftly folded the sheets and covers before bringing them to the recycling unit to refresh the sheets and blankets. A few quick instructions to the unit and Julian was walking back to the bed with the now clean bed clothes.

“Will you help me to make the bed?” Julian asked as he shook out the cover sheet.

Sighing Garak decided to help his lover, hoping Julian would explain himself.

“You are important to me, so of course I will be introducing the Prime to you,” Julian said frankly.

Garak looked in surprise at Julian, his heart skipping a beat. For some reason his stomach flipped over anxiously at the thought of Julian introducing him to the Prime. This seemed to be a marker of the seriousness of their relationship.

“It’s only natural after the introduction that we might invite Ben back to your quarters for a drink,” Julian explained as he expertly spread Garak’s various blankets and warm covers on the bed. With a final smooth of his hands, Julian stood back and admired his work.

Garak’s head was still spinning, he couldn’t believe that Julian wanted to introduce him to the Prime himself. That could be the most valuable information Garak has gathered to date. Garak wondered if he would be able to capture an image of the man. His pulse jumped in his neck.

Julian swiftly turned and went back into the living room, Garak trailing behind him.

“Do you think that is wise dear?” Garak said, as Julian went over to a hidden cubby where Garak stored is alcohol out of sight.

“What do you mean?” Julian said over his shoulder and then went back to inspecting Garak’s drink choice. Julian sighed at the poor selection. Ben wouldn’t be impressed with replicated synthonol. Ben was and is a master brewer and had been for thousands of years. What he didn’t know about brewing alcohol wasn’t worth knowing.

“Is it wise. I am a Cardassian,” Garak said. “You never know I might be a spy,” he continued. Garak was feeling uncomfortable now. Meeting the Prime seemed beyond the fun games he and Julian had been playing. Garak felt compelled to warn Julian about the potential meeting, that it could be dangerous to the Prime.

Smiling Julian walked towards Garak and kissed him soundly. “I know we like to play at spies, but I trust you,” Julian said softly stroking Garak’s eye ridges tenderly. And Julian did know that so far, he could trust Garak. After all he had bugged Tain’s computer, and he knew Garak hadn’t contacted his father yet or anyone else in the Obsidian Order.

In fact, Julian’s programs were constantly scanning Cardassian Military network as well as the public network and apart from the odd grumbling from Gul Dukat, no one was talking about Garak at all.

Though that could change soon, as Tain had finally noticed his son was having an affair with a Remnant.

“Besides the Prime negotiated our treaty with the Federation and Star Fleet,” Julian told him with a confident smile as his fingers stroked Garak’s hair at the back of his neck. “I think he can manage a single Cardassian Tailor,” Julian told Garak. “Even if it turned out he is a spy.” Julian grinned at Garak before giving him another quick kiss.

Garak wanted to groan, why did Julian just tell him that. Seriously Julian would make a lousy spy. He didn’t even think that the Federation knew that the current Prime was the same Prime from two hundred years ago. Julian had just blithely given away this critical piece of information. Garak shook his head.

Julian brought his attention back to Garak. “Your drink selection is appalling and will not impress the Prime at all,” Julian said sternly. “Lucky for you I know what his favourite drink is, and I have a contact,” Julian told him cheerfully.

Julian started towards the exit, “I will get a couple of bottles, I will slip some credit to Nog and get him to deliver two bottles to you,” Julian said looking thoughtfully at Garak. “It will probably be best if you can replicate a bucket of ice and you can put the bottles into chill,” Julian said as he finally rushed from the room as quickly as he entered it.

Garak looked at the space Julian was just standing in, feeling dazed. Garak lets his eyes drift about his quarters. ‘Should I get the bot out again to give the floors an extra clean?’ Garak wondered. Before giving his quarters an extra straighten.

Welcome Aboard

Julian was bouncing on his toes and generally trying to vibrate out of his skin. Julian had changed into his formal Dress tunic to welcome the Remnant Prime. His hands were compulsively smoothing out his uniform Tunic.

Jadzia Dax just looked in bemusem*nt at Julian’s fidgeting. His hair had been neatly combed when he first approached the airlock where Newton’s Gold was docking. But he had since ran his hand nervously through his hair, so now his dark curls were in disarray.

Nerys was trying not to be too aggravated by her friend. When they had developed their relationship she had, had to accept Julian’s over excited personality.

She had been nervous when the Kai had first come aboard Deep Space Nine. She too had wanted to show off the station to its best appearance.

Nerys reached out her hand and gripped Julian’s forearm tightly, hoping it would help calm the younger man.

Julian turned his attention from the airlock display, a little frown appeared on his face.

“What?” Nerys said.

Julian made a moue with his mouth, “You could have worn your Dress Jacket,” Julian admonished gently.

Nerys scowled at Julian, she hated the dress uniform. If protocol didn’t demand it, she wasn’t going to wear it.

“Protocol doesn’t require us to wear our Dress uniforms,” Jadzia interjected, her smile tight.

In a rare occurrence, Julian showed his anger on his face, at her response. Any other Species official representative would have dictated that the Dress Uniform be worn. Julian was angered that the Prime wasn’t being shown the respect his position deserved. A scowl momentarily clear on his face, teeth gritted as he turned his attention to the display.

The Prime’s ship was docked, and they were just waiting for the pressure in the airlock to equalise so that the two airlock doors could be opened.

Finally the light turned amber on the panel, showing the doors could be activated.

It was strange how the subtle differences between species could be expressed in the most ordinary places. On a human ship, green would be the colour of readiness and safety. While the Cardassian colour indicator was amber, to denote the same thing. Bajor had been under Cardassian occupation for sixty years and most of the Bajoran people had subconsciously adopted the same colour schemes for various icons.

Nerys had told Julian, that there were serious debates about trying to change this warning colour scheme in the Government. The majority agreed in principle in changing the colours from Red, Orange, and Amber, to a different colour, the problem was that iconography wasn’t universal before the Cardassian conquered the Bajoran people and the different factions couldn’t agree on what the new icons and colours should be.

Julian had mentioned this to Garak, who made the truly insensitive remark, that it was one of the benefits Cardassia had bestowed on Bajor.

This was one of the few occasions that Julian was genuinely angry with the Cardassian. During Julian’s extremely long life and the fact that he had originally been born into a small city state. Julian had witnessed imperial expansion into his homeland many, many times over the centuries.

The aggressors would couch their actions in the language of doing it for the benefits of the natives. Which was self serving propaganda. The only reason they ever invaded was for wealth, land, power and natural resources.

Julian had expressed his opinion so forcefully that Garak’s ear’s were ringing from the rebuke Julian served him. That the only possibility Garak had was to apologies profusely and throw himself on Julian’ generous heart to forgive him.

Garak had been amazed on the elegance and quite frankly the most impressive rant on the subject he had ever heard. He was sure if Cardassian Military Command had ever got a talking to from Julian on the matter, they would have slunk away to never return.

Even worse Garak had made this flippant remark in Quark’s, so the whole of the station were witness to the argument and Julian’s epic throw down. Garak may have been embarrassed, but it had done wonders for Julian’s reputation on the station. Strangely this somehow improved Garak’s standing on the station too, as he noticed a subtle warming to him from the stations denizens, there was also an uptick in his business.

Julian was brought back to the present as the airlock cycled through the opening mechanism, with the accompanying clicks and thumps, before the large door rotated open, revealing the Remnant Prime, Ben.

Julian smiled broadly at the other man, his blood humming happily in his ears as he took in his old friend. Tall and lean, clean shaven today, jaw strong, a sensitive wide mouth stretched in a sardonic grin, his prominent nose highlighted in the harsh lights of the corridor. He was still maintaining the appearance of a man in his mid-sixties, silver at his temples.

Ben stepped forward arms open wide, and Julian hurriedly stepped into the offered embrace. Ben’s long arms wrapped around Julian’s narrow frame, enjoying the feeling of the younger man’s hug.

Nerys and Jadzia shared a surprised look with each other. It appeared unexpectedly that Julian was a close acquaintance of the Prime as the two women observed the meeting.

Nerys seeing the greeting, now felt more forgiving to Julian’s excessive anxiousness earlier, it appeared Julian was close to the Prime, ‘were they family?' Nerys wondered.

Jadzia could feel the tightening of her expression, she tried to relax. But she couldn’t help feeling that Julian’s now demonstrated closeness to the Remnant Prime was another demonstration of the Remnants secretive nature. It made her uncomfortable, that someone as open and naive as Julian, could so naturally hide vital parts of their personality and history.

Julian stepped back from Ben, “Welcome to Deep Space Nine,” Julian said, throwing his arm wide in a welcoming gesture, while giving space to enter the station proper.

Jadzia getting her first good look at the Prime, had an appreciative gleam in her eye as she took in the attractive confidence in the older looking man. His crows feet at his warm hazel eyes spoke to breadth of experience that Jadzia could appreciate. ‘Mmmm, maybe having the Prime on board could be interesting after all,'

Nerys took in the Prime, his laconic frame, he expressed warmth and a relaxed persona. Nerys wants to slump and smile at the man, feeling the tension drain from her body. She caught this unusual reaction and instead straightened her spine, determined not to smile at the man like a fool.

Nerys caught Julian’s frankly adoring look, which suddenly switched to a scowling frown. Nerys turned her head towards the door and noticed a well built man of about fifty step through the airlock. Blond hair casually tousled, broad shoulders defined in a well fitted jacket. The other man had an air of arrogance, which Nerys had subconsciously came to expect from Remnants.

‘But why is Julian looking so confused and angry at the other man?' Nerys thought.

‘Ooh! Handsome,' Jadzia’s eyes widened in appreciation as the handsome man in his fifties stepped through the air lock confidently. Jadzia noticed him giving her the once over, his ice blue eyes showing interest. Jadzia felt a flutter of attraction for the second man.

“Doctor Erik Nordgaard,” Erik said, his voice deep and smooth.

“The Doctor Erik Nordgaard the Quantum Physicist?” Jadzia practically gushed.

Erik inclined his head in acknowledgement, smiling indulgently.

“I read your paper ' Quantum Entanglement and Wormhole Dynamics: Bridging Cosmic Rifts’, it was both brilliant and fascinating. I would love to discuss it further,” Jadzia eagerly suggested.

“Maybe dinner?” Erik suggested with a knowing look.

Julian couldn’t believe his eyes, Dax was blushing at the other Remnants suggestion. Julian’s thoughts were in turmoil and confusion. The Remnant felt extremely young, a juvenile, with little power and no control over his quantum life force. The life force he did have was swirling about in a confused mess of tendrils, flicking over Ben and Julian. ‘But how can he look as old as he does?' Julian thought, shooting a puzzled look at Ben. Ben just gave him a subtle ‘I will tell you later look.’

Erik set Julian’s teeth on edge. Some youthful Remnants who had not been brought up in Remnant culture could be ignorant of Remnant societies social cues, mixed in with human arrogance and assumption of privilege due to apparent age.

Julian would be considered an elder in Remnant society due to his extreme age and his high power level. Erik should be showing deference in Julian’s presence. Even at Erik’s young age he should be able to recognise Julian’s control over his quantum life force, an obvious indicator of Julian’s rank to a more experienced Remnant. Yet Erik had strutted on the station and totally ignored Julian’s presence.

Julian wanted to lash out with his quantum life force and bring the other Remnant to his knees. But Julian had superlative control and at his full power he might hurt Nerys or Dax. Julian sighed and gave Ben a light smile. Understanding that Ben would correct the young man when they were back on Newton’s Gold.

Nerys noticed Julian’s instant dislike of the older man and narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the handsome Doctor who was currently flirting shamelessly with Dax. If Julian didn’t trust the man, she would keep a close eye on him too. She will let Odo know about Julian’s reaction so he could keep an eye out for the other man.

“Julian!” a softly accented female voice said.

“Mei!” Julian said with surprised delight. “What are you doing here?” He asked, step forward and gave her the traditional three kisses on the cheeks, in the Swiss fashion.

“What are you doing here? The last I heard you were off to study history at the Sorbonne,” Julian asked warmly.

“I did go to the Sorbonne to study history and then Oxford for my PHD,” Mei said proudly.

“Ahh, so it’s Doctor Li Wei now?” Julian said pleased for his old friend.

Mei blushed, “Yes. But I got accepted into the Watcher Organisation and I’m here as a field watcher,” Mei said.

“Congratulations,” Julian said. He excitedly grabbed Mei’s hands and brought them to his lips to kiss in congratulations.

“Nerys, this is Mei, my good friend from high-school,” Julian said turning to Nerys and gesturing to Mei.

“Hello, welcome to Deep Space Nine,” Nerys said, curious about this new woman on the station. She still wasn’t clear what Watchers actually were and how they interacted with Remnants. Nerys supposed she would have the opportunity to find out. She gave Julian a look out of the corner of her eye and wondered how Garak would react to the attractive woman.

“Mei was my first serious girlfriend in school,” Julian explained further, cheeks flushed pink. “She really helped me settle in at the Watcher institutes school after my step-father exposed me as a Remnant,” Julian told Nerys.

“Well, I am glad to meet a friend of Julian’s,” Nerys told her with a friendly look. “Though I really don’t understand what a Watcher actually is?” Nerys said, deciding she might as well try and satisfy her curiosity.

“Generally, we are trained historians or anthropologists who are trained to monitor and record the actions of the Remnants in the world,” Mei explained to Nerys.

Nerys frowned at this explanation. It sounded invasive to her. “But doesn’t the act of being observed affects the behaviour of the subject?” Nerys said, an edge of censure creeping in to her voice.

“Well, some watchers function as an unobserved third party, where ideally the Remnant doesn’t know they are being watched and we record their life at a distance,” Mei said, a hint of strength in her tone. She had worked hard to be accepted into the Watcher Organisation, especially as she was not a legacy member. “But a lot of the time it is observing at close quarters and interviews with the Remnants and their friends,” Mei explained further.

Nerys noticed Julian stiffening beside her and decided that he was unhappy with her line of questioning. For Julian, Nerys forced herself to a more neutral expression. “That’s interesting work,” Nerys tried in a warmer voice. She felt Julian and Mei relax slightly.

Nerys now noticed the Remnant Prime watching her with a detached air. She caught his eye, and he gave her a knowing smirk, which sent a shiver down her spine. Why this was, she didn’t know. The Prime didn’t look threatening in any way.

“I wasn’t expecting three of you, but I have organised a tour of the station,” Julian said. With a wave of his arm, he suggested the party proceed him down the corridor.

“I am sure there will be plenty of time for all of us to catch up,” Ben said soothingly, directing a warm smile in Julian’s direction.

Julian sighed, the tension draining from his body. “This way then, I will show you the Promenade first,” Julian said, guiding the party down the bare corridor of Deep Space Nine.

Private Conversations

Ben sat sprawled on Julian’s loveseat in his quarters. Ben silently watched Julian with an amused look. It had been a busy first day on the station, which included a tour of the promenade, an introduction to Quark’s and an inspection of Garak’s quarters.

Julian had been more than pleased to see his old friend again as well as Doctor Li Wei. He was obviously less pleased with Doctor Erik Nordgaard. Ben understood, Erik by Remnant standards had been extremely rude towards Julian.

Ben sighed, he would talk to the other man in the morning. Other Remnants weren’t as forgiving and understanding as Julian, and if Erik wasn’t careful, he would end up with a very painful lesson indeed.

Erik hadn’t been in contact with the Remnant community growing up, most Remnant children were left to their human mothers to be raised. But they were still raised amongst Remnant society, going to school in one of the Watcher Organisation schools, where Remnant and Watcher children could mingle and learn together.

Unusually for Erik, his parents were in a relationship when Erik had been conceived. When his parents relationship ended, his mother decided to cut all contact with Remnants, until Erik was twenty eight and ready for his awakening ceremony. It meant Erik was wedded to human societal norms and perspective. It didn’t help that a quirk of genetics had resulted in Erik continuing to age until his fifty-fifth birthday, earning respect from humans due to his apparent age. It gave Erik a warped sense of his place in the Remnant hierarchy.

To Erik his advantage of apparent age, which could only be faked by ancient Remnants, didn’t compute and gave him an air of unearned arrogance, that generally set ancient Remnants teeth on edge. Erik was so young and inexperienced that he couldn’t use his own quantum life force to discern a fellow Remnants actual age or power level, and where they actually fit in the Remnant structured hierarchy.

Remnants had after all been designed to be soldiers. That hierarchy was very important to Remnant society and cohesion. It was especially important in case Remnants ever had to come together as a fighting force, for example during the Eugenics war.

It was why Ben was supervising Erik personally. Erik had an unfortunate habit of assuming all Remnants were the age they appeared to be, twenty-eight, and acting with a condescending air.

It would probably be a good idea to get Julian on board Newton’s Gold so he could put the young Remnant firmly in his place, which Julian couldn’t do on Deep Space Nine.

“Garak was nice,” Ben started with a smirk.

“I was really surprised he had one of my favourite beers,” Ben said, laughter in his eyes. “Especially as it is only brewed in Shanagarry. Garak must be a truly resourceful fellow,” Ben continued, slumping further in his chair, his amusem*nt clear.

Julian just sniffed and ignored Ben as he secured his quarters and activated his security features.

Julian finally turned his attention to Ben, “Let’s go,” he said, as he approached the closed door to his bed chamber. He reached out and quickly activated the portal he had created to the Gamma Quadrant. With a quick look over his shoulder, “Coming?” Julian said before stepping through the portal he had created.

Without a moments hesitation, Ben gracefully extracted himself from the chair he was sitting in and followed Julian.

Ben came out the other side of the portal with a laugh on his lips. He loved travelling through the portals, it was so exhilarating, like no other feelings he had ever experienced in his over ten thousand years lifespan.

“Where are we?” Ben asked looking around curiously, looking up he noticed the purple tinged sky. There was no sign of habitation, the only thing Ben could detect was clean air, with a higher concentration of Ozone and the muted sound of wildlife in the rain forest surrounding him.

It was then that Ben noticed that Julian had dropped his shields, and his quantum life force was pulsing like a warning beacon of a lighthouse.

“We are on X23C, in the Gamma Quadrant,” Julian said, as he inspected the area.

“Do I need to let loose too?” Ben asked curiously looking around the clearing for danger.

“You can if you want,” Julian said with a smile. “The planet has some six limbed predators, sort of a weird cross with a bear and cat,” Julian explained as he looked out in the bush. “Really vicious 5 cm claws.”

“Understood,” Ben said.

“I thought it would be useful if you wanted to set your key, in any of the boulders here,” Julian said.

Julian was kneeling on the ground in front of the flat stone in front of him, worn smooth by time and water. Julian quickly set his key in to the surface of the 50 cm diameter stone. Turning to Ben grinning, “Beer?” he asked eyebrows raised in question.

Ben who had been inspecting an interesting cliff face maybe 5m square, turned to look at Julian, “sure,” Ben said.

Ben just stood and watched Julian, as he created a mini-portal in the stone buried in the ground, he stuck his hand through and drew out two beers. Ben just shook his head in amazement, as he accepted the ice-cold beer.

Ben was powerful and he could create massive portals with his power. But Julian was the most skilful portal generator of any Remnant Ben knew. He could create a portal from anywhere to anywhere, on demand.

Ben had once seen Julian create a portal on the chest of an enemy he was fighting with, stick his hand in the portal pull out a dagger and stab his opponent he was fighting with in the neck with it. Needless to say, her friends had run away screaming in terror at the sight.

Julian was a vicious fighter. The world was a dangerous and deadly place. For the first ten thousand years the only combat was hand to hand. Every tribe, then city, then country, were constantly fighting for dominance. Julian had excelled at this skill and had thousands of years of experience. It was the last mistake of many a fool, who mistook Julian’s good looks and kind eyes, for weakness and challenged him.

And with Remnants memories, they never lost their skills, only built on them.

Julian was lounging on a large rock now, knee bent, the hand holding the beer resting on his knee. A gentle breeze in the clearing fluttered against Julian’s dark curls.

“What’s with Erik?” Julian said. Ready to listen to what Ben had to say.

Ben squatted, while holding his beer, he can stay in this position for hours, perfectly still. Ben sighed. “He was brought up by his human mother and was completely isolated from the Remnant community,” Ben started, rubbing his head thinking of the troubling young man.

“Ah, so you are trying to socialise him?” Julian said, understanding at once. It was rare these days. But in the olden days it was really common, especially when the progenitor technology wasn’t widely available. Mainly because they couldn’t allow it to fall in to the hands of ignorant humans.

A Remnant had no way to know which women had the genetic recessive gene that allowed them to conceive a Remnant child. Making it Pretty easy to lose track of a Remnant Child until someone stumbled on them when they had their awakening at 28. Or earlier if they managed to get themselves killed and drew the attention of an older Remnant, who could explain what was going on.

“But what about his looks, how come he looks so mature?” Julian said, taking a sip of his cold beer.

“He’s a sixth generation Remnant from the Aries line,” Ben said. “It’s just a weird quirk of his phenotype,” Ben shrugged, taking a long pull from the beer bottle.

“What really,” Julian said leaning forward eagerly at this news.

“That must mean he is Marcus’s son,” Julian guessed. “How come you are personally mentoring him?” Julian said.

“Marcus tried when Erik first awoke, but they are oil and water, Marcus came to me, he told me he was genuinely afraid he might kill the man,” Ben explained.

Julian grimaced and brought the bottle to his lips and finished the beer off. “I can sympathise. I have only known him for one day and I already want to kill him,” Julian said. “Another beer?” Julian said as he shook his empty beer bottle at Ben.

“Sure,” Ben said and quickly finishing his own bottle.

Julian hopped off of his rock and kneeled beside the same stone from earlier and activated the portal. He leant in and pulled out another two bottles. He set them beside him. “Hang on,” Julian muttered, he then braced himself with one strong arm and leaned all the way into the portal, obviously searching for something.

“Aha!” Julian cried triumphantly, he pulled out of the portal waving a jar of cashew nuts. The portal snapped shut after him.

Julian beckoned Ben over to his large rock he was sitting on. He gave the second bottle of Beer to Ben, before twisting off the lid to the jar of nuts. He emptied a generous hand full in Ben’s outstretched hand.

“Can’t he feel my quantum force? Or at least the control I am exerting over it?” Julian asked still puzzled over Erik’s actions.

“He does know how to recognise the force signature in others. Unfortunately, he has that youthful arrogance where he doesn’t realise how little he actually knows,” Ben said, with a weary shake of the head. “I have shown him my power, but at the moment, I look older than him, so it is easy for him to accept that I know more than him. The difficulty is that most Remnants look 28, so he has a disconnect between apparent and real ages of Remnants, even if he himself is 72 and still looks younger,” Ben crunches on the nuts in frustration.

“You will just have to flatten him when you both are on Newton’s Gold,” Ben suggested.

Julian sighed, “no problem. He is making it really easy for me”.

Forgetting about Erik, Julian looked around at the different rock formations. “Do you see any likely candidates for your portal?” Julian said, getting back to the real business of taking Ben to the Gamma Quadrant.

“Yeah, I like that one,” Ben said pointing out the large rock face, to the left. “It looks like it’s about 25m², I should be able to get a small runabout through it,” Ben suggested.

Standing up from the rock, resting his beer bottle next to the jar of nuts, Julian walks over to the rock face.

It has some nice looking strata and crevasses that look sort of square shaped. Julian could see it’s potential.

“Do you need help creating the portal?” Julian asked, turning to look back at Ben, who was now walking towards Julian. Julian wouldn’t be able to open a portal that size by himself.

“Nah, I can handle it,” said Ben.

Ben held up his hand and in two seconds he had embedded his own key into the surface of the rock.

Julian made sure to stand out of Ben’s way, as the other man concentrated and opened the much larger portal.

Julian whistled at the size of the thing. Ben could easily get a small runabout through the door.

Both men stepped through the portal, into a large hanger bay with various sized space craft sitting on the deck. Smelling of oil and cleaning fluid.

“Sweet,” Julian said as he slowly spun in place. The large space was fully enclosed, very much like Julian’s secret storage space. But unlike Julian’s vault there were no rocky walls, just smooth duridium walls, floors, and ceilings.

“Is this a floating box or is this constructed in… an asteroid?” Julian asked. His own senses told him they were floating in space, he wasn’t sure what they were floating in.

“It’s an artificial asteroid,” Ben said with a grin. “Any ship scanning it will see the most boring useless piece of floating rock they’ll ever see,” Ben said, proud of his ingenuity.

“Cool. But damn, asteroid belts are sure useful” Julian said with his own grin.

“Why don’t you add your own key over there,” Ben said, pointing to a wall, where a door frame had been added, without any actual door there.

Julian trots over to the door and quickly sets his key in the frame.

“Do you want to go back to X23C or my quarters?” Julian said looking to Ben for an answer.

“Oops!” Julian said. “I have to clear our waste,” he quickly opened a portal and disappeared, only to return three minutes later. “Now I am ready,” Julian said with a smile.

“Back to your quarters I suppose,” Ben said with a shrug.

Julian opened the portal again and in moments both Remnants were back in Julian’s quarters.

“I can’t believe Erik is having dinner with that Trill lieutenant,” Ben commented, while Julian walked around his room stopping his security measures.

“Yeah!” Julian said with a grimace. “You know before I met Garak, I asked Dax out several times and she turned me down flat,” Julian said with annoyance.

“I thought you were acting like a dick when you first came on board?” Ben said a puzzled look of remembrance on his face.

“Well yeah, but I was still less annoying than Erik,” Julian grumbled.

“I thought you hated dating the ‘long lived’ species, because they were arrogant know it all’s,” Ben pointed out.

Julian scowled. It really was annoying knowing someone so long, who also had a perfect memory.

“It’s the principle of the matter,” Julian said, crossing his arms defensively over his body.

Ben just through his head back and roared with laughter.

Ben walked over to Julian and drew him into his arms for a goodbye hug.

“It really is great to see you again, old friend,” Ben said gently.

Julian smiled warmly back at Ben, “It really is old friend.”

“Now why don’t you call that Cardassian of yours? Hmmm, if you get laid it might put you in a better mood,” Ben instructed as he released Julian and walked to the door that led back to the habitat ring’s corridor.

Julian harrumphed at the suggesting.

Ben just chuckled at Julian’s expense as he left the younger man’s quarters.

Erik

“Erik,” Ben called to the young man as he was walking down the bright corridor of Newton’s Gold.

Erik slowed, stopped, and turned towards his Prime. An insolent look crossed his face, “yes Ben,” Erik said haughtily.

Ben sighed; he was experienced enough to make sure he didn’t show his displeasure at Erik’s childish behaviour. “Let’s get a coffee in the mess, I want to discuss your behaviour towards Julian, yesterday,” Ben said calmly gesturing Erik to the small mess on the ship.

Erik just gives him a sour look of compliance, he stiffly walks to the mess, roughly pulls one of the six chairs from the oval table in the centre of the room. “I’m listening,” Erik said condescendingly to the Prime, as if Ben didn’t have the right to command Erik in any way he chose.

Ben’s face hardened immediately, hazel eyes going hard like flint, his body exuding power he generally didn’t deploy. His character had been hewed by time itself. Ben wasn’t going to take this level of disrespect from a pup.

Erik averted his eyes, his shoulders dropped, and he curved into himself at the unspoken rebuke from the leader of the Remnants.

Ben smiled at Erik with menace, eyes brilliant. “Julian is your superior, you may not be able to show it blatantly, but your tone of voice should be respectful when speaking to him,” Ben calmly stated.

Erik scoffed at this rebuke. “He’s not even 28 yet, I couldn’t even feel him in the quantum field,” Erik rolled his eyes as he dismissed Julian’s position in Remnant society.

“That is due to the fact, that you are a child, totally ignorant and wholly unskilled in the use of your quantum life force,” Ben’s eyes glinted as he spoke to the other man. Ben’s eyes narrowed as he took in Erik’s rebellious look.

“As a child, you do not have the clearance to know Julian’s mission, only that he is higher than you,” Ben said, trying to impress on Erik his insignificance in the Remnant hierarchy. Erik really was hampered by his unusual phenotype.

Due to the youthful appearance of most Remnants they had to strive to prove themselves as competent as they actually were in the human world. It endowed the Remnants with a certain amount of humility. It taught them not to ‘judge a book by it’s cover’. The one place they should be seen for what they were was in the Remnant world. Where Remnants can feel the power and control each member had. Neatly slotting them in to their place in the Remnant society.

Unfortunately, with Eric’s looks, in the human world, Erik receives automatic respect and an assumption of ability, he didn’t have to put much effort in earning. Unfortunately, with Earth's deep roots in patriarchy, whose biases still being felt, even on modern Earth. Circ*mstances which conspired against Erik to give him an inflated impression of where he actually stood in the world.

Erik took umbrage at the other’s man descriptions of him being an, an unruly child. “I have three degrees, from the Daystrom Institute itself,” Erik retaliated, his voice starting to rise. “I shouldn’t have to kowtow to a mere Star Fleet doctor,” Erik spat. “I looked him up, he didn’t even graduate first in his class,” Erik finished, forcefully accentuating his point by jabbing his finger on the table top.

“Julian is not a mere anything. It doesn’t matter what his current position is in the mortal society,” Ben said, teeth gritted now. “What matters is the position he holds in Remnant Society. You. Are. A. Remnant,” Ben enunciated clearly to Erik, leaning close to the other man. Ensuring Erik knew just how unhappy Ben was with his behaviour.

“You abide by my rules. I am the Prime, you are being told by me how it is,” Ben said, easing back in to his seat. Hoping the message got through to Erik.

Erik was enraged, and not thinking clearly. “You are not my Prime. I am from the Aries line, while you are the Prime for the Pieces Line,” Erik sneered. Not recognising the true danger, he was in at this point.

Ben just looked at Erik in shock. He didn’t just pull a ‘You’re not my dad, I don’t have to do as you say’. Ben sat back and let the ruthless calmness overtake his body.

Ben let a tendril of his life force snap from his body and slam into Erik, freezing him in place and squeezing slightly to enforce the danger Erik was currently in.

Erik’s face was flushed red, eye’s slightly bulging. He couldn’t move or breath.

“You will listen to me,” Ben said, in a pleasant voice. “I am the last surviving Remnant Prime. All my Prime brothers died long ago,” Ben continued. “I did not.”

Erik felt the slight loosening of the power holding him place, allowing him a shallow breath. Terror tore through Erik’s body. He would have been trembling if he could move at all.

“I inherited all of the responsibility from my fallen brothers,” Ben said, now appearing to be completely relaxed, the same genial man the world usually saw. “So yes, I am your Prime,” Ben continued. Exerting a little pressure through his quantum life force.

“Do you understand?” Ben asked, releasing the pressure.

Tears streamed from Erik’s eyes. “Yes sir,” Erik rushed out.

“Good.” Ben nodded and as quick as he sent out his quantum life force, he withdrew it back into himself. Ben looked dispassionately at Erik and hoped he would learn his lesson soon.

Erik slumped to the table top, breathing in gasping breaths and shuddering in place.

Ben stood from his chair and made to leave the room. “Remember Erik, you are not to betray any of Remnant business to outsiders,” Ben said, coldness creeping back in to his voice. “Don’t forget you can be ended,” Ben walked to the door leading to the corridor, before looking over his shoulder, “permanently.”

Ben stepped through the open door and left a trembling weeping Eric behind him.

‘Let’s hope that is enough,' Ben thought as he strode down the short corridor to his ready room to prepare for his tests in the wormhole. Ben sighed, ‘he may need to let Julian put him in his place.' Ben couldn’t help the slight curve to his lips. Erik would really try the patience of a saint.

Chapter 15: Ben's Visit on DS9

Chapter Text

Quark’s

Chief Miles O’Brien was off duty. His wife Keiko was at an agricultural conference on Bajor and Miles had asked young Jake Sisko to watch Molly for him, so he could unwind from a stressful week of duty. Nothing had particularly been wrong with the station for a change.

It was just that Julian was driving him insane. Every time he turned around, Julian was there, excitedly showing another aspect of the station to the Remnant Prime. A nice, friendly chap from what Miles had seen. Totally relaxed, quite different from Julian’s frenetic energy.

Julian was constantly coming to Miles, saying this or that had to be repaired or cleaned, because Julian was going to show it to the Prime, because Ben, as he told Miles to call him, mentioned it once in a passing conversation.

Miles had even caught Julian in a Jeffries tube, showing Ben the waste treatment system of the station. Because apparently Cardassian’s had a unique valve mechanism and Julian thought Ben might be interested in seeing it.

Ben had just smiled and shrugged, sharing a glance with Miles, as if to say, ‘What can I do, right?.’ Miles was proud of his work and the Station did have some unusual features, not seen in other Federation Star bases. However, he had no intention of displaying these unique aspects to the next admiral who happened to visit the station.

It just gave Miles a headache.

Just then he noticed the red hair of Major Kira, as she was entering Quarks.

“Major!” Miles called out to the other woman.

Looking around at the sound of her name Nerys caught sight of Miles his hand raised to catch her attention. Wearily she did a quick scan of the bar, before approaching the Chief.

“Chief,” Nerys said in greeting, eyes darting around as if looking for someone.

“Relax Major, Julian’s working,” Miles said with a grin as he saw the Major shoulders drop in relief. “He told me he had to do an emergency heart transplant so he couldn’t meet me for drinks,” he said with a knowing look.

Relieved, Nerys hitched herself up on to the stool. Here was as good a place as any, to have a drink.

Nerys scrubbed at her hair in a tired fashion. “I take it Julian has been driving you insane with this visit?” Nerys said, with an exhausted look, her tone weary.

“I can’t turn around without Julian being under my feet, pointing out this or that unique feature,” Miles said, resting his head in his hand. “He keeps sending me messages about areas of the station that need cleaning or repairs.”

“The same,” Nerys shakes her head. She brightens up when she sees one of Quark’s waiters coming towards her. She waves the Ferengi down and orders herself and the chief a drink.

“I didn’t mind the first lunch, and the discussion about the wormhole and Prophets,” Nerys said looking at O’Brien. “But every time Ben is back from a mission through the wormhole, Julian has been inviting me to lunch or dinner,” She sighs.

The waiter comes back with their drinks, and places them on the high table before them. Nerys pays for the drinks. He then darts back into the crowd to take the next order.

Smiling weakly at each other they take a sip of their respective drinks. Letting the chatter and occasional cry of ‘Dabo!’ wash over them. Just enjoying the peace, free from Julian’s anxious excitement.

Miles takes a deep draught from his mug, eyes lazily drifting over the noisy crowd before him, wondering if he should take a chance and order some food.

“So,” Nerys said, turning her attention back to O’Brien. “The Prime, is Julian’s dad right!” Nerys looks to O’Brien for confirmation. “I mean I am not imagining that am I?” she said.

“Yeah, he’s Julian’s Dad alright,” Miles confirms before taking another sip. “They have the same eyes,” Miles points out to Nerys.

Nerys felt relieved, reassured that she wasn't mistaken. "I mean, on his file, it says 'unknown' for father," she explained, leaning in closer to Miles as she rested one arm on the table, trying to make herself heard over the noisy bar. "Do you understand anything about Remnant families?" Nerys asked, hoping that Miles, being from Earth, might have a clearer understanding.

Still perplexed about Earth's, and consequently the Federation's, abhorrence to genetic engineering, Nerys couldn't help but reflect on Bajor's history. Before the Cardassians invaded Bajor, genetic engineering was permitted. If there were stringent medical ethics in place to safeguard the children born from such practices, she couldn't quite grasp what exactly the Federation's issue with it was.

“It’s one of the things that Remnants don’t discuss. I think they all have human mothers though,” Miles told Nerys. “Julian hasn’t mentioned anything about his father to me,” he added.

Since becoming friends with Julian, Miles’s perspective on Remnants had changed. He knew they were designed as soldiers and had even seen a few Remnant soldiers during the war with Cardassia. They just didn’t seem as threatening now. I mean what was scary about Julian or Ben? Miles thought as he sipped his beer.

“He only ever mentions his mother and Grandfather, if the conversation ventures into family discussions,” Nerys said. At that moment Nerys’s attention was caught by Doctor Li Wei, the watcher, her long black hair braided, swung between her shoulder blades as she walked down from Quark’s mezzanine.

“That’s something else I don’t get,” Nerys said pointing at the Watcher as she exited the bar. “Watchers, that just sounds damn creepy,” she said.

“Yeah, Julian doesn’t like them either, he said they are busybodies, who need to learn to mind their own damn business,” Miles shared with Nerys, as he too watched the attractive woman exit the bar.

“How fortunate that the Watcher Organisation, just happened to send a Watcher that Julian went to school with,” Miles said suspiciously, with a raised eyebrow.

“How fortunate indeed,” Nerys replied sending O’Brien a knowing look.

“You’re not going to tell the Commander or Dax about the Prime being Julian’s dad, are you?” Miles said tentatively, a look of worry on his brow.

Frowning savagely, “No,” Nerys said simply.

Nerys couldn’t help scrunching her nose at the thought of Dax, who was conducting an affair with the Remnant physicist who had travelled with the Prime. Jadzia had told her he was fabulous in bed. Nerys didn’t like the man, he acted condescendingly towards Julian.

It was obvious that Julian really didn’t like the Remnant scientist and the sentiment was returned full force. Nerys found him to be an arrogant know it all, who acted like he personally invented quantum physics.

Nerys smiled to herself as she took another sip of her drink as she remembered Julian catching him out the other day. Erik was discussing one of his pet theories when Julian brought up that it was a Doctor from QTII, who had first posited that theory. Erik had given Julian such a vicious look over it.

“Do you want another drink, Major?” Miles said as he stretched his neck trying to see where the waiter was. Just then he saw Garak trying to sneak into the bar, using the many shadows that enveloped Quark’s.

“Garak, over here,” Miles yelled.

Nerys jumped in her seat lost in her own thoughts. She hadn’t expected the chief to shout right next to her.

Once he had been noticed, Garak discarded the stealth he was trying to employ and sauntered over to the table.

“Good evening, Chief, Major,” Garak said, smiling pleasantly at the two crew members.

“Are you enjoying your freedom from your father-in-law?” Miles said, looking forward to teasing the mysterious Cardassian.

Garak stills at the question; his heart skips a beat. If the Prime was Julian’s father, then it made Julian a target.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Garak said trying to deflect the other man.

Nerys and Miles share a smile.

Garak wasn’t blind, he saw the adoring looks Julian bestowed on ‘just Ben,’ the easy acceptance from the Remnant Prime. The casual intimacy the two Remnants shared, hands on shoulders, nudges with elbows. Garak had even seen the Prime touching Julian’s hair.

He didn’t think they had been lovers. Garak, after all had an up close and personal observations on how Julian interacted with his lovers. With warmth and teasing affection. Besides Garak had another sample now in the lovely Doctor Li Wei, the watcher who had accompanied the scientific expedition to the wormhole.

Despite Julian's warm and respectful demeanour towards the human woman, Garak sensed a subtle separation or barrier between them.

Based on the evidence he had gathered, Garak deduced that Ben was much more likely to be Julian's family rather than a romantic partner. This conclusion it seemed was also shared by O'Brien and the Major, who had also come to the same understanding that Ben was Julian’s father.

Julian had spoken extensively about his human grandfather. Who Garak now knew made Julian’s finer pieces of knitwear, as well as some strange objects, like a tea-cosy, in Julian’s quarters. Julian had hinted that he had asked his grandfather to make Garak something, for a future gift, Julian had planned.

But of his Remnant family, he mentioned nothing.

Though with the introduction of Erik, whom Julian obviously detested. Garak had an exceptionally low opinion of the older Remnant. It was blindingly obvious to Garak and Julian’s closest friends, that the Prime was remarkably close to Julian and that Ben valued him highly.

Yet Erik continued to treat Julian in a way that bordered on disrespect. Erik totally ignored Ben’s flinty looks when this occurred.

It was through Erik that he had learned of the Awakening Ceremony that Remnants went through at 28 years old. When a Remnant became a young adult in Remnant society. Julian was only two months from this momentous occasion.

Garak realised straightaway from the shocked look on Doctor Li Wei’s face, that this was one of the many secrets that Remnants were maintaining. Julian had looked outraged and flushed at the mention of the ceremony. Especially as Erik snidely remarked that Julian shouldn’t be eligible because of some instance during Julian’s time at the academy.

“So, Garak,” Miles said, breaking into Garak’s thoughts. "Has Ben given you the shovel talk yet?” Grinning broadly at the Cardassian.

Nerys perked up at this conversational gambit. She wouldn’t mind tormenting the Cardassian for a bit.

From the looks on the Chief’s and Major’s face, Garak realised he was about to be the butt of a joke, ‘What’s a shovel talk?” Garak wondered, trying to work where this joke was going. “Shovel talk Chief! I didn’t know the Prime had shown any particular interest in gardening,” Garak inquired with a tilt of his head.

Garak wasn’t about to blithely walk into a trap the gruff engineer was setting for him. The day he fell for one of O’Brien’s jokes, was the day Garak should be taken out and shot.

“Oh, I know about this,” Nerys said, a gleam in her eye. “This is where a human father warns the prospective partner that if they hurt his baby boy, that they are really good at burying bodies” Nerys continued grinning, as she flicked her gaze between Garak and O’Brien.

“That’s the one Major. Of course, this is generally after they have asked the boyfriend, what his intentions are?” Miles said with a waggle of his eyebrows for emphasis. “Tell us Garak, has Ben questioned you on your intentions for our innocent Doctor?” Miles asked, still grinning.

Garak was trying to maintain his neutral expression. “Well, it sounds like a juvenile prank to me,” Garak said condescendingly to his two companions.

“Ahh! He must be softening you up, before he puts the fear of well, himself into you,” Miles said. “I mean Major, I thought Ben was giving Garak a suspicious look the other day, didn’t you?” Miles grinned gleefully again.

This was a strange experience for Garak. To be involved in friendly banter. Other Cardassian’s would never include Garak in their friendly jokes, as a feared member of the Obsidian Order. Though Garak was sure to employ a friendly manner on the station, to maintain his cover on Deep Space Nine. He didn’t know how to react to the friendly teasing.

“Oh definitely,” Nerys agreed with O’Brien, she was enjoying this game. “Sizing Garak up for sure,” Nerys added, enjoying the confused and cautious look on the Cardassian’s face. “I think he could take a simple Cardassian tailor. Don’t you Chief?” Nerys finished with a speculative look on her face, eyes bright with amusem*nt.

“Yeah! He’s rangy like Julian, not as young though, but surely a match for a middle-aged Cardassian,” Miles said before giving Garak an assessing look.

“Yes, and he would definitely know how to hide a body,” Nerys said sipping her drink, laughter obvious in her eyes.

“I can assure you all, that Julian is capable of hiding his own bodies,” Ben said laconically from behind the trio. Ben noticed that Garak was the only one at the table to not show his surprise physically. Miles gave a little yelp in startlement. Ben smiled to himself.

Nerys’s heart thudded in her chest; she couldn’t help the brief scowl that crossed her face. She was angry with herself that she had let her guard down enough that a stranger was able to sneak up on her. During the occupation, it was the sort of lack of concentration that would get a resistance member killed.

“What on earth are you drinking Miles?” Ben asked, pulling Miles’s drink towards his, taking a sniff and grimacing. “I am surprised Miles, a proud Irish man such as yourself drinking such swill,” Ben shook his head in sorrow.

“Quark, four of my special pale ales?” Ben roared across the bar, his voice somehow carrying across the crowded room with ease. Quark himself acknowledged Ben’s order. Leaning on the table, he exuded a relaxed attitude. “What are we talking about?” Ben said, with a gently enquiring look.

Miles had no words for the other man.

Garak decided to get a little revenge on his companions. “Oh, the Major and the Chief were trying to explain the shovel talk to me,” he said, smiling sweetly at the other two.

Ben who had exceptional hearing, had shamelessly eavesdropped before appearing before them.

“Oh dear!” Ben said with a slight frown. “Julian hasn’t frightened off one of your paramours with a shovel talk, has he?” Ben said with a tilt of his head, eyes wide and innocent.

“What! No!” Nerys emphatically denied, looking a bit flustered at this turn of events.

Miles was bewildered by this unexpected development. His joke didn’t seem that funny now he was ‘face to face’ with the Remnant Prime.

Garak meanwhile was enjoying the flustered look on the Chief’s and Major’s faces.

Just then a waiter produced their four drinks. He set them on the table before scurrying away. He wouldn’t ever admit it, but the strange alien always sent a shiver down his spine, as if a mudrat was about to pounce and eat him.

“Ahh!” Ben rubbed his hands in appreciation. “It’s my own program, drink up, be careful it’s not sythonol,” Ben said before taking his mug and drinking half the drink in one go.

Miles looked at the ale, it did look good. He took a cautious sip, then his eyes widened in surprise and delight and took a deeper drink. “This is really good,” Miles complimented Ben.

Nerys took a sip; it tasted like all the other ales she had ever drunk. It wasn’t her preferred drink; spirits were more to her taste.

Garak regarded his companions with a hint of suspicion, his gaze settling on the curious concoction before him. Tentatively, he brought the glass to his lips, taking a cautious sip of the yellow liquid crowned with a frothy head. His lips pursed, and he blinked in mild surprise, grappling with the unfamiliar blend of bitter and sweet flavours that danced across his tongue. The drink was thinner in texture than he expected. It was a taste foreign to his Cardassian sensibilities, unlike anything he had encountered on his homeworld.

As he continued to sip, Garak's attention shifted to Ben, his enigmatic demeanour and calm presence casting a veil of intrigue over the gathering, effortlessly drawing his drinking companions in. Despite his best efforts to pinpoint Ben’s motives, Garak found himself at a loss, unable to decipher the mystery that was Ben.

Observing Ben's relaxed and effortless charm, Garak couldn't help but feel a sense of perplexity. There was a certain ease to the Remnant Prime, a serenity that eluded Garak's understanding. Ben seemed different to the other long lived species Garak had met. He estimated that Ben must be at least as old as Dax. But even the most skilfully trained observer would not be able to tell from either Ben’s words or actions.

Garak felt that the Remnant Prime, Ben, may approach Enabrane Tain in his ability to deflect and mask his true capabilities. Knowing that Remnants were designed to be soldiers, Ben was the first example that truly lived up to the reputation of a dangerous foe that the Federation was obsessed over.

As Garak sipped his ale, slowly becoming accustomed to the taste he marvelled at Ben’s tall tales. How with practised ease the Remnant had persuaded all he encountered that he was completely harmless. Garak had even noticed Commander Sisko becoming less stiff around the man when they last met.

Maintaining a genial expression, Garak tried to repress the uptick in his pulse and the creeping feeling that he might be in danger. The surest indicator that Ben was a threat to his safety. Garak’s instincts hadn’t let him down yet.

As the group continued to enjoy their drinks and engage in lively conversation, Ben shifted the topic with his characteristic ease, seamlessly guiding the discussion to lighter fare. He regaled them with tales of his recent adventures beyond the station, weaving anecdotes that elicited laughter and camaraderie.

Garak, ever the astute observer, found himself drawn into the Remnant Prime's storytelling, intrigued by the glimpses of Ben's past exploits and the enigmatic aura that surrounded him. Despite his assessment that pinpointed Ben as a threat, Garak couldn't deny the magnetic pull of Ben's presence.

Though Garak felt that Ben’s pointed jabs about Julian’s own prowess as a fighter and a spy were a bit on the nose. At least on two occasions since being in Ben and Julian’s company, Julian had appeal to the authority of the Remnant Prime, that yes, Julian had superlative martial prowess and would indeed make an excellent undercover agent, if only he had the suitable training.

This did provoke uncharacteristic glares from Julian. Ben just laughed at Julian’s grumpy expression. Garak wasn’t sure if the Prime was mocking Julian, Garak, or the both of them at once.

With the hilarity that Ben obviously found these statements to be. Garak was a little annoyed on Julian’s behalf and that Ben, no matter his true relationship with Julian shouldn’t be so noticeable in his derision of the younger man.

Meanwhile, Nerys and Miles, caught up in the warmth of the moment, found themselves sharing anecdotes of their own, swapping stories of past missions and humorous encounters aboard Deep Space Nine. The tension that had lingered earlier dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect among the unlikely group of companions.

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed freely, punctuated by bursts of laughter and friendly banter. Ben's chilled energy infused the gathering with a sense of joy and camaraderie, bridging the divide between species.

For Nerys, and Miles, the unexpected encounter with the Remnant Prime proved to be a memorable experience, cementing their opposition to the Federation and Star Fleets stance against Remnant Augments. With meeting Julian and now Ben, it made Star Fleets stance of treating the Remnant population as a dangerous ally that they had to tolerate with the barest courtesy even more alarmist.

Both Nerys and Miles had been former soldiers. Many of their dearest friends were soldiers. They both rejected the premise that just because the Remnants were designed as soldiers and that some of them have fought as soldiers automatically meant that all Remnants were inherently dangerous to those humans around them.

The prejudices that Nerys observed towards Julian were nonsensical to her. He was a friendly and yes, at times an annoying friend. Maybe he did have the capability to be a super soldier with a lot of training. But that wasn’t who Julian was right now. At this moment, he was a caring doctor who just wanted to do the best for his patients, no matter who they were. Nerys could appreciate that.

As the night ended Garak, Nerys and Miles would need to return to their quarters to sleep, ready for the next days duties. All three of them were a bit wobbly on their feet, unused to the deceptively high alcohol content of the Ale they had been drinking. Though Garak made the best show of not being affected by the drink.

They all bid Ben a jovial good night and practically staggered out of Quark’s. Julian was an excellent doctor, and no doubt could give them a shot to cure them of their inevitable hangovers in the morning.

Ben grinned broadly. He was feeling as fresh as a daisy. His eyes drifted across the bar and wandered what else he could do for fun. He was in a devilish mood and wondered who he could torment next.

Julian truly did have an eye for exceptional lovers. Ben had noticed that Garak was the only person on the station who didn’t buy the ‘look at me I am harmless,’ schtick that Ben had perfected thousands of years ago.

“Dabo!” echoed through Quark’s.

‘Oooh! That might be fun,’ Ben thought with a gleam in his eyes. He wondered if he would be able to manipulate the game with his quantum lifeforce. Mmm, it might be fun to find out.

Ben sauntered towards the Dabo table, stopping a waiter on the way to ask for another of his special ales. He had given Quark the recipe in exchange for a lifetime supply of ale for free. He got Quark to make a contract to that effect too. Ben smiled to himself. Too bad Quark didn’t specify a time limit to that ‘lifetime’s supply,’ in the contract.

Sometimes it was the trivial things in an endless life span, which made it worth living.

Conversations with Tea

Nerys, was flicking through a report on her pad, drinking a tea at the Replimat. Sometimes she just needed the comfort of a bustling crowd around her. While she finished some non-essential work. It gave her a sense of peace, to see her people happy around her. Smiles and laughter overlay the memory of dark days of the Cardassian occupation.

Nerys sighed as she reviewed the endless list of supplies that were being shipped to the station. Resting her head on her hand, her mind drifted back to a successful supply raid on a Cardassian garrison. There were no Bajoran losses that day, just comradery between her fellow raiders. She had been so young, maybe sixteen. Where other memories were hazy, that one was still crystal sharp.

She took another sip of her tea and resolved to get this review completed in the next twenty minutes.

“Major Kira, may I sit here?”

Nerys snaps her head in the direction of the voice, she sighs. Doctor Li Wei was standing before her, her straight black hair, hung loose today. The other woman had a hopeful look in her brown eyes, which were similar in shape to Keiko O’Brien’s.

Nerys does a quick survey of the Replimat and sees all the other tables were occupied. Smiling tightly, Nerys just nods to the empty chair opposite her.

Nerys feels awkward in this social situation. She finds the idea of Watchers to be disturbing. The weight of the silence drags Nerys down. “You are not out with Newton’s Gold, today, Doctor Wei?” Nerys finally says.

Mei gives her a slight smile; she can feel she makes the older woman uncomfortable. “Not today, I feel I have observed everything I need to about the experiments,” Mei has ordered a delicate one person pot of water from the Replimat. She takes a tin from her bag and scoops fragrant tea leaves into the boiling water.

“It’s Li Wei, not just Wei,” Mei gently explains. “Like Bajoran’s in my culture family names precede personal names. Li Wei is my family name, while my personal name is Mei,” Mei smiles kindly at the Major.

Nerys grits her teeth as her cheeks burn. She doesn’t know how many times she has had to explain that same point to Federation members. Yet here she was making the same assumption. She even recalls Keiko explaining the same thing to her, when she was pointing out the cultural similarities that can occur in disparate parts of the Galaxy.

“Of course, Doctor Li Wei, my apologies,” Nerys gave Mei an apologetic smile.

“I was only pointing out a cultural similarity, I did not mean to embarrass you,” Mei takes a sip of her drink. “But you can call me Mei,” she concluded.

In the hustle and bustle of the Replimat, the scents of exotic foods float over them. Mei pours the tea into her waiting cup, next to two biscuit like confections called ‘Tuufu’ on the replicator menu. She was feeling a bit hesitant about trying the strange treat.

“Are they nice?” Mei asks the Major, pointing to the Tuufu.

“They’re ok, but not as good if they were baked fresh on Bajor,” Nerys says. She subtly shifts her body, trying to find a more comfortable position in her seat. Her eyes dart over to the alien doctor as she cautiously nibbles on the pastries, Nerys eyes flick to the nearest Chrono, it was 16:24. “They are usually eaten at breakfast with warm milk,” Nerys said trying to assuage the uncomfortableness she was experiencing.

“Oh really,” Mei takes a closer look, it does remind her of a flattened Danish pastry, it’s denser than the fluffy pastry. It also seems to have a sort of candied nut mixed into it. It tasted strange, not unpleasant, simply different from what she was used too.

“Do you dunk it in the milk?” Mei looked at the Major with a friendly smile, hoping it would help the Bajoran woman to relax.

“Dunk it, I don’t understand, my translator has interpreted that as ‘to submerge in water’?” Nerys says looking very puzzled. The universal translators were excellent at what they did, but sometimes they would come across a local word, which did not have an equivalent word in Bajoran.

Mei laughs pleasantly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Colloquially I use it to mean ‘to dip the food item,’ usually in a hot drink,” Smiling Mei explains. “I am astonished Julian hasn’t introduced you to it. He used to love dunking biscuits in coffee, when we were at school,” she said with a fond remembrance.

“No, Julian hasn’t mentioned ‘dunking’ to me before,” Nerys told Mei, much more comfortable with this innocuous conversation.

“I am surprised.” Mei takes a sip of her tea and another bite of the confectionary. “He used to eat ginger nuts by the plateful, when we used to study,” Mei sighed deeply. “Of course, being a Remnant, he can eat absolutely anything,” Mei leaned forward as if to confide into Nerys. “There are not many times that I would wish to be a Remnant, but to be able to eat absolutely anything you want, never do an hour of exercise and still look like a Greek statue,” Mei just shook her head in envy.

“They can eat anything?” Nerys asked curious despite herself.

“Yes, they were designed to convert anything resembling food into the calories they need and then discard excess calories,” Mei explained showing a hint of excitement as she explained her subject of study.

Nerys hadn’t known that about Julian but thinking of all the drinks and food they had shared since she had known him, he did seem to have a sweet tooth. “That does seem to be an enhancement I wouldn’t mind having,” Nerys agreed with Mei. She smiled more naturally at the watcher, before her expression slipped to a more neutral pose as she remembered the other woman’s job was to spy on Julian.

Mei noticed the warmth of a moment ago drain from the features of the major, she sighed. This was a strange experience for Mei. Most humans she met wanted to ask her questions about the Remnants or her opinions about Remnant’s rights. They didn’t usually have a problem because of her job.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, major?”

Nerys drummed her fingers on the table for a second. “Yes, you do,” Nerys said, frankly. Her bold personality not shying away from confrontation. “It just seems very invasive,” Nerys stated, she was more politic to not state that Julian didn’t like watchers.

“There are rules in place that govern our interactions with Remnants,” Mei brushed her hair behind her ear. “But history, accurate history is important to everyone in society, so we can learn from our mistakes and hopefully avoid them in the future,” Mei said looking at the Major sincerely.

“But is it important enough to follow a group of people around to do it?” Nerys said leaning forward herself, her eyes intense. “In this day and age, where everything is recorded digitally anyway, is there really a need to capture this history?” Nerys said.

Now Mei felt uncomfortable, she resisted crossing her arms as a form of protection from the major’s heated gaze. Mei bit her lip nervously, contemplating what she wanted to say next. She flicked her eyes about the eatery, checking to see if anyone was paying attention to their conversation.

“Tell me major, if there were only digital recordings of history, how do you think history would interpret what happened on Bajor?” Mei asks, her face still.

Nerys tensed at the question, anger immediately built up in her chest, she felt like she wanted to spring from her seat. “That we were victims of Cardassian expansionist aggression,” Nerys slammed her palms of the table, making the cups and plates sitting on the table vibrate.

Some of the nearby patrons turned and looked at Nerys with a frown.

“Ok, now the Federation would see it that way, but I don’t think the Cardassians would perceive it that way, do you?” Mei said with a questioning look.

Nerys leaned back in her chair, turning her head away from the watcher.

“What about in two hundred years or a thousand years, mmm?” Mei said leaning closer to the major, voice dropping to a lower tone, forcing the Bajoran woman to lean closer to her if she wanted to hear what she had to say.

“What if you knew you could go and interview someone who has a perfect memory who could actually remember what it was like a hundred years ago before the Cardassian’s invaded,” Mei said emphatically. “Wouldn’t you consider that valuable?”

Nerys sipped her tea as a way not having to answer straight away.

She let her eyes drift about the room, when her eye caught on the amber icon, which meant either go, good, or proceed. The colour code the government were arguing about. Would it be useful to have some authority that could describe what was used before.

Nerys was starting to think that would be useful. Then she frowned as another thought drifted through her mind.

‘Stagnation'

Wouldn’t society and advancement halt if they were slaves to the past.

“I don’t know if it would be good for society. If we must follow what was done in the past we would never advance,” Nerys said slowly as she worked through her nascent thought. Nerys turned her attention back to Mei. There was no hostility in her face, just a calm interest, listening.

“Ah, yes if we used the information as a prescriptive guide,” Mei smiled warmly at Nerys. “That is where the Watcher Organisation comes into the equation,” Mei leans forward, arms resting on the table, hair falling forward, shielding her face from observers. “Through guidance from the Prime, we limit access to the actual Remnants. We have our own records, that we maintain and allow external academics to view.”

“But if the watchers do have access to the Remnants, why do you need to observe them at all,” Nerys pointed out logically.

“Well unfortunately some of them are very recalcitrant and won’t always cooperate,” Mei shrugged. She obviously didn’t see her profession as an invasion of privacy.

“What about Julian, will he get a watcher?” Nerys finally asked, getting to the crux of the issue in her eyes.

Mei shifted in her seat uncomfortable, looking off to the side.

Nerys could see her bite her lip, this made her worry. “Will he?” Nerys said in a firmer tone.

“Most young Remnants don’t get a watcher in the modern age,” Mei shifted again in her chair before looking at Nerys again.

“Most… so you think Julian will get a watcher,” Nerys pushed.

“All Remnants have a chronicle eventually,” Mei simply stated with a delicate shrug.

“Well, the wormhole is here,” Mei said with a half shrug,

‘Wormhole! what did the wormhole have to do with Julian getting a watcher and what was a chronicle?.’ Now Nerys was very confused. It was starting to make Nerys angry, especially as she could tell that Mei was trying to avoid her questions.

Nerys rubbed her head wearily; this conversation was starting to give her a headache. She just came to the Replimat for a modicum of company, while she worked on her report.

“Look Mei, just tell me,” Nerys said with her head propped in her hand. “I’m Julian’s friend, he told me you were a good friend and a good person,” Nerys just looked at Mei with an open expression, hoping that Mei will confide in her.

Mei straightened her posture and gave the room another quick look before leaning in close to Nerys. “The wormhole suddenly appearing, while Julian is in the vicinity,” Mei did a final sweep of the area. “He might be a fulcrum,” Mei said barely above a whisper.

Nerys strained to hear the other woman with the noise present in the Replimat. ‘A Fulcrum,’ it made no sense to Nerys. She just gave an expectant look at Mei.

“A fulcrum is a focus point in space and time where a natural occurrence of historical importance will happen,” Mei twisted her fingers anxiously. If the Watcher Organisation ever found out that she was sharing this information, she could be sanctioned.

Nerys leaning towards Mei, “you think Julian is one of these fulcrums?” she said.

“Back home, it has been discussed. The Prime ordered us to leave Julian alone, but that will only hold out for so long,” Mei hurriedly confided.

Mei’s eyes dart about the Replimat. “No one has ever witnessed a fulcrum emerge before. With the new wormhole, and aliens, no one knows what will happen,” Mei said before slumping back in her chair. Her signal that she wasn’t going to tell Nerys any more information.

Nerys was careful not to change the expression on her face, but this did explain a lot about Julian’s obsessive worry about the wormhole. Did Julian know that he was a Fulcrum? Was that why he was particularly worried about watchers.

Rubbing her forehead again. “And a chronicle. What is that?” Nerys tiredly asked.

“Oh, in history a chronical provides a comprehensive account of Remnants life as they occurred over time,” Mei explained, she was often caught off guard when someone asked her question that was a well-known fact to historians.

Nerys needed to end this conversation. “Thank you for your interesting conversation, Mei,” Nerys said in a tone that she knew would carry.

Mei looked startled at this sudden shift in conversation. She watched wide eyed, as Nerys quickly tidied her space on the table.

“I hope we will have time for another conversation before you leave us,” Nerys said, standing from her seat and gathering up her possessions.

“Yes, that would be lovely Major,” Mei replied, still a bit rattled from the abrupt end to the conversation.

Nerys gave her one curt nod and dashed from the Replimat.

Mei swivelled slightly in her chair and watched Nerys go. Once she was out of sight, Mei turned back in her seat and saw that she too had finished her drink. Sighing she tidied away her things and wondered if Quart had any good historical programs.

Meeting on Newton’s Gold

Julian was eager to hear Ben’s Report on the wormhole and what it meant for Remnants. For the past two weeks, Ben’s team has been through the wormhole six times.

Julian darted through the air lock as soon as the doors were open. Once he was on board, Julian was able to use his own Quantum lifeforce to locate Ben. Unfortunately for Julian he had to pass Erik to reach the Prime. Erik’s condescending smirk made Julian’s jaw clench.

On the way out, he was going to teach Erik a lesson once and for all.

A much more welcome face was Mei, his old school friend. It had been nice to catch up with her. He understood her love for history and her father was a famous earth historian who studied the Henan province in China.

Her father the elder Doctor Li Wei, was never able to gain membership to the Watcher Organisation. But he had been determined that his daughter would have that opportunity to go where he could not. As an historian he had been given access to two rare manuscripts that the Watcher Organisation kept in their archive. He was never given direct access to a Remnant to interview. Julian wasn’t sure if Mei’s father was even aware that was a possibility, that there were Remnants who had been alive and in the Henan province to give an eyewitness account.

She had shown an aptitude for the subject in school and Julian had encouraged her to study history. He had even suggested that she could be his watcher. But this was all before Julian had awakened and realised what and who he was.

Maybe if Julian’s identity was ever revealed he may give her father that interview, as a curtesy, as she was a loyal friend when he had desperately needed one as a teenager.

“Already for your journey home?” Julian asked cordially.

“Already,” Mei smiled warmly at Julian and then went in for a hug. Her equally slight body fitted neatly in his arms, just as she had done when they were teenagers.

“It was lovely meeting your friends; Nerys and Miles,” Mei said. “Especially the intriguing Garak,” Mei grinned openly at Julian.

Julian lowered his head briefly before meeting Mei's gaze once more. "I'm truly glad they had the chance to meet you too," he replied sincerely. Yet, in that moment, a wave of realisation washed over Julian, reminding him of the fleeting nature of existence. Mei would never look this radiant and beautiful again.

The impermanence of the universe struck him deeply. Julian overcome with sudden emotion grabbed her hands warmly and took in her dear appearance, ensuring that he will remember her at this precise moment for all time.

"I hope you managed to gather some good stories for my chronicle," Julian quipped with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, aiming to coax a laugh from Mei. Her laughter was like music to his ears, bright and infectious. He couldn't help but release a contented sigh as his wish was fulfilled, savouring the precious sound of her laughter, yet another memory to be hoarded greedily.

“I have indeed, they won’t quite be the first entry into your chronicle,” Mei said with a hint of apology. “That unfortunate shuttle accident while you were at the academy has that pride of place,” she laughingly said.

“What no!” Cried Julian, he couldn’t help but pout at the thought of one of his more idiotic moments had been recorded for all of time.

“Come on Julian, even us staid old Watchers need a laugh now and then,” Mei said unrepentantly with a cheeky grin. Humour drained her face, to be replaced with a more sincere expression. “It has really been lovely seeing you again,” Mei’s eyes held a soft expression as she said her final farewell.

“Depending on what Ben tells me next, I have a feeling my life might get crazy soon,” Julian told her quietly. “But when I am next on Earth, I will track you down and give you an update for my chronicle,” Bending forward, Julian kissed her three times on the cheeks. “I have to go now, Ben is expecting me,” with that, with real reluctance Julian finally turned and strode down the corridor and out of sight.

Mei watched him go; she couldn’t help but feel a sense of melancholy at seeing him depart. From next year, when Julian reached maturity, as Remnants gauged it, the gulf between them will only get larger, with each passing year. She will get grey hair and eventually die. While Julian would look twenty-eight forever.

The legacy watchers, descendants of families deeply entrenched in the world of Remnants for generations, often found themselves with familial ties to some of these enigmatic beings. Take, for instance, Julian’s maternal lineage—his mother, grandfather, and even his cousin were all esteemed members of the Watcher Organisation, steeped in the secrets of Remnant society.

A legacy Watcher would function as a mentor for these fledgling members of the Watchers like Mei herself. Mei underwent rigorous psychotherapy before being admitted into their ranks. It was a necessary step to ensure that she wouldn't succumb to the potent co*cktail of envy and jealousy that could arise from gazing into a mirror and confronting her own mortality. The knowledge that eternal beings, perpetually young and vibrant, walked among them could be a heavy burden for those not prepared to carry it.

Mei sighed wearily as she made her way back to her quarters. Her conversation with Julian had stirred something within her, a determination to leave her mark on the annals of history. She had not been joking when she mentioned adding an entry to Julian's chronicle; it was her chance to etch her name into the fabric of eternity.

Recollections flooded her mind as she entered her quarters. Mei vividly remembered the moment she was first granted access to the ancient chronicles—the hallowed records that held the secrets of generations past. She could still feel the weight of the white cotton gloves she had worn, a delicate barrier between her fingers and the precious artifacts. Her hands had trembled with reverence as she turned the pages, immersing herself in the timeless exploits of figures like Salihah, a legendary Watcher from over a millennium ago. It was in those sacred texts that Mei found inspiration, fuelling her desire to leave her own indelible imprint on the pages of history.

Salihah had been an unusual Watcher, who had chronicled her own life at the same time she maintained the Watcher library in Cairo. She recorded what it was like to be a human and a Watcher, from the rare perspective of a trained historian. Writing her own history for future historians to learn from. She was a hero to Mei, who she hoped to emulate.

Sighing, Mei and opened her encrypted files, as she prepared to get to work.

“Julian, welcome,” Ben greeted Julian as he entered Ben’s private office. Ben pointed to the chair he wanted Julian to take. Ben was always pleased to spend time with Julian, he couldn’t help but feel natural pride in his progeny. Julian really was a model Remnant. Endlessly curious, deeply connected to Remnant culture and society.

Julian smiled warmly at Ben as he walked to the offered seat. He was eager to find out what Ben had discovered about the Prophets. Ben had been forwarding the results from their experiments through the quantum network to Julian for his review. It was fascinating and he at least knew now why he had reacted so strongly to the wormhole the first time he had entered it.

The chair he was seated in was comfortable, adjustable, suitable for lounging or working. Just Ben’s style. Julian smiled in comradery as he settled into his seat.

Erik was already in the room, standing in front of an observation window. He smirked condescendingly at Julian, hoping to show his superiority to the medical doctor. That he was the Prime’s protégé.

Julian sighed, tiresome. Erik's complete lack of control over his quantum lifeforce, discernible to any trained Remnant as it buzzed and flicked about the room, brushing up against Julian, causing a persistent buzz in his head. Erik's absence of control and blatant disregard for the Remnant culture and hierarchy, grated on Julian.

He personally felt comfort in knowing where he fit in that hierarchy. Erik was a security risk and was the real reason Ben was mentoring him personally. Well, that and Erik’s personality, which inhibited his simulation into Remnant society. Seemed to provoke homicidal rage in those above him in the hierarchy he refused to observe.

“I thought I should make myself available, in case you needed any of the physics explained to you,” Erik said, dipping his head, schooling his face and voice as if talking to a schoolchild.

It annoyed Erik how the Prime was so warm and friendly with Julian, who was still a child at twenty-seven. He valued Julian’s opinions and give his thoughts and recommendations more weight, then his. He was Doctor Erik Norgaard, he had three PHD’s. He was the renowned physicist, feted across the galaxy in all the Human higher institutes,’ god damn it!’

“I am after all one of the top three quantum physicists in the Quadrant,” Erik said in the same mocking tone he had been using on Deep Space Nine for the past two weeks to Julian. Hoping to put Julian in his place.

But they were no longer on Deep Space Nine.

Julian gave Erik a hard look. “Erik you’re a f*cking idiot,” he said derisively. “You’re not even one of the top three physicists in the room,” Julian gave Erik a shark like smile. With a pulse of power behind his words, “I suggest you leave before I do something I won’t regret,” Julian commanded, his voice colder than an artic wind.

Julian's commanding tone exerted an invisible force on Erik, compelling him to move without conscious volition; proving that there was a part of Erik that did in fact, have a survival instinct greater than that of a toddler with a set of keys and an electric socket.

However, as the haze of Julian's influence dissipated and Erik found himself standing alone in the corridor, the door to Ben's office firmly sealed behind him, clarity dawned with startling intensity. Confusion gave way to simmering resentment, igniting a fierce internal tumult as Erik grappled with the indignity of being manipulated by the meek twenty-seven-year-old Julian.

This showed Erik’s brain didn’t have the same survival instinct as his feet.

Even with a clear demonstration of Julian’s higher position and power level in the Remnant hierarchy, Erik was planning to confront Julian and ‘put him in his place’ before Julian left the Newton’s Gold, that day.

Erik stamped down the deck to the bridge and science station, preparing for the last trip through the wormhole, to demonstrate to Julian what he had learned. The mere thought made him grind his teeth painfully, luckily, he was a Remnant, and the pain was only transient.

Why didn’t the other Remnants acknowledge his superior knowledge, Erik thought scowling at his console. It wasn’t fair.

Julian watched silently as the door closed behind the annoying Erik. “I might have to rip his heart out before this day is over,” Julian gritted out.

“Well go ahead, I have top of the range cleaning bots,” Ben said laconically giving a grin to Julian.

Julian sighed and stretched his neck, trying to relieve the stress that Erik’s presence always induced. With a final roll of his shoulders, Julian brought his attention back to Ben. “I read your reports from your experiments, and I agree with your conclusions,” Julian said with a thoughtful look.

“It’s amazing after all this time that it basically came down to Isaac’s third law of motion,” Julian shook his head with a smile of fond remembrance.

“Isaac was the only human I know who could match me drink for drink,” Ben said fondly.

“And still play a blinding game of billiards,” Julian said with a laugh, sharing a memory with Ben of their long distant friend. Wishing they had a drink in hand that they could toast the man.

“And yet, still be completely mad,” Ben said with a grin. “I did try telling him that he was on a road to know where, with the whole alchemy obsession he had.”

Julian laughed. “Well, his arrogance would challenge Erik’s, that’s for sure,” Julian said with a grin. “Did you know Erik actually tried to pass off one of my own discoveries in quantum physics as his own to Dax?” Julian said, now frowning that his attention had turned back to Erik.

“Seriously Ben his arrogance combined with his utter ignorance is dangerous to all of us,” the smiles that had wreathed Julian’s face only mere moments ago, was replaced with a serious grim look.

Ben sighed and flopped back in his seat, frustration with Erik obvious to Julian’s knowing eyes.

“I know, but he truly is a good scientist,” Ben explained to Julian.

“Are you becoming soft in your old age?” Julian said, a hint of a smile back on his face.

“No.”

Ben spun in his chair until he looks out the window at the starscape beyond. “The galaxy is so very big and there are so few of us,” Ben whispered. “Twenty-two thousand Remnants in the whole of the universe,” Ben swivelled back to look at Julian. His hazel eyes, pained.

“I feel I have failed him. I should have reached out when Marcus and Meg separated and made sure Erik at least when to a Watcher school,” Ben said wearily, leaning on the desk. “I want to at least give him every opportunity to learn to fit in,” Ben explained to a patient Julian.

“I understand, I do,” Julian empathises with Ben’s position. “But with his behaviour he can’t be trusted with the full knowledge of the Remnants,” Julian leans in towards Ben and places one of his hands on top of his. “Yet, it’s the one thing that might get through to him,” Julian sighed, it really was a ‘catch 22’ that Ben found himself in.

“Does he know your true age?” Julian asked.

“No,” Ben said. “He really is unobservant, I truly believe that he thinks the oldest of us is about five hundred,” Ben had a pained look on his face as he explained this.

Julian leant back, eyes wide in surprise, “What really?” Julian stuttered.

Ben simply nodded.

Julian now let his own eyes drift out the window to the stars beyond. It sounded unbelievable to Julian. He remembered gossiping with Mei, George, and Monique, while at school speculating how old some of their Remnant teachers were. Even they had the awareness that their teachers could be centuries older than they appeared.

The sharp memory caused Julian to chuckle. One of their teachers, Ms Sharp, whom they were betting to be at least a thousand years old due to her wise counsel, had turned out to be only forty-five years old. She was a stunningly beautiful female appearing Remnant, her skin seemed to glow from within and she had the most fascinating afro Julian had seen.

Julian returned his attention to Ben and the reason he was here today. He firmly put the problematic Erik out of his thoughts, so he could concentrate on the matter at hand.

Julian refocused his attention on Ben, pushing thoughts of Erik aside to concentrate fully on the matter at hand. He adjusted his chair into working mode, leaning forward with his arms resting on Ben's desk.

"I've thoroughly reviewed all the data you sent me," Julian began, shaking his head in wonderment. "It's truly remarkable that something as physically traumatic to my body is rooted in one of the most fundamental tenets of physics."

He looked to Ben for confirmation, seeing a glimmer of recognition in the older man's eyes. "The interaction between my quantum lifeforce and the spacetime fabric of the wormhole—it's causing a destabilising effect, correct?"

Ben's expression brightened with affirmation. "Exactly," he confirmed. "Each time you passed through the wormhole, the force generated within you triggers aa equal but opposite reaction from the wormhole itself. It's like a cosmic balancing act, striving to maintain equilibrium."

Julian's brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed Ben's explanation, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place in his mind. "So essentially, my own quantum lifeforce is the root cause of the issues we've been grappling with," he mused aloud, a sense of realization dawning within him.

Ben nodded in agreement, a sense of relief washing over him as Julian grasped the complexities of the situation. "Precisely," he confirmed. "Unfortunately, it means that with each passage through the wormhole, you're essentially triggering your own demise."

"I've reached the same conclusion from looking at the data your experiments generated," Julian added, his voice steady despite the burgeoning excitement swirling within him. "It's reassuring to know that we're aligned in our understanding."

A small, grateful smile tugged at Ben's lips as he regarded Julian with respect. "Your insights have been invaluable," he said sincerely.

A bubble of laughter burst forth from Julian’s lips, his face aglow with wonder. “To be alive for millennia and yet still discovering marvels,” Julian said his eyes gleaming at this new discovery.

Watcher psychologists struggles to understand and define this aspect of Remnants fundamental psychology. This intense feeling of love, wonder, excitement, and amazement that Remnants could experience over the most mundane of discoveries. A powerful desire to live to combat the many psychological wounds an extremely long life could inflict on an individual.

In the dimly lit confines of Ben's office, With the shimmering starscape as a backdrop, the air was electric with anticipation as Ben and Julian sat facing each other across the desk. Ben's expression held a hint of his own excitement and even some humour mixed in, as he prepared to share his findings with Julian.

"Julian, as you know, we've been conducting experiments over the past two weeks," Ben began, his voice steady despite his eagerness to share all his findings with his old friend. “We have Erik to thank for my breakthrough,” Ben started with an ironic grin. “Unfortunately for Erik this was not due to his prowess in quantum physics.”

Julian rolled his eyes at the mention of Erik in their conversation.

“Much like yourself, on the first trip through the wormhole, I almost died instantly,” Ben explained calmly.

“We had been prepared for this eventuality and we had multiple instruments recording any readings of ozone, Coulombs, electron volts, etc.” Ben said with a lazy circulatory movement of his right hand.

Julian nodded, encouraging Ben to continue with his explanation, a slight frown of concentration indicated by the crease above the bridge of his nose.

“On the return journey I executed the meditative state that you yourself employed during your second trip through the wormhole,” Ben excitedly told Julian. “Like you I was able to weather the electrical storm,” Ben grinned in Julian in the shared memory of the painful transit through the wormhole.

“This is obviously not an ideal solution or that practical to any Remnant who needed to work during the transit through,” Julian said, a thoughtful look in his eyes, as he rested his chin in his palm as he pondered this conundrum.

“Except when I was gathering the perceptions of the crew and Erik. I discovered Erik hadn’t experienced any affect at all,” Ben looked expectantly at Julian. Waiting for Julian to pull the pieces together.

Julian’s thoughts drifted back to Erik. Frowning in concentration he gazed out the window, looking hypnotically at the star field beyond.

Julian remained in silence for a minute contemplating the implications of Erik not experiencing any effects from wormhole travel. ‘Opposite yet equal' Julian ruminated, before breaking out in a grin.

“Erik lacks total control of his quantum lifeforce, so didn’t present any force for the forces in the wormhole to react against,” Julian leans forward, looking eagerly towards Ben, waiting for him to confirm his hypothesis.

“Exactly,” Ben grinned broadly at Julian.

"So, I've been testing how much control I need to release over my own quantum lifeforce to remain fully functional during our passage through the wormhole."

Julian leaned forward; his interest piqued by Ben's revelations. "And what have you discovered?" he asked, his eyes intent on Ben's face.

Ben's gaze flickered with a mix of calm confidence, as he recounted his findings. "I found that by loosening my control by around fifteen percent, I can maintain awareness and function without disturbing those around me," he explained.

Julian's brow furrowed, “did your quantum lifeforce affect the mortals in the crew?” Julian asked in concern as he waited for Ben to continue.

"The more I released my control, the more others around me can sense our lifeforce, it’s true" Ben continued, his tone serious. "The flight crew didn’t report any discomfort,” Ben told Julian. “Mei reported feeling uneasy in my presence during the experiments. But she said she wasn’t sure if this was psychosomatic or a physical effect to my lifeforce."

There was a moment of silence as Julian nodded, absorbing this information. "So, what's the solution?" he asked, his mind already racing ahead to potential strategies.

Ben's lips curved into a wry smile as he leaned back in his chair, his hazel eyes meeting Julian's with relaxed confidence. "The solution is for you to practice releasing control over your quantum lifeforce," he explained. "I'll guide you through it, just as I've been doing."

Julian nodded in understanding, a sense of understanding flickering in his eyes. "And what should I expect?" he asked, curious for the challenge ahead.

Ben's smile softened with understanding as he reached out to clasp Julian's shoulder in a reassuring gesture. "You may experience sensations of intense seasickness, or so I have been told" he warned with a grin. "But it's a small price to pay compared to the alternative."

Julian nodded, “okay, let’s do this,” he said as he shook out the tension in his arms and hands. Ben didn’t usually practice this direct sort of communication with his Remnants. It didn’t hurt it was a disturbing feeling for the junior Remnant as they had to give up some of their autonomous control.

The transference of information through this method left Julian vulnerable. An unusual experience for any Remnant who were impervious to this type of control, except occasionally from Ben. Julian suppressed a shiver that wanted to travel through Julian’s body.

Ben gave a sympathetic look and gave Julian’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Ben set his hands on the desk in front of Julian, opened, palm up. “Take my hands and we will sink our breathing,” Ben gently instructed.

With just a fraction of a second’s hesitation, Julian reached out and held Ben’s warm strong hands in his own.

Ben counted in Julian breaths until they were breathing in perfect synchronicity.

“Look into my eyes,” Ben compelled, voice warm and sonorous.

Within moments the two men had dropped in to a hypnotic state. In this state Ben was able to demonstrate to Julian the level of control he would need to release to be able to travel through the wormhole and remain in control of himself, yet not affect any of his travelling companions.

The transfer of the information was almost instantaneous. With Julian’s biographical memory he would be able to replicate the process perfect each time he traversed the wormhole.

Ben released his hold over Julian.

Julian slumped back in his seat with a sigh of relief. “That is super creepy,” Julian said with a dramatic shiver and a grin for Ben.

“I wouldn’t know,” Ben smirked at Julian from his own seat across the desk.

“So do you want to practice before we try it for real?” Ben asked.

Julian stood from the chair and performed some stretches, trying to get the tension out of his muscles be he tried replicating Ben’s technique for travelling through the wormhole.

“Sure, if you could monitor my force levels in case I need to make some adjustments,” Julian suggested with a final stretch of his neck.

For this practice run, Julian closed his eyes so he could fully focus on his body. In reality of daily life, Julian would need to be able to do this at a near subconscious level so he could operate fully functionally on board any vessel on which he was travelling.

Breathing rhythmically, he concentrated on the physical sensations of loosening his control enough that the forces exerted by the wormhole didn’t affect him while ensuring his own lifeforce didn’t impact his crewmates. He maintained this state for seven minutes, the time it took to pass through the wormhole and then pulled back in his control.

Opening eyes Julian looked up at Ben smiling proudly at him. Julian just rolled his eyes, as if it wouldn’t be a piece of cake. It has been well over a millennium since Julian had gained mastery over his own quantum lifeforce.

“Right, are you ready to try the real thing?” Ben asked with a grin, eyes alight with the fire of exploration. Excited to share this experience with Julian.

“Sure,” Julian said with a shrug. Now that he had practiced the method, he did not think he would have any difficulty going through the wormhole. He was looking forward to experiencing seasickness. As a Remnant he didn’t experience ill health and was looking forward to a new experience.

“One more thing Julian,” Ben said hesitantly. “I need to tell you what I found out about the Prophets...”

“How do you feel?” Ben asked, noticing the green tinge to Julian’s skin.

“I can’t believe I was looking forward to experiencing travel sickness,” Julian moaned. Julian’s two consecutive runs through the wormhole were enough for him to practice the technique Ben had shown him.

Julian contemplated the possibilities with a growing sense of excitement. If he could analyse his own experiences and fine-tune the technique, he could devise a treatment to counteract the intense travel sickness he experienced. The prospect of delving into the scientific exploration of Remnant medicine filled him with anticipation. It was a new subject for Julian, as their design inherently granted them perfect health. A wave of exhilaration washed over him as he envisioned the groundbreaking discoveries that lay ahead in his research into Remnant physiology.

In quiet conversation with Ben, Julian arranged to have Ben’s physiological data sent to him, informing his friend that he would keep him updated if Julian could work out a means to travel through the wormhole without becoming sick.

Julian reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel Erik staring at him through the entire wormhole experiment. His resentment burning into Julian. He sighed, it was coming to the point where he would need to deal with Erik once and for all.

Julian just didn’t want the confrontation to happen in front of Mei. He didn’t want to frighten her. Also, there was the consideration that she was a Watcher and bound to report all that she saw here on Newton’s Gold. It would be impossible to explain away any fight between Julian and Erik as beginners’ luck. Especially as there was no records of Julian having any training in combat.

Julian didn’t want to expose the fact that he had been reborn, and he wanted to remain out of the scopes of the Watchers for as long as possible.

Julian went to Ben to give him his heartfelt farewell. He had enjoyed having Ben at the station. But with Julian’s ability to manipulate quantum portals. He could see Ben in person at anytime. But it was a unique experience to have him with Julian, openly, for all his mortal friends and colleagues to see.

With a warm hug it was time for Julian to depart, Ben just winked at Julian, acknowledging the upcoming confrontation with Eric. Julian couldn’t help but give Ben a scolding look, before exiting the small bridge.

Julian had only taken a few steps down the corridor when he heard the door open behind him. He sighed. Earlier, when he first arrived on board, he was angry enough at Erik that he was looking forward to the predicted altercation.

But now after the two journeys through the wormhole, he just felt emotionally drained. Physically his strength had returned and the sickness he had been feeling had dissipated. With the information Ben had shared about the Prophets, well Julian just wanted to go to Garak’s for a cuddle.

He would need to be extra kind to his friends and Garak over the next couple of days. He understands he was a bit ‘much,’ over Ben’s visit and he was grateful to them for accommodating his requests.

“Julian!”

Erik’s arrogant voice grated on Julian’s very last nerve.

He stopped and turned to look at Erik, just the sight of his greying temples and crow’s feet made him want to grind his teeth in annoyance.

“Yes,” Julian said wearily.

“I want to discuss your appalling behaviour to a superior,” Erik had his chin tilted up, eyes narrowed, a curl to his lip.

Julian just stood there looking at Erik in disbelief, brows furrowed. ‘Seriously Erik couldn’t be this much of an idiot?' he wearily thought.

Julian sighed inwardly, already over the confrontation that was sure to follow. He decided to give Erik one more chance. "Erik, I'm really not in the mood for this right now," he replied wearily, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalated.

But Erik pressed on, his arrogance unchecked as he reminded Julian of their respective positions, as Erik mistakenly saw it. "You need to remember that I am the Remnant Prime's protégé, Julian, and not forget who holds the higher rank here," he sneered, his words laced with disdain. "You're just a junior lieutenant in Starfleet, whereas I am a highly regarded quantum physicist."

Julian's frustration bubbled to the surface as Erik continued to belittle him. "Erik, it's not about Starfleet ranks or titles," he countered, his voice firm but tinged with weariness. "It's about understanding the Remnant hierarchy and the respect you owe both me and Ben. Your lack of regard for that hierarchy is evident in every interaction we've had."

With each word, Julian emphasised the importance of mutual respect and recognition within Remnant culture, hoping to convey the gravity of Erik's dismissive attitude.

Erik faltered slightly at Julian's unwavering confidence, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. But then, with a defiant glare, he squared his shoulders and prepared to deliver his final blow.

"Just remember your place, Julian," Erik spat, his tone dripping with venom. "And don't forget who you're dealing with."

Julian just looked at Erik’s flushed angry face. Erik just wasn’t getting it; he refused every piece of advice or guidance he was given. Time to go old school, Julian thought grimly. His hand darted out and clamped in a vice like grip on Erik’s upper arm.

Erik looked outraged; he took a deep breath as if he were about to start screaming.

Julian looked around and opened the nearest door to them. Luckily, it was a storage closet big enough for the two men. With experienced ease Julian swung Erik into the room, Julian followed him in and crowded him against the wall while the door snapped closed behind him.

“How dare you!” Erik squeaked, eyes practically bulging out of his head. “I will report you!”

“Shut up!” Julian coldly commanded. Erik’s jaw slammed closed before he had a conscious thought in his head.

“I think it’s time you knew exactly who you are dealing with,” Julian said, each word crisp like a dagger to the heart.

Julian took a firm hold of Erik using his quantum lifeforce. Erik couldn’t move.

With the barest narrowing of eyes as Erik’s only warning. Julian shot out a claw like hand with enough force to instantly shatter Erik’s ribs that were protecting his fragile heart. With a savage twist of his hand and with a doctor’s precision, Julian’s iron like hand gripped Erik’s still beating heart.

Erik’s face was now frozen in terror and pain. Face ashen, slowly blinking, as his muddled brain tried to take in what was happening to him.

Julian could feel the frantic beating of Erik’s heart in his hand, with a sneer on his lips, with a savage yank, Julian ripped Erik’s heart from his chest.

Erik’s blood flowed from the gaping wound in his chest. Tears dripped off his chin. Julian’s quantum life force kept Erik momentarily conscious.

“I know exactly where my place is,” Julian’s voice was like ice. With a twist of his hand, he dropped Erik’s heart on the floor. “I suggest that you learn where yours is,” he said with a harsh bark of laughter. “And while you are at it, brush up on Remnant hierarchy and protocol.”

Just as quickly as it had begun, he released Erik, who was dead by the time he hit the floor. Julian shuffled back from the body as he didn’t want to get blood on his boots. There were cleaning supplies in the room. Julian quickly removed the blood from his hands and cuffs of his uniform. Good enough to walk through the station and to his quarters.

Julian opened the door to the closet and all most walked straight in to the Prime. He jumped and gave a startled laugh. “Bloody hell Ben! You gave me a fright,” Julian gasped.

“Not as much of a fright as you gave Erik I suspect?” Said Ben grinning sardonically at Julian.

“Are you going to move him?” Julian asked with curiosity as he nodded at the closed door.

In answer Ben reached out and engaged the locking mechanism on the door and gave Julian a look.

“He’ll probably recover in 24 to 36 hours,” Julian guessed, after all Erik had no control over his quantum lifeforce, so it tended to be a bit chaotic when trying to repair a Remnant’s body.

“36 hours it is then,” Ben’s long fingers, tapped out a command on the control panel locking the door for the next day and a half.

“Well, we can only hope that Erik is more cautious in the future and actually follows protocol,” Julian said with a shrug.

“Come on, let me escort you off the ship,” Ben gently guided Julian from the ship, away from the closet where Erik was stashed for the next while.

Julian sighed; he was going to miss Ben.

Garak's

Julian lay on his back in Garak’s bed, satiated, but not ready for sleep. He was glad Ben came to the station. But what he had learned about the Prophets was shocking, he would have to contemplate this latest information.

Garak could feel Julian thinking beside him. He had thought that he had put in enough effort to wear the other man out at least.

Garak wasn’t a hugger, though he was naturally drawn to Julian’s body heat. “What’s on your mind?” Garak said softly into the dark room, only the red glow of a nightlight breaking through the night.

Julian turns towards Garak in the bed. Julian’s eyes easily seeing his partners face. “Oh, I don’t know,” Julian said reaching out with finger so he could run it across Garak’s eye ridges, feeling the delicate scales that functioned as protection and shade for Cardassian’s sensitive vision. “Just sorry to see Ben go home,” Julian sighed, withdrawing his hand so he can place it under the pillow.

Garak had noticed over the five plus months that they had been together, that this was a favourite sleeping position for Julian. “You seemed very close to Ben...” Garak let the unspoken question hang in the darkness between them.

For a time, all that could be heard was the soft breathing of the two men.

“You’ve spoken of your mother and grandfather in the past,” Garak said softly, he let his fingers explore the hollow between neck and collar bone. “But how does family work with Remnants?” Garak finally asked.

Julian just looked at Garak in the dark, some of the red light eerily reflecting in his eyes. It was one of the few definitive physical differences a Remnant had. A difference that disturbed humans generally. In low light their eyes could reflect light like many nocturnal animals.

“Differently,” Julian sighed. “It is hard to explain the feeling,” Julian said into the darkness before shifting his position to lay on Garak’s chest, mouth near his ear. Julian, who by quirk of nature liked cold feet when he was in bed and like to place his narrow feet between Garak’s calves.

“We are genetically engineered, we know what line we belong too...” Julian started to delicately run his fingers along Garak’s neck ridges, causing the other man to shiver. Julian pressed a hot kiss to his neck.

“And you belong to the Prime’s line?” Garak whispered back, enjoying Julian’s soft fingers against his cool skin.

“Maybe...”

Garak felt Julian grinning against his neck, the tease.

“It’s a sobering thing knowing your human family will all die,” Julian gives Garak a squeeze. “We don’t have fathers as you would understand it...”

The silence stretched into the night as Julian tried to gather the language to explain the complex relationships that bound Remnants. “More like trusted mentors,” Julian finally said. “We were designed to be soldiers; hierarchy is important to us.”

Garak let this percolate through his mind. It was a difficult concept for a Cardassian to grasp where family was everything. Garak turned his head, he couldn’t see Julian clearly in his dark room, but he decided to ‘take a stab in the dark,' Garak smiled at his own wit. “And this is what annoyed you about Erik Nordgaard, he wasn’t obeying the hierarchy?” Garak felt Julian’s expression change to a frown.

“We all know exactly where we fit in the hierarchy instinctively. Eric wasn’t raised as a Remnant and as far as I can tell refuses to learn,” Julian couldn’t help tinge of anger that flavoured his voice.

“Aaah!” Garak was none the wiser where Julian stood in this hierarchy, except with a title like Prime, Ben was at the top. Come to think about it Erik didn’t show any deference to Ben, not in his presence anyway.

Thinking back to the days when he was Tain’s right hand, if a lowly subordinate didn’t show the correct amount of deference to the leader of the Obsidian Order, Garak would have taken it upon himself to correct the junior agent.

A reasonable hypothesis. “You know the prime well?” Garak probed.

“I’ve known him nearly all my life,” Julian was back to smiling as he thought about the Prime. He knew Garak was fishing for confirmation that he was a direct descendent, which he was. But it wasn’t the neat slot of ‘father’ that Cardassian’s or humans were used too.

“I said how we were designed as soldiers, so really Remnant society is like a brotherhood,” Julian tried to explain. “When everything changes around you, it is important to have a community that’s like family,” Julian sighed again and nuzzled Garak’s neck.

Remnant youth often had a crisis around one hundred and fifty years, where they suddenly realised that all their human cohorts are dead, that the world has moved on and changed, sometimes radically. This is when they need their mentors and community. Where they get a sense of consistency and continuity too.

The first five hundred years of the Remnants life is the most dangerous, even now there was fifty percent mortality rate. Being technically immortal if you don’t die, can make the average Remnant extremely risky and foolhardy. No Remnant is going to survive standing next a warp engine explosion. Accidents still happened.

Garak ran his own fingers over Julian’s forearm, liking how he could make the little hairs stand on end. “So, all Remnants are like family to each other?” Garak commented. “And Erik?” Garak said, a smile clear in his voice.

“Erik is the little brother you have to beat some sense into,” Julian was smiling too now, he shifted to a more comfortable position, he thinks he might be able to sleep now.

“Well, my dear, we all have that problematic family member we have to hide away at parties,” Garak replied, sensing he wouldn’t get any more information from Julian.

Garak just lay in the comfortable silence, gently stroking Julian’s arm. Julian was still beside him now, except for gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

Garak breaths become shallower as he drifted off to, sleep.

Chapter 16: The Wire

Chapter Text

Garak's

Garak sat in his dimly lit room, holding the pad where he stored all the Remnant data he had gathered on Julian and the other Remnants he had met.

He ran his fingers over the pad, its surface smooth to touch. Anyone looking at the pad would think it was the same as any others around his quarters. He liked to use separate devices, for his literature or work as a tailor and of course his secret security files head been building up for the past year since the Federation took over the station.

The back of the pad was Matt black and was indistinguishable from any other, but this pad had security features that Garak had designed himself. One was a fingerprint reader; the other were pressure sensors set in the back. By pressing gently on the back of the pad in a set sequence it would cause the hidden operating system to start, allowing him access to his secured files.

This was the device he used to conduct his secret covert intelligence gathering. It stored all his encrypted files, and searches in the various Federation databases.

With three quick flicks of his fingers, he was into his Remnant files. His finger hovered over the delete or send icons. He had to decide.

Earlier that day

Garak was rearranging a new shipment just in, he was getting ready to change over to the new season, as fashion marked it. He sighed; he really didn’t like the new trend in colour. Everything seemed to be a shade of orange. But thinking of the Bajoran crew on board the station, maybe it was a colour they favoured.

Garak suppressed a shudder of distaste.

He was just wondering if he could soften the impact of the orange with a brown or moss green. He smiled to himself, thinking that Julian would probably love the bright colours. He might be one of the few people on board who could carry the colour off.

The door to his shop open and the unusual sight of a Cardassian woman walked in, face angled down so any camera’s Garak might have mounted wouldn’t be able to capture her face.

Garak’s hands stilled on the silk blouse he was arranging. His heart skipped a beat as became fully alert.

The woman was, well average. Average height and weight. She had an elaborate hairstyle. No doubt arranged to draw attention. She was wearing a style of dress common for scientists on Cardassia.

“Good morning,” Garak greeted the stranger, alert for any danger.

The woman glanced up, blue eyes cold. She reached out and elegant hand and put a round disc on the counter and activated. “Garak,” she said looking coolly at the tailor. “I wanted to have a private conversation with you.”

As soon as she looked up Garak recognised her. Agent Liora Vren. She had been a junior agent at the Obsidian Order when he was still Tain’s right hand man. Garak new it couldn’t be good.

“Tain is surprised that you managed to compromise a Remnant,” Agent Vren gave Garak a sneering look. “Tain is concerned at your tardiness in submitting a report into him,” she said with a superior tone.

Garak heart thudded; he felt a pulse of anger building within him. Tain has ignored him for nearly two years and now he casually expects to come running.

“Dear Madam, what do you mean,” Garak said, deciding to play dumb to buy himself time to think. His mind was a whirl of thoughts and feelings. He knew this day would come. But since that first day when his saw Julian arrive on board the station, his emotions for the younger man had evolved and deepened.

Vren narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Tain told me you were moderately competent,” she said with disdain. She shook her head sadly. “Tain also said you might have forgotten your duty after living a bourgeois life on the station, infected by the Federations...weaknesses.”

Anger seethed with Garak at her report of his father’s words. His relationship with Tain was complex mix of love, fear, hate and a desperate desire for recognition. Even now he was torn, he wanted to give the information he had gathered on the Remnants and their capabilities. To earn his father’s recognition and praise.

Yet, there was Julian. Sweet, sweet innocent Julian. Who treated Garak with teasing respect. Who relished a good argument with Garak, his beautiful hazel eyes will sparkle with the challenge of beating Garak in debate. He was becoming more skilled in literature with Garak’s tutelage.

Though the dear boy could not be persuaded from his claim that his dear graphic novels were superior to his own ‘Never Ending Sacrifice.' Garak had even encouraged Julian to re-read the epic novel now that Garak had schooled him in Cardassian language, culture, and nuance.

Even with his fault of arrogance and his unswerving belief that he was a natural spy and of course desperately dangerous, just as soon as he got the training.

Vren banged the counter to get Garak’s attention back to the matter at hand. How the mighty has fallen. She knew of Garak’s reputation; his name was whispered with equal amount of aww and terror. Vren snorted and rolled her eyes. She looked forward to reporting Garak’s downfall.

Garak wanted to wipe the smug look from Agent Vren’s face. ‘Pay attention!' “I am sorry Vren, I don’t know what you want, I don’t have the information you are looking for,” Garak resolutely said. Deciding in that moment to definitively refuse Tain’s request.

Vren’s lip curled in disgust. “Garak you are a disgrace to Cardassia and your Family name,” She spat out like a viper. “This is your one opportunity to be brought back into the fold of Cardassia’s loving arms,” Vren stated, her eye’s boring into Garak’s.

“You should be on your knees in thanks to Tain for giving you the opportunity of redeeming your honour and serving Cardassia,” Vren hissed. “You have until 00:00 to submit your report to the Order,” she said, before spinning around and marching out of Garak’s shop.

As she spun, the strong scent of her perfume caught Garak unawares, he coughed and his eye’s stung from the pungent odour. He gripped his hands tightly to stop any outward sign of trembling.

A quick glance at his chrono, he had another two hours before it was officially closing time. He had nine hours before he had to decide.

Garak's

Garak blinked back into himself weight of the pad anchoring back into the present, sitting at his shinny black dining table.

He had to decide, ‘send the file?' he clenched his fist tight.

He set his pad around and went to the replicator to order a red leaf tea. Taking the steaming cup, he avoided the table with the pad and went to one of the sleek chairs by his heat lamp.

‘He only had forty-two minutes to make his decision,'

As he let his head rest against the back of the chair his eyes drifted about his quarters. There were markers of Julian and he being lovers all over his quarters. It was then that his eyes fell on the hand-knitted green merino wool throw.

Julian had given him it, as a surprise anniversary present several weeks ago. It wasn’t a tradition that Cardassian’s followed.

Garak new Julian had something up his sleeve as he had been acting very strange for several days before had given him his present. It had been obvious to Garak that Julian had something he was desperate to share with him about.

Garak had been stunned when he had opened the box the blanket had come in. Julian told him his grandfather had made it for him. He knew that Julian’s grandfather was one of the most important men in his life. In the darkness of night Julian had whispered his fears about the dread of this man he loved would eventually die.

Garak knew how much Julian treasured all the knitwear his grandfather made for him. It meant something that Julian shared something so meaningful to him. Garak in his latest profession could appreciate the skill and time it would have taken the other man to make this for him.

The pattern reminded of a common vine that grew on Cardassia in a colour that Garak particularly favoured.

Garak reached over and pulled the throw to him. He felt the weight of the material, the softness, and the warmth due to its thermal characteristics.

Garak sat under his heat lamp rhythmically stroking his blanket.

Standing quickly, decision made, Garak strode to the pad on the table, grabbed it up and checked that the device was locked and resolutely shoved it back in his bookcase.

Garak shot off a message to Julian inviting the other man over to his quarters. He had gone on a holovid adventure called ‘Jurassic Park’, with Chief O’Brien. He didn’t understand what the point of the story was, but he had heard Nog and Jake discussing it and according to them it was terrifying.

Garak shook his head in bemusem*nt at his lover’s strange hobbies and got ready for bed.

The nondescript pad on his bookcase forgotten about.

Promenade

As Garak in his fine patterned green suit and Julian in his uniform, they navigated through the throng of people bustling about the station. Julian smiled his special smile when ever he noticed Garak wearing his medallion. Garak will admit privately it was one of the nicest pieces anyone had ever given him.

Garak expressed his frustration over the delayed arrival of the Galipotan freighter. "What a waste of a morning," he remarked, his tone tinged with irritation. "That freighter was supposed to arrive at 07:00, but it seems they have no regard for punctuality. Although I must admit, they do produce magnificent sweaters." He glanced at Julian, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "I hope I'm not boring you, Julian."

Julian shook his head. "Oh, not at all. No, I was just up late last night."

"Oh, did I wear you out?" Garak inquired with a knowing smile.

"Unfortunately, no," Julian replied, delivering a pinprick to Garak’s ego. "After you went to sleep, I decided to re-read the last few chapters of The Never-Ending Sacrifice."

"Isn't it superb in the original Cardassian?” Garak enthused, though he was finding it difficult to find his usual enjoyment in this discussion, what with the building pressure behind his eyes. "Without a doubt the finest Cardassian novel ever written."

"I'll take your word for it," Julian said, though his tone lacked enthusiasm.

"So, you didn't enjoy it?" Garak probed.

"Well, I thought it was interesting. Maybe a little dull in parts," Julian admitted. “Before I had read it in Cardassian I hadn’t realise there were fifteen different words for duty,” Julian said looking slightly puzzled. “I didn’t see the point, much more efficient to say ‘duty’ in standard,” Julian opined, knowing it would annoy Garak.

As they approached the Replimat, Garak's expression soured at the sight of the long queue. "Oh, wonderful," he muttered. "At this rate, we'll be done eating lunch just in time for dinner."

Julian suggested, "There's always Quark's."

"True, but I'm really not in the mood for noisy, crowded, and vulgar today," Garak replied, as he brought up his hand to rub at his temples.

"Then I suppose the Klingon restaurant is out of the question," Julian quipped.

"I can't believe that I'm having lunch with a man who thinks The Never-Ending Sacrifice is dull," Garak remarked incredulously.

"I just thought the story got a little redundant after a while," Julian defended, relishing the despondent look of his lover’s face. He did enjoy riling the Cardassian up, it made for so much fun later.

"I mean, the author's supposed to be chronicling seven generations of a single family, but he tells the same story over and over again. All of his characters lead selfless lives of duty to the state, grow old and die. Then the next generation comes along and does it all over again."

"But that's exactly the point, Doctor," Garak explained his frustrations clear on his face. He had explained this on the first inadequate reading in standard too. "The repetitive epic is the most elegant form of Cardassian literature, and The Never-Ending Sacrifice is its greatest achievement."

"None of his characters ever really come alive, and there's more to life than duty to the state," Julian countered, purposefully misunderstanding Garak.

"A Federation viewpoint if ever I heard one," Garak remarked, shaking his head. Garak realised that the pain in his head was amplified due to the tension in his jaw muscles. He tried to relax his face and relieve the pressure.

"This is ridiculous. Can't you just move to the front of the line? Tell them it's a medical emergency or something." Why were the lights brighter today, Garak wondered as he made a pained glance at the lighting overhead.

"We'll be there in a minute," Julian assured him. A slight frown developed over Julian’s nose as it started to dawn on him that Garak was not just flirting, but that there was real agitation were behind the other man’s words.

"Look, maybe if you lent me another book by a different writer," Julian gently suggested no longer having fun teasing his lover.

"It would only be a waste of time," Garak insisted. "When it comes to art, you're obviously a prisoner of Federation dogma and human prejudice."

As they continued their conversation, Garak winced suddenly and held his head in pain.

"Are you all right?" Julian asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I'm fine," Garak dismissed, though his pallor suggested otherwise.

"You don't look fine," Julian observed taking in the familiar appearance of his partner. "Your skin is clammy, and your pupils are contracted."

“You’re over reacting doctor,” Garak snapped as he attempted to brush off Julian's concern, but another wave of pain washed over him, turning his stomach at the same time. “I am in perfect good health.” It was starting to dawn on Garak that there was something familiar about this pain.

"Perfect health. Then Cardassian standards must be a little lower than mine. Come on," Julian insisted, gently guiding Garak towards the Infirmary.

"What do you think you're doing?" Garak protested.

"I'm taking you to the Infirmary," Julian stated firmly.

"That won't be necessary," Garak objected.

"Maybe not, but humour me," Julian replied with determination. All the mirth from earlier gone from his face.

Garak sighed in resignation. "Frankly, Doctor, I'm a little tired of humouring you. There's nothing wrong with me that a little peace and privacy wouldn't cure. Now if you'll excuse me, I seem to have lost my appetite."

Garak stormed off, heading towards his quarters, palms sweaty, he thought he might vomit. He felt dread in the pit of his stomach. He had an idea, but it was an impossibility.

As Julian watched Garak storm away, Nerys approached, curiosity etched on her features. "What was that all about?" she asked.

"I have no idea," Julian admitted, his mind already racing with concern for his lover. “We were flirting like normal, and he just blew up,” Julian said. Deep in thought has he played back their conversation.

Nerys looked at her friend in concern. She had no idea what Julian saw in the other man. But from her external observation they seemed to have a stable relationship. They did all that weird Cardassian flirting that both men seemed to enjoy. It was a mystery to her what was so enjoyable in arguing over literature.

“I think he might have been in pain,” Julian said turning to look worriedly at Nerys.

“Does he suffer from headaches?” She asked.

“He is pretty healthy for a Cardassian with a questionable past,” Julian said absently as he reviewed memories from the past 24 hours to see if he could pinpoint the change in Garak’s behaviour.

“But you know how secretive he is,” Julian said wondering if he should be worried about Garak.

“I thought that was what you liked about him?” Nerys reminded Julian.

“I do,” Julian grinned at Nerys. “I love our spy games, all the half truths we share through misdirection, teasing each other about our pasts,” Julian explained. “But this was different, and I don’t know why.”

Nerys just shook her head. “I really don’t get your relationship. Cardassian’s from my understanding aren’t much in to asking for help,” Nerys offered Julian with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Yes, but I thought I would be different. We have been dating for over a year now,” Julian was itching to get back to his terminal in the infirmary. “I might as well head back to my office and I can have a sandwich at my desk,” Julian said, starting to fidget with the desire to start working on this new Garak mystery he had been presented with.

“Sure,”

“Do you want to go to the temple after shift to meditate?” Julian asked Nerys.

Nerys could tell Julian was getting antsy by his subtle motions. “Yes, we can meet at 17:00?” Nerys suggested.

“Excellent,” Julian said before darting off into the crowd heading to the infirmary. He was going to review the last few days station logs to see if there was anyone who came on board that might have agitated Garak.

Mezzanine

Promenade - upper level

Morn watched with a sombre expression as the shutters of Quark's café were being brought down. Meanwhile, Julian emerged from the turbolift and noticed Garak and Quark engaged in conversation below.

He had reviewed his own security set-up; the only suspicious occurrence was from two days ago. He noticed was that a Cardassian scientist had a four hour layover on the station on the way to Chemical conference on Rigel Four. Julian hadn’t been able to get a full picture of her face. That in of itself was suspicious.

He didn’t really need a photo when he had Tain bugged himself. Julian set his query running through the Cardassian Data network. It could take a while to get the information.

This evening when he checked the report, he had found that she was called Liora Vren a mid-level agent for the Obsidian Order.

There was also no indication that Garak had sent in his secret report on Julian he had been compiling for the last year. ‘Did that mean he had defied his father?' If it was true, it threw how Julian viewed the Cardassian. Julian loved him, but he didn’t trust him. Not with any Remnant secrets anyway, he thought the temptation would be too great.

Julian understanding Cardassian’s as he does, he would never have predicted that Garak would out right defy his father, let alone pass up an opportunity to end his exile. Julian was a master at reading people. He knew Garak cared for him, that he wasn’t faking his emotions. He was surprised and touched deeply at this demonstration of Garak’s devotion.

But now Julian was worried. Tain was a ruthless leader and would not take defiance well, especially from his own son. He knew the Obsidian Order’s leader personally. Julian knew the other man was vicious enough to punish his own son. Look what he had done to Garak for just defying him.

Julian had to play this carefully so as not to blow his own cover and expose his own secrets, yet he needed to protect Garak from his father.

Julian watch Garak and Quark talking below. With how quiet it was on the Promenade just after second shift, Julian with his enhanced hearing would only need to move a little closer to be able to hear what the other two men were talking about.

He needed to expose the Obsidian Order in a way that wouldn’t cast suspicion on him. He needed an excuse to confront Enabran Tain. But first he needed to discover what exactly Agent Vren had done to Garak.

[Quark's]

"So, I take it we understand each other?" Garak inquired, his tone indicating a hint of impatience. He desperately required the schematics for his implant. Even though it had been deactivated when he had been exiled, something had happened, as he thought it had been reactivated.

Quark, ever the smooth talker, responded, "Garak, how long have you been living on this station?"

"Too long," Garak muttered, just wanting this meeting over with.

"And in all that time, have I ever let you down?" Quark asked, a sense of assurance in his voice.

"I have never done business with you until now," Garak pointed out. His head was pounding.

"Which is why this deal is so important to me. I want our business relationship to get off on the right foot. Now relax. You'll get your merchandise," Quark assured him.

Garak expressed his impatience, stating, "Soon, Quark. I can't wait much longer."

As Garak departed, Julian descended the internal stairs, curious about their conversation. Wondering if he could get some info out off Quark.

"You and Garak going into business?" Julian asked, having overheard their exchange.

Quark chuckled, "Oh, that. I'm helping Garak get a new sizing scanner for his shop."

"A sizing scanner?" Julian echoed.

"Not just any sizing scanner. The best. Straight from Merak Two. Calibrated to be accurate down to the micrometre. And, I might add, at a very reasonable price," Quark boasted.

Julian, acting puzzled, remarked, "Really? I thought Garak sounded a bit upset."

"Upset? Garak? I hadn't noticed. Now, is there anything I can do for you? A little Saurian brandy to go, or maybe a late-night session in a holo-suite?" Quark offered.

"No. Thank you. I think I'll call it a night," Julian declined, heading back to his own quarters.

"Suit yourself," Quark shrugged.

^*^

The infirmary was brightly lit. Julian had, had a string of minor complaints all day. This had been good for Julian as it meant that he was able to work on a compound he was developing for seizure control. At least 28% of patients who suffered from seizures were not suitable for the current seizure elimination procedure.

As well as controlling temporary side effects from other illnesses. It was always best to have multiple options for physicians so they could determine the best treatment plans for their patients.

It was in the afternoon when Commander Sisko came in complaining of a soar throat. His relationship had evolved into one of cool professionalism. Which was better the barely concealed hostility of when Julian first came on board.

After his examination Julian administered a hypo to Sisko, offering relief. "There. How does that feel?"

"Much better," Sisko acknowledged.

"Try not to yell at any more admirals for a while," Julian advised with a hint of amusem*nt.

O'Brien entered the room, greeted by Sisko before Julian turned his attention to him. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. I was hoping you could give me a hand. I've been trying to access the old Cardassian medical files, but I haven't been having much luck," Julian explained, he had already resurrected of the most corrupt files, but he needed plausible deniability if anyone noticed that Julian seemed to have more information than he should have.

O'Brien shook his head, "I'm not surprised. The Cardassian’s did a general systems sweep before they pulled out. The medical files would have been deleted along with everything else."

"Is there any way to recover them?" Julian inquired.

O'Brien pondered for a moment before responding, "Maybe. These subroutines don't look anywhere near as bad as the engineering files did. I might be able to reconstruct the data by micro scanning the purge trace."

"How long will that take?" Julian asked hopefully.

"Two, maybe three weeks," O'Brien estimated.

"Well, if you could start on these files first? That would be appreciated, Chief," Julian suggested. If Miles could reconstruct any of the files, Julian would be able to supplement them from his own private files he had already copied for the Cardassian Data Net.

An incoming communication connected to the console Julian was working on. “Doctor Julian, your Cardassian is here, and you need to come and remove him from my establishment,” Quark complained to Julian.

Julian frowning looked to Miles. “If you could get any of those fixed, it would really help a lot,” Julian said before grabbing his emergency kit to head to Quark’s.

“Sure,” Miles said with a shrug. He wasn’t too confident that there would be anything useful left in the database.

Back at Quark's, Garak attempted to alleviate his headache with copious amounts of booze.

"Come on, Garak. Don't you think you've had enough?" Quark questioned.

"On the contrary. Anyone who talks about the numbing effects of your liquor is severely overstating the case," Garak countered, his discomfort evident, voice slightly slurred.

Julian arrived, concerned about Garak's well-being. "What's all this?"

"He came in complaining about a headache. The next thing I knew, he drank up half my stock of kanar," Quark explained.

Garak, attempting to maintain composure, greeted Julian, "Julian, what a pleasant surprise. I apologise for my outburst at lunch the other day, but I promise I'll make it up to you. Please, join me."

Julian agreed, "I think I will. May I?"

"By all means," Garak welcomed him.

As Quark attempted to reclaim the bottle, Julian redirected the situation. "What are you doing? I think it's a little noisy in here. I prefer to drink somewhere quiet."

An idea struck Garak. "An excellent idea. We'll go to my quarters."

"Whatever you want. But first, I must make a stop at the Infirmary," Julian insisted.

"The Infirmary? My dear Doctor, what kind of fool do you take me for? Now, give me back my bottle," Garak demanded.

Julian held firm, stating, "I will. In the Infirmary."

Garak, feeling the effects of his headache intensify, collapsed in pain. "Make it stop. Make it stop."

Julian dropped to his knees next to the fallen Cardassian, quickly scanning his vital signs.

"Julian to Ops. Medical emergency. Two to beam to the Infirmary’, Julian commanded before they disappeared into the sparkling energy field of the transporter.

Next

The infirmary was tense as Julian appraised Garak’s condition. Doctor Jabra had tried to persuade Julian, that she should be the Cardassian’s primary physician. But Julian put a stop to that. He had data on Cardassian’s that the other doctor didn’t, and he wasn’t in the position to share that data with her.

They had come to a compromise, where Doctor Jabra would monitor Julian to ensure that he didn’t appear to be emotionally compromised by his lover being incapacitated.

As Garak lay unconscious on a bed, a medical scanner displayed filaments inside his head, while a device rested on his forehead, emitting a soft hum.

Julian hadn’t seen anything like it before, he needed to gather as much data as he could so he could start searching the Cardassian Data base. If Garak had some sort of implant, it must have been put there by the Obsidian Order.

He needed a legitimate reason to go after the Order. But he couldn’t reveal that he already knew about them. It left him with one avenue to try...

“Some kind of implant?” Odo questioned as he examined the readings.

“Apparently,” Julian confirmed, studying the display. He didn’t understand, from the scarring around the device, it looked like it had been deactivated at some point. Probably before he had been kicked out of the Obsidian Order.

“What’s it for?” Odo inquired further.

“Well, I was hoping you could tell me. After working for the Cardassian’s for five years, I’d guess you know them as well as anyone,” Julian replied, hoping Odo would take the bait.

Odo shrugged. “Maybe so, but I never bothered to look inside their skulls.”

“No, I don’t suppose you did,” Julian conceded.

“Do you think this is the cause of Garak’s condition?” Odo probed.

“It’s possible. Whatever this thing is, it’s situated in his postcentral gyrus and has filaments that were connected it to his entire central nervous system,” Julian explained. It looked like something was interfering with it. He wasn’t sure if someone was trying to repair it or destroy it. But something strange was happening to it.

“Maybe it’s some kind of punishment device. A parting gift from the Cardassian government,” Odo suggested.

“I thought of that but based on the amount of scarring in the surrounding tissue, this implant’s been deactivated years ago. And as far as I can tell, Garak’s only been in pain for the past few days,” Julian countered.

“Interesting. I wish I had an answer for you, Doctor,” Odo admitted.

“Well, I was hoping you could help me get one. I think Quark knows what this thing is,” Julian revealed.

“Now what makes you say that?” Odo inquired.

“I overheard them talking the other night. Garak was negotiating to buy some merchandise from Quark. He seemed desperate. I tried to ask Quark what it was about, but...” Julian trailed off.

“No need to explain, Doctor. The direct approach seldom works with people like him. This could answer some of my own questions. Quark has sent several coded messages to Cardassia Prime in the past few days,” Odo disclosed.

“Really?” Julian’s interest was piqued, Julian might be able to track them.

“I routinely monitor all of Quark’s subspace communications,” Odo explained.

“Is that legal?” Julian questioned.

“It’s in the best interests of station security. Doctor, do you want to know what Quark knows or not?” Odo countered.

“I see your point,” Julian relented.

“Then meet me in Security at oh two hundred hours. Quark always makes his clandestine calls after the bar closes,” Odo instructed.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Julian affirmed, if Quark knew what Garak was trying to order it might be a clue. In the meanwhile, Julian had taken a blood sample from Garak. He was going to run it through a Remnant scanner to see if there was anything unusual to be seen.

Quarks was silent in the middle of third shift, it was the only time he shut down for two hours for cleaning and maintenance. It was mainly so Quark could have his gaming tables that they hadn’t been tampered by anyone other than Quark.

On a monitor, a handsome Cardassian named Boheeka appeared, engaging in conversation with Quark.

“Quark, you parasite. It’s been too long. Is Hartla still working for you?” Boheeka greeted jovially.

“The dabo tables wouldn’t be the same without her,” Quark replied smoothly.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see her again,” Boheeka reminisced.

“I’m sure she misses you too,” Quark remarked.

“I’ll bet she does. She would’ve bankrupted me if the occupation would’ve lasted much longer. But I’m sure you didn’t contact me just to reminisce. What can I do for you?” Boheeka inquired.

“How’d you like to earn a little extra latinum? Maybe enough to buy yourself a promotion?” Quark proposed.

“You have my undivided attention,” Boheeka tilted his head intrigued.

“I need a piece of Cardassian biotechnology and the schematics relating to its installation,” Quark requested.

“Biotechnology. That shouldn’t be too difficult. What is it?” Boheeka inquired further.

“You know, I never ask those kinds of questions, but I’ve got the requisition code number,” Quark replied cryptically.

“Give it to me. I’ll look for it,” Boheeka agreed.

“I knew I could count on you. Here it is,” Quark provided the code.

Odo’s security office was silent, bar for Julian and Odo himself.

Julian and Odo watched the exchange intently from Security.

“I hope you don’t have one of those little bugs hidden in my quarters,” Julian quipped gesturing to the vid screen displaying Quark clearly.

“Should I?” Odo retorted.

^*^

“Transmission complete,” Quark announced.

“Hold on,” Boheeka interrupted, leaning forward over his console.

“This won’t take long,” Boheeka assured Quark. He concentrated on entering the code that Quark had given him, calculating how much he should charge the greedy Ferengi for this favour.

“Take your time,” Quark replied casually.

“Quark, you idiot!” Boheeka’s tone shifted suddenly. The screen started to flash a warning; the light could easily be seen reflected on to Boheeka.

“Is something wrong?” Quark inquired, concerned.

“Is something wrong? I’m ruined. My career is over,” Boheeka lamented.

“What did I do?” Quark was bewildered, Boheeka was a reliable contact for contraband.

“You and your damn requisition code. It’s for classified biotechnology, Quark. Even the cursed number is classified. Where did you get it? No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. If I’m lucky, I can still get through this with my skin intact. Maybe they won’t trace the request back to me,” Boheeka revealed worry and fear evident in his features.

“Who won’t?” Quark pressed for more information.

“The Obsidian Order,” Boheeka dropped the bombshell.

“Nice talking to you, Boheeka. We’ll have to do it again sometime,” Quark concluded hastily. Quark wasn’t an idiot, he knew and feared the Obsidian Order, as would any sane being in the quadrant would.

Meanwhile in the security office, Julian and Odo watched on silently. Julian was pleased that the Order had been mentioned, this now enabled him to officially know about Cardassia’s most secret of organisations.

He had to play this carefully.

“The Obsidian Order. That certainly complicates things,” Odo remarked grimly.

“Who are they?” Julian inquired innocently.

“They’re the ever-vigilant eyes and ears of the Cardassian Empire. It is said that a Cardassian citizen cannot sit down to a meal without each dish being duly noted and recorded by the Order,” Odo explained.

“What happens if you eat something that doesn’t meet with their approval?” Julian asked.

“People have been known to disappear for less. Whether you agree with their goals or not, you can’t help but admire their efficiency. Even the Romulan Tal Shiar can’t compete with them when it comes to intelligence gathering and covert operations,” Odo elaborated.

If only Odo knew, Julian thought, maintaining a thoughtful expression throughout their conversations. Julian knew that Odo was very intelligent and detailed orientated, he had to be careful around Odo in case he noticed any inconsistencies.

“What has all this to do with Garak?” Julian wondered aloud for Odo’s benefit.

“I wish I knew,” Odo admitted.

“Do you think the Order put that implant in Garak’s head?” Julian speculated; this explained a great deal.

“I have a better question. If the implant is a punishment device, then why is Garak trying to get his hands on another one?” Odo posed the question.

“He did ask for the specifications. Maybe he’s trying to find some way of removing it,” Julian reasoned.

“Either way, I’d like to have a talk with him when he wakes up,” Odo decided.

“You’ll have to get in line. Thank you, Constable,” Julian acknowledged.

So, it looked like Garak knew there was something wrong with his implant and now that Julian had the requisition number, he would be able to go directly to the Order’s data network and get the schematics for himself.

^*^

Julian headed back to the Infirmary it was just Med-tech Ivanov on at this time during third shift, statistically the quietest time for the infirmary.

Just the scent of the decontamination products in the air made Julian feel at ease, back in familiar territory. He wanted to check on Garak before he locked himself in his office so he could do a deep dive through Cardassia’s Data Network.

Julian went to check on Garak’s status, only to discover he had checked out hours earlier.

“What? When did he leave?” Julian demanded.

“Patient checked out at zero three twenty hours,” the computer reported, leaving Julian puzzled and concerned about Garak’s sudden disappearance.

*^*

The corridor aboard the space station was dimly lit, with soft illumination emanating from the walls casting gentle shadows across the metallic floor. The familiar hum of the station could be felt through his shoes. Julian stood outside Garak's quarters; his finger poised over the doorbell. With a sense of urgency, he pressed it, the sound echoing down the corridor.

"Are you in there, Garak?" Julian called out; his voice tinged with concern. He waited for a response, but the only sound was the faint sound of machinery. Julian let himself in, to check if Garak was there.

Inside Garak's quarters, the atmosphere was tense. Garak stood near his desk, a hypo in hand, his expression unreadable. The one person he didn’t want to see him this state was now standing in his dimly lit sitting room.

"Ah, Julian, what a pleasant surprise," Garak greeted as Julian entered, a hint of mischief in his tone. "I'm sorry, I must've missed the door chime. Did I forget a date?"

But Julian was not in the mood for pleasantries. With a swift motion, he snatched the hypo from Garak's hand, his brow furrowed in frustration.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Julian's voice was stern as he examined the hypo. "Triptacederine. How much of this did you take?"

Garak shrugged nonchalantly. "A mere thirty cc's. Not nearly enough, I'm afraid."

Julian's eyes widened in alarm. "Thirty cc's would anaesthetize an Algorian mammoth."

Garak simply smirked. "We Cardassians must be made of sterner stuff. I barely feel it."

Frustration simmered in Julian's voice as he tried to reason with Garak. "Listen to me, Garak. I've had just about enough of your nonsense. Now you're coming back to the Infirmary with me."

But Garak remained stubborn. "I don't think so. Believe me when I tell you there's nothing you can do for me."

Julian's patience wore thin. "Oh, and Quark can, is that it?"

Garak's expression darkened slightly at the mention of Quark. "I thought I was supposed to be the spy."

Julian's tone softened, concern evident in his voice. "Quark's not coming, Garak."

Curiosity flickered in Garak's eyes. "How do you know?"

Julian hesitated for a moment before revealing what he had overheard. "I heard him talking to his Cardassian contact. He couldn't get the item you requested."

Garak's disappointment was palpable, but he quickly regained his composure. "Really? That's most distressing, but I suppose, not all that surprising. Ah, well. Maybe it's for the best. My hypospray, if you please."

Julian refused, his resolve firm. "Another dose of triptacederine might kill you."

Garak's request was met with a polite but firm refusal. "Thank you for your concern, Julian, but I'd rather have the hypospray."

Their exchange was interrupted by Julian's determination. "I'm not going to let you commit suicide. I'm here to help you, I care about you." Julian pleaded.

Garak's expression softened slightly, a hint of resignation in his eyes. "I doubt you can. I think you'll find that I'm experiencing some slight deterioration of my cranial nerve cluster."

Despite Garak's protests, Julian knew what needed to be done. "It's not so slight, I'm afraid. We've got to get you to the infirmary."

But Garak remained obstinate. "My dear Julian, I have no intention of putting myself on display for the amusem*nt of the Bajoran inhabitants of this station."

Their conversation shifted to the implant in Garak's head, its true purpose finally revealed. As Garak explained, Julian listened intently, absorbing every detail. Including the details of how it had been violently deactivated two years ago.

The tension in the room was palpable as the truth unfolded, each revelation adding another layer to Garak's complex persona. The implant data was new to Julian, but he had read Garak’s Obsidian Order file, not that Garak knew that he knew all of Garak’s sins. He didn’t care.

“Garak we are in a relationship, you can tell me things,” Julian exclaimed frustrated. “I care about you, and it pains me when you are hurting,” Julian said gently stroking Garak’s eye ridges and applying pressure to the nerve cluster at his temples, offering temporary relief.

Garak hated being vulnerable, especially in front of Julian, to show such weakness. No matter if he was a Remnant, he was still a part of the Federation, Cardassia’s enemy. “The Order is most thorough, I doubt you will be able to reverse what ever they have done to me,” Garak stood silently in the middle of his quarters, where he and Julian had spent many pleasurable evenings.

Garak bent his head, quietly accepting the ministrations Julian was applying. Welcoming the temporary relief from Julian’s strong fingers. Fleeting though it would be.

“I have my computer in my office running scans, can you tell me anything strange or out of the ordinary that happened to you in the last week?” Julian gently asked as his thumbs rubbed soothingly over his eye ridges while still pressing firmly on the nerve cluster.

“No,” gritted out Garak, just trying to breath through the pain.

Julian sighed and looked at Garak compassionately. Even when he was in pain, he was incapable of revealing his secrets. “Erm, Quark told me he saw a Cardassian woman on the station,” Julian prompted.

Garak tried to jerk back, but Julian had a firm grip on him, one of the few times Julian had displayed his superior strength. “None of that now,” Julian said firmly. “Tell me the truth.”

Garak gritted his teeth, that didn’t help with his pounding head. “She was an agent for the obsidian order.” Frustratingly, Garak could feel himself start to tremor.

“Okay, that’s a start,” Julian said, mind racing through the possibilities of infection vectors. “Did you eat or drink together?” Julian said. "

Garak gave an outraged look despite the pain he was in. “I am not an amateur,” he hissed.

“Yes, I know,” Julian said soothingly, maintaining the rhythmic stroking of his thumbs. “But we need to cover all our bases. How about touch, did you perform the traditional Cardassian greeting?” Julian continued.

Garak shook his head, he felt if he tried to speak anymore, he might weep.

“Taste or smell?” Julian was reaching the end of his possibilities.

“No… yes,” Garak managed to get out, martialling his reserves. “Perfume, she wore really pungent perfume,” Garak said as he remembered Agent Vren’s scent.

“Scent, this is good,” Julian muttered. “Now this could be important, when did you notice this scent?” Julian urgently asked, pulse increasing. Julian had a nebulous idea at what could be making his implant reactivate in such an erratic and painful manner.

“As she turned to leave, I noticed it then,” Garak said, it was getting difficult to think.

“That’s good, I have an idea I can work on,” Julian said eagerly, before looking concerned at Garak’s condition. There wasn’t much Julian could do in the infirmary that he couldn’t do in Garak’s own bedroom, for now.

“Come I am going to put you to bed. As an actual doctor I have medication that might work better than Triptacederine,” Julian said. He winced at the sound of Garak’s barely audible whimper as Julian released the pressure from his temples.

Gently but securely, Julian took Garak’s arm and led him to the bedroom. Julian didn’t bother putting on a light as he could see clearly enough in darkness of the room, there was enough light from the living room filtering in.

Julian quickly pulled back Garak’s many blankets on his bed. He smiled when he saw the throw his grandfather had made for the other man. Bending down he took off Garak’s shoes and loosened the fastening to his trousers. Julian’s clever fingers made short work of undoing Garak’s jacket and pulling it off his shoulders.

Julian gently laid the Cardassian under the covers. With a gently stroke of his fingers through Garak’s smooth black hair, “I am just getting my medical bag, I’ll be right back.”

Garak laid in his familiar bed as traitorous tears escaped his closed eyes. He couldn’t remember anyone taking care of him like Julian had. He felt weak and useless, just like Tain had always said he was. He felt too weak from the pain to even try and wipe away his tears. What did it matter, Julian had already witnessed him at his lowest.

“Shoosh!” Julian’s soothing voice covered Garak, as his gentle fingers wiped away his tears.

“I have a neural stimulator. I am going to place them on your temples,” Julian explained. “It won’t remove all the pain you are in, but it might bring you some relief.” Julian set the device on each temple; a display sensor indicated it was on. Using his medical tricorder, Julian set the stimulator. It also had the added benefit of sending Garak’s vital signs directly to the tricorder.

“Now I am just giving you a muscle relaxer, it should kick in straight away,” Julian lent in and pressed the hypospray to Garak’s neck.

Julian sat next to Garak and gently stroked his hair, waiting for the medication and neural stimulator to take effect.

After five minutes.

“How does that feel, any better?” Julian softly said.

“Yes, much better my dear,” Garak said, eyes still closed. Still in pain, but manageable.

Now that Garak was feeling some relief it was time to ask, “Can I get another blood sample?” Julian said.

Now that Garak was able to think a little clearer, “you think Agent Vren poisoned me with her perfume?” Garak said. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities. He knew it was a tool in any assassin’s toolbox.

“Poison, not exactly, but I swear I am going to help you,” Julian said the pleading tone clear in his voice.

“Now my dear, you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” Garak said through a weak smile. “But you can take your sample.”

“You have forgotten my love, that I am the most dangerous and cunning foe anyone will ever meet,” Julian whispered before kissing Garak.

“Yes, my dear,” Garak breathed out as he begun to drift to sleep. He barely felt the hiss and sting of the blood draw.

“Excellent!” Julian lent forward and placed a gentle kiss on Garak’s forehead. “I have to go back to my office and see if I can come up with a solution,” Julian rested his hand on Garak’s head. He didn’t want to leave his lover, but he was the only one who can figure this out.

As they parted ways, Julian knew that he would do anything to save Garak, his love. He was just worried that in doing so he would reveal himself to Garak. And with Garak's trust hanging in the balance, Julian knew that he couldn't afford to fail.

Odo

The corridor of the space station buzzed with activity, but outside the confines of Garak's quarters, an air of tension hung heavy. Julian stood his ground, facing off against Constable Odo, the urgency of the situation etched into his features.

"Doctor, I need to talk to him as soon as possible," Odo insisted, his gravelly voice betraying his concern. "I have four cases left in my homicide files which I'm almost certain were committed by the Obsidian Order. If Garak was a member, he may be able to shed some light on them."

Julian's response was firm, his gaze unwavering. "I'm afraid your questions will have to wait."

Odo pressed, his tone growing more insistent. "How long?"

Julian hesitated, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon him. "I don't know yet. Constable, Garak's body has undergone a severe shock. I don't know when he'll recover.”

The exchange reached an impasse as Julian asserted his authority over Garak's well-being. With a finality in his voice, he declared, "That may be so, but he's still my patient and I won't have him disturbed. So, until further notice, his quarters are off limits to everyone except emergency medical personnel."

Julian made sure the medical lock was in place on Garak’s door. “You’ll have to excuse me Constable, I have vital work ongoing in the infirmary,” Julian said before briskly striding down the corridor.

Odo just looked on with a frustrated sigh. He knew the doctor and Garak were in some sort of relationship. The doctors concern seemed genuine over the last three days. He will give the Remnant twenty-four hours before insisting on seeing the Cardassian himself.

^*^

Julian drummed his fingers on his desk willing for the scan to be complete. He added the additional parameters of the delivery system being airborne. He had started the blood analysis as soon as he returned to his office.

His search into the Cardassian Data Network was taking longer than he anticipated. It was the trouble with searching vast databases, unless you had the correct key words, the search could be next to useless. He had multiple searches underway, searching for: code for the implant device, as well as ‘Julian Bashir’, ‘Remnant’, ‘Garak’, ‘Agent Vren’, and any other search parameters he could think off.

Thank the Prophets for his own Quantum Network which could handle massive amounts of data at anyone time.

Julian was disturbed by a knock at his door.

“Julian?”

It was Miles looking worriedly at Julian.

“Miles,” Julian greeted, forcing a smile through his worry.

“I heard about Garak,” Miles said as he moved fully into Julian’s office looking slightly nervous.

Julian’s smile changed to a more natural one. “Yeah, he’s pretty sick, we think it’s something to do with Cardassia secret service,” Julian tried to explain, rubbing his forehead in tiredness.

“I left him in his quarters, he doesn’t feel comfortable in the infirmary. So, I tucked him up in bed and gave him some meds to help with the pain,” Julian said in a rush, his anxiousness coming through his voice.

“Yeah, so, erm,” Miles was stuttering, rubbing the back of his neck, a slightly pink hue to his cheeks. “I was able to reconstitute some of those Cardassian medical files you were asking me about the other day,” Miles said shifting his weight, as if embarrassed about caring for his friend.

Julian looked wide eyed at Miles.

“Yeah, well, it’s only 20% of the files but I was thinking that might help you and Garak,” Miles finished, as he walked over to Julian’s console to show him the file locations.

Julian felt a lump in his throat. He was overcome with emotion. He never doubted the goodness that existed in humanity. He just had to remember these moments of kindness, from friends to counteract the atrocities he witnessed. He didn’t know what to say.

Julian stood from his desk and before Miles could sit to access the medical files he threw his arms around the larger man. Hugging him tight. Miles stood their stiffly, not knowing how to react, until he awkwardly patted Julian on the back.

Julian held tight for another five seconds. “Thanks Miles, you are a true friend,” Julian managed to choke out. With one final squeeze he let the other man go and gave him a watery smile.

Miles was scarlet at this stage and slightly horrified.

Julian couldn’t help but laugh at the other man’s expression. “You were going to show me something?” Julian prompted to relieve the emotion in the room.

Miles seemed to breath a sigh of relief as he sat in from to the screen. “Here,” Miles fingers flew through the different menus on the display. “You can find the files here, I don’t know what was in there, but hopefully it will be helpful to you,” Miles said looking up at Julian with a smile.

“I’m sure it will Miles,” Julian said as he squeezed Miles’s shoulder in thanks.

Just then Julian’s console beeped, and a message flashed up ‘Analysis complete”. Immediately Miles got up so Julian could reclaim his seat.

Miles looked at Julian’s face in concern. The blue light from the display screen reflected eerily off of Julian’s face. He watched as Julian scrolled threw the results, his frown growing deeper as Miles looked on.

“Is it bad?” Miles asked tentatively.

“It’s unexpected,” Julian said as he stared off into the distance contemplating this new information, formulating a treatment plan.

Turning to look at Miles, “It’s nanites,” he said.

“I hadn’t heard that Cardassian’s had nanotechnology,” Miles said starting to look worried. “How did they dose Garak?”

“Oh, I think they used an aerosol,” Julian said absentmindedly as he read the results as quick as he could, a burst of hope within him as he formulated a treatment plan. He could clean Garak’s blood of the nanites, while figuring out what the little beasties were up too.

“Are you telling me that there are nanites loose on my station?” Miles said in alarm, the volume of his voice rising.

Tearing his attention away from the screen Julian turned to look at Miles in startlement. “As far as I can tell they were designed to interact with Garak’s implant,” Julian replied tentatively. After a moments thought Julian’s face brightened with excitement. “The air filters should be could enough to capture them, I think,” Julian suggested.

Miles looked appalled, “you think?” He demanded angrily.

“Miles, I only just got the results in, you were standing right next to me when they arrived,” Julian pointed out, starting to feel defensive in the face of Miles’s unjust anger. “If an aerosol was used, then there should be samples left in the filters in Garak’s shop. It should be simple enough to detect,” Julian explained.

Miles took a deep breath. This wasn’t Julian’s fault, and he did only just receive the results. Miles wrestled his temper under control. “Nanites are tiny, there would have to be a delivery vector of some sort, any ideas?” Miles said, hoping to get ideas on how he could detect these nanites.

“Garak reported a strong scent, he thought it was the woman’s perfume,” Julian informed Miles. “Because of that I would say the nanites were either in droplet form or maybe spores,” Julian said thoughtfully. “It would be much easier to get into the blood stream through the lungs, so the nanites could cross the oxygen blood barrier.”

Miles paced Julian’s small office rapidly, thinking furiously. “If you are sure that Garak was dosed in his shop, I should be able to get a sample of the nanites there. Once I have a sample, I should be able to develop a sensor to detect them in the other filters around the station, see just how far they were spread,” Miles says decidedly.

“If you can get me an uncompromised sample, I should be able to determine if the nanites can affect anyone other than Garak,” Julian said calmly. “But from my knowledge of medical nanites, they are usually programmed for individuals and are less effective on mass populations.” Julian stood and put a reassuring hand on Miles’s shoulder.

Miles breathed a sigh of relief at Julian’s confidence that these nanites weren’t about to infect the inhabitants of Deep Space Nine. “Okay I am going to check the filters in Garak’s shop,” he said, before exiting Julian’s office with a determined step.

As soon as the door closed behind Miles, Julian hurried back to his workstation. He sent off a quick message to Flix about the problem they were having with the nanites. Julian wanted Flix’s help in reprogramming the nanites to repair what ever damage they were doing to Garak’s brain.

Though Julian feared that he would need to confront Tain to get the original programming for the nanites.

^*^

Julian had devised a blood purification treatment for Garak, which would help purge the nanites from Garak’s system. This wouldn’t do anything to treat the damaged already inflicted by the nanites. He would need to wait to hear back from Flix to see if it was possible to use the nanites to repair the damage done to Garak’s brain.

Unfortunately, this treatment could only be done in the infirmary, so Julian had returned to Garak’s quarters to see if he could persuade the other man to come with him for treatment.

Julian moved about the room, his movements measured and deliberate. Garak, restless and tormented, paced the room in agitation, his emotions running high.

In a moment of vulnerability, Garak's facade cracked, and tears welled up in his eyes as he lashed out in anguish. "Leave me alone," he pleaded, his voice strained with emotion.

But Julian refused to back down, his concern evident as he approached Garak cautiously. "I don't think that would be a good idea right now. Your blood chemistry is severely imbalanced. You need to rest." Julian reached out to sooth his lover.

Garak recoiled, his pain bubbling to the surface. "Don't touch me," he snapped, his voice tinged with bitterness.

Despite Garak's resistance, Julian remained steadfast, his gaze unwavering. "Just calm down," he urged, his voice gentle yet firm. “I have important information to tell you,” Julian said palms extended in the human ‘I mean no harm’ pose.

Julian's concern deepened as he watched Garak unravel before him, his heart aching for the man he loved. "Take it easy, Garak, just come with me to the infirmary and I can start the treatment I have planned for you," he implored, his voice laced with empathy.

Garak paced the room, his frustration boiling over. "I don't want to be calm, Julian. I've been calm long enough," he exclaimed, his voice tinged with bitterness. He surveyed the insignificant confines of his quarters with disdain. "Look at this place. It's pathetic. To think that this is what my life has been reduced to. This putrid shell of sentimentality, this prison, it makes me sick to my stomach."

With a sudden burst of anger, Garak smashed a nearby flower vase, sending ceramic shards scattering across the floor.

Julian stepped forward cautiously, his tone soothing. "Take it easy, Garak. Look, you're obviously experiencing some side effects from the reactivation of the implant. I know what caused it and I can halt the progress on your implants decline."

Garak scoffed at the suggestion. "Ridiculous. I feel more clear-headed than I have in the past two years. Two years. What a waste these past two years have been." He overturned a nearby table in frustration, the clatter of wood against the floor punctuating his frustration.

"There was a time, Julian, oh there was a time when I was a power. The protégé of Enabran Tain himself. Do you have any idea what that means?" Garak demanded, his voice laced with bitterness.

Julian had to play at ignorance, though it pained him to see Garak in such distress, but he thought if he could release some of his anger, he might then be able to get him to the infirmary for treatment. So, he shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't."

"No, you don't, do you. You don't know much of anything, you who is always playing at being a spy," Garak lamented bitterly. "Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand. My future was limitless until I threw it away."

Julian knew why Tain had expelled Garak, because he had defied him and refused to be his puppet. That Garak had tried to have one small piece of happiness all his own. He wondered what Garak would confess too. "You mean when you had that shuttle shot down to stop those prisoners from escaping?"

Garak's expression darkened. "Stop them? I only wish that I had stopped them."

"You didn't?" Julian asked, acting surprised even now during Garak’s confused state.

"No, Doctor, my disgrace was worse than that. Unimaginably worse," Garak confessed, his voice heavy with remorse.

"What could you have possibly done worse than that?" Julian inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Garak recounted the fabricated memory, trying to show Julian, sweet innocent Julian what a depraved soul he was. "I let them go. It was the eve of the Cardassian withdrawal. Elim and I were interrogating five Bajorans. They were children, Julian. None of them were older than fourteen years old."

Julian listened, his heart heavy with empathy, as Garak described this imagined moment of weakness. Playing along with this fever dream, "You took pity on those children. There's nothing wrong with that."

"No! I was a fool!" Garak snapped, his voice tinged with self-loathing. "I should've finished the interrogation and turned them over to the troops for execution. But because I was chilly and my stomach was growling, I failed in my duty and destroyed everything I had worked for."

"And so, they exiled you," Julian concluded the story. Understanding that Garak was trying to show Julian the worse that he was. Never imagining that Julian had seen and sometimes even took part in atrocities worse than even Garak could imagine.

Julian was thousands of years old, and earth had a violent past. It was impossible to pass that time blameless. There were times when Julian’s soul had been mortally wounded and he had lashed out in pain and fury. He understood the terrible things a person could do in the wrong circ*mstances.

He had seen loving parents go off to work and commit unspeakable acts of cruelty in the justification of a day’s work.

"That's right. And left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you," Garak remarked bitterly, wanting to hurt the man he loved. He didn’t deserve love, Julian needed to toughen up and realise the universe wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.

Julian's expression fell, compassion clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company."

"I did. And that's the worst part," Garak confessed, his voice tinged with regret, pain fuelling his anger. He needed to make someone else feel the same amount of pain he was experiencing. "I can't believe that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into your smug, sanctimonious face. I hate this place and I hate you."

Julian sighed, his attempts at reconciliation falling short. "Okay, Garak, that's your prerogative. Now I really think you should come with me to the infirmary to start your treatment."

Garak's rage boiled over, and he lunged at Julian with fury, the two men grappling and breaking furniture in their struggle.

"Garak, stop this. I don't want to hurt you," Julian pleaded. Julian grabbed Garak’s wrist in such away that it restrained him. Forcing Garak into an uncomfortable position where he could no longer attack Julian.

But Garak's fury turned to convulsions, and Julian quickly called for medical assistance. "Doctor Bashir to the Infirmary. I need an emergency medical team in Garak's quarters now."

Julian quickly positioned Garak into the recovery position, making sure his airways remained clear. He hurriedly went through his medical kit and pulled out an anti-convulsant and quickly injected the medication.

He stroked Garak’s hair murmuring comforting words as he slowly stopped convulsing. Julian’s heart beat rapidly in his chest as he waited in silence except for Garak’s heavy breathing, for the medical team to reach Garak’s quarters, so that he could be transported to the infirmary.

Infirmary

In the infirmary, Julian swiftly directed the medical team. "Administer another twenty cc's of hyperzine," he ordered, his voice urgent.

Doctor Jabara shook her head worriedly. "He's not responding," she reported, her brow furrowing with concern.

"Give it a second. Begin cardiostimulation," Julian instructed, his tone focused.

As Jabara monitored the patient's vital signs, she noted, "His heartbeat is stabilising."

“Good, now that he is stable, I am going to start the blood purification,” Julian started to connect the equipment to Garak’s vein and artery, ready to start to recirculate his blood through the purifier, to strip out the nanites.

Julian turned to the computer terminal, issuing commands rapidly. "Computer, display analyses of all biochemical samples taken from the patient, monitor nanite reduction rate."

Jabara watched as the results appeared on the screen, her eyes scanning the data. "Would it help if we synthesised Cardassian leukocytes?" she asked, hoping to improve the outcome for her patient.

"Probably, but the main issue is to reverse the damage done to his brain and stop his implant from malfunctioning,” Julian said eyes glued to the readout on the screen. He could see the count of nanites in the blood dropping. But this was only a delaying tactic. “It could take weeks to reverse engineer the nanites and we don't have that much time. We have four or five days at most, before the strain on his body is too much" Julian replied, his tone grim with the urgency of the situation.

Jabara suggested an alternative. "Could we repair the implant and turn it back on, we might be able to keep him alive for another week or two."

But Garak, the patient, intervened. "No," he declared firmly.

Surprised, Julian turned to him. "What?"

"I won't allow it. I never want that thing turned on again," Garak insisted.

Julian nodded in understanding. "I understand how you feel, I have sent everything I have to Flix. They’re a genius after all, I am sure they will be able to figure out what the nanites are doing to the remains of your old implant. Chief O’Brien is also working on his samples. I am positive we will find a solution,” Julian hurriedly told Garak.

“Listen to me Garak, Doctor Jabra is correct, I might be able to repair the implant, I have the schematics now and it is doable. I could remove it as soon as we can figure out how to reprogramme the nanites,” Julian pleaded.

Even in his muddled state Garak was able to say, “I thought you said Quark wasn’t able to get me the device.”

Garak paused, “no I don’t want the implant switched back on, these last two years showed me I can live without it, with you. If it’s put back in, I am afraid it will change the way I feel about you,” he whispered.

“Okay, I won’t repair the implant,” Julian promised, holding Garak’s cold hand in his, gently stroking the back of his hand. If it looked like Garak might die Julian will take him to the Remnant science center and damn the consequences.

Garak called Julian’s attention back to himself. "You've done enough, Julian. More than I deserve. There's something you have to know."

Julian's curiosity was piqued. "What's that?"

"The truth," Garak replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Julian sighed softly. "Garak, I've already told you; I know you, all of your deepest secrets, remember,” Julian said gently. He unpinned the medallion from Garak’s jacket. The one Julian had given him a year ago and placed it in Garak’s hand.

“See it’s here, the medallion I gave you,” Julian said.

Garak felt the familiar weight of the medallion, his thumb traced over the embossed letters of the Syntara words, before feeling the smoothness of the black volcanic glass.

“If you had practice Syntara, like I told you, you would be able to read the inscription and know the depth of my understanding,” Julian scolded a soft smile on his face as he held Garak’s hands in his.

Garak let a tired chuckle out. “It’s complete nonsense to waste my energy learning a made up language that no one speaks, when I can get the transcripts online,” Garak protested.

“Well, you’ll regret it,” Julian warned, leaning closer and placing a soft kiss on the corner of Garak’s mouth, not caring the medical staff were all watching.

"Don't give up on me now, Garak. Patience has its rewards," Garak urged. "Now listen carefully."

As Garak recounted his past, Julian listened intently, his expression thoughtful. "Why are you telling me this, Garak?" he inquired when Garak finished, knowing all the half-truths the story held.

"So that you can forgive me. Why else? I need to know that someone forgives me," Garak confessed. He could never tell Julian the full unvarnished truth of his life before Deep Space Nine. But by telling him these terrible stories and if he forgave him anyway, it was like forgiveness by proxy.

Julian's response was immediate. "I forgive you for whatever it is you did."

"Thank you, Julian. That's most kind," Garak acknowledged gratefully.

Julian turned to Jabara, issuing final instructions. "See that he rests comfortably. I'll be back within fifty-two hours."

Jabara looked puzzled. "Where are you going?"

"To find the man responsible for this," Julian declared determinedly, his eyes flashing with resolve. He was going to see his old lover Enabran Tain. Not that the man would recognise him in his new body.

Tain's

Julian materialised in Tain's home, the unfamiliar surroundings piquing his interest. He only had a few seconds to set his key in to a suitable surface. There was an orange and yellow stained glass window. One of the frames was a suitable size, large enough for Julian to walk through comfortably.

Without a moments hesitation he sets his key into the frame. That done he quickly looks around; he needs to set a much smaller one somewhere so he can monitor Tain and all those present in the room.

He spots a display cabinet, not ideal, but it would get a good view of Tain’s desk. There was a white light fixture, with small openings carved into it. Julian dashes to the light fixture and reaches up and presses his thumb in one of the openings and sets another key.

Julian estimates that it is 50/50 whether Tain has security cameras on or not. No matter Julian and more importantly Flix was sure that the Cardassian’s didn’t have the tech to be able to identify the keys to the quantum portals.

Julian decided to explore the room as he waits for Tain to show up. He realised almost immediately that Tain’s purpose was probably to force Julian to bargain for Garak’s life for Remnant secrets.

It didn’t really matter; Julian was planning to feed Tain with any bullsh*t he wanted if he got the programme for the nanites.

In case Tain was watching he walked over to the computer console that stood out in the room.

"Doctor Bashir. Welcome. Please make yourself at home," Tain greeted warmly, his presence commanding respect despite his advanced age.

Julian doesn’t know why, but he held his breath in anticipation, waiting for Tain to recognise him. Which was ridiculous, Watchers who had been studying Julian for years didn’t recognise him. Tain had only known Julian for three months sixty years ago. Cardassian’s had excellent memories, but they were no match for a Remnants memory.

"Well, Doctor, you've come all this way to see me. Aren't you going to say something?" Tain inquired; his eyes sharp as they bore into Julian's.

"How did you know my name?" Julian questioned, a hint of suspicion in his voice. He thought he should play the idiotic dolt. It would play into Tain’s hubris.

"Information's my business," Tain replied cryptically, his gaze unwavering.

“I hope you weren't greeted too rudely upon entering Cardassian space,” Tain said pleasantly as he entered the room fully.
“Not nearly as rudely as I expected,” Julian made a half grimace, he was happy he would remember this meeting perfectly, so he could have a good laugh later.

“Good. I alerted them that you'd be coming. The military hate surprises. Still, what you did was very brave. I'm impressed. Can I get you something to drink? Tarkalean tea perhaps?” Tain politely offered.

Julian thought it best to follow the script that Tain had obviously planned, to impress a naive junior Star Fleet officer like Julian was supposed to be. “I always drink Tarkalean tea.” Julian smiled broadly, before allowing the smile to fall from his face.

Tain strode over to the replicator, casually showing his back to Julian. Letting him know that he didn’t consider him a threat. Julian narrowed his eyes; he will take great pleasure in setting him straight one day in the future.

“A good host knows the needs of his guests. One Tarkalean tea, extra sweet, and a glass of kanar. So, Lieutenant, how's Garak? Has his condition improved at all?” Tain asked with faux concern.

“That Cardassian Quark was talking to, Boheeka, I suppose he really did have a reason to fear the Obsidian Order,” Julian said, remembering Odo’s flippant remark about the Obsidian Order. He will let the security chief know that there must be more than one spy on Deep Space Nine.

“Everyone has reason to fear the Order,” Tain said smugly before taking a drink of his kanar.

“Including Garak?” Julian asked.

Tain ignored Julian’s question. “I bet you could tell me all kinds of things I'd like to know, Doctor,” he said with a suggestive look.

Julian’s jaw clenched, he needed to be careful. He knew that Tain had arranged this whole charade to get Julian here. He doubted Tain expected to get any actual information about the Remnants. Well not any information that Tain didn’t already know.

There was only one thing that Julian could think of that would make the risk worthwhile.

“So, tell me, Doctor, how sick is Garak?” Tain asked, not a hint of concern for his son showing, as he sat in a nearby chair.

“He's dying.”

“And you're trying to save him,” Tain said just a hint of a mocking tone to his voice.

“That's right.” Julian remembered to breath, any moment now Tain would make his move.

“Strange. I thought you cared for him.”

“I do,” Julian said hotly.

“Then you should let him die. After all, for Garak, a life in exile is no life at all,” Tain’s eyes had a hint of pity in them.

Julian’s real anger was starting to rise. He had forgotten what an absolute dick Tain was face to face. Julian wished he had made the bastard watch fifteen hours of the Hallmark Murder Mysteries. Ha! That’s what Julian gets for trying to be kind to a young man out in the big bad world for the first time.

“Say what you will, my job is to keep him alive, and I need your help,” Julian said hoping to move this ordeal along. He wanted to get back home to Garak. Preferably without ripping out Tain’s heart.

“My help? What can I do?” Tain said with faux innocence.

Consciously Julian released the tension from his jaw so he could get the words out. “I need the programme that has reactivated Garak’s implant,” Julian started, time to stroke the ego a bit. “Our experts have told me it will be months before they are able to reverse engineer the programme. That will be too late for Garak,” Julian added a note of desperation to his explanation, not entirely feigned.

“And what will you do for me?” Tain asked, his eyes staring into Julian’s.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about medicine or biology?” Julian suggested hopefully.

Tain smiled triumphantly. “I am interested in biology,” Tain said and then added after a dramatic pause. “Your biology in fact,” Tain smiled a predator’s smile, all teeth.

Julian visibly swallowed; he added a little tremble to his hands. My God Ian trained him well. Watching through wide nervous eyes, Julian could tell Tain swallowed every single bit of his performance.

“And I will get the programming information I need?” Julian said a slight quiver in his voice.

“But of course my boy,” Tain said. He pushed himself up from his chair and walked over to the desk and pressed a few icons on the computer desktop.

Julian’s mouth wanted to drop open. How arrogant was Tain that he cavalierly accessed his computer system in front of Julian. I mean it didn’t matter; Julian had bugged Tain’s computer sixty years ago. But it was the principle of the thing! Rating Julian’s threat so low, it was insulting.

A Cardassian woman with greying hair and wearing a dark brown suit entered, carrying a standard med-kit by the looks of it.

“This is my personal physician, she is just going to take some samples, while I arrange for that nanite programme you are so worried about,” Tain said as he now sat at his desk as he typed his commands.

The doctor pushed Julian towards a nearby chair. Julian was careful to watch exactly what files Tain was opening, remembering everything perfectly. It will be useful when he got back to the station. When he had Garak heeled, he will take some time and go through the files, Tain was currently shuffling about on his console.

Julian’s attention was brought back to the doctor as she prepared to take various tissue and blood samples. Julian made a show of looking nervous and conflicted. The Cardassian doctor was a professional and took her samples with the minimum of pain. Julian noticed the spark of excitement as she noticed he wounds repairing themselves in front of her eyes.

Julian wasn’t worried. Remnants had thoroughly corrupted the Cardassian Data Network the same as the Federations, thanks to Julian. All the data she was gathering from his samples were being subtly changed, making them functionally useless for studying Remnant physiology.

“There the data has been sent to the computers on board your shuttle,” Tain stated, the glee at finally having a remnant in his grasp unmistakable.

“How can I trust you?” Julian said as he rolled down his sleeve, covering the place the samples had been taken from.

“Oh, don’t worry doctor. I'm not doing Garak any favours. He doesn't deserve a quick death. On the contrary, I want him to live a long, miserable life. I want him to grow old on that station, surrounded by people who hate him, knowing that he'll never come home again,” Tain said vindictively.

"And now, Doctor, I really think you should be going," Tain remarked, signalling the end of their conversation.

"One last thing," Julian interjected, curious how Tain will answer.

"Make it brief," Tain urged, his patience wearing thin now he had gotten what he wanted.

Julian hesitated before asking about, "Elim."

Tain's chuckle filled the room, a hint of amusem*nt dancing in his eyes. "Elim? I can see that Garak hasn't changed a bit. Never tells the truth when a lie will do. Doctor, Elim is Garak's first name."

As Julian departed, he looked forward to meeting Tain again and telling him all about the laughs he has had at Tain’s expense. Maybe he should start sharing some of his stories with Garak. Julian knew exactly where to aim for to do the most damage to Tain’s ego.

Replimat

Alone in the bustling Replimat, Julian found himself lost in thought, his mind filled with thoughts of Garak. It was taking Garak much longer than Julian predicted to figure him out. He loved Garak and he was really frightened a time or two in the last ten days, that he would not be able to save him.

Julian was trying to make up his mind on whether to tell Garak some of his truth. Garak hadn’t turned his report into Tain when he asked for it. But Garak had a complicated relationship with his father. Garak’s refusal to hand over the information could have been more about Tain, than his feelings for Julian.

It was something to think about.

"May I join you?" Garak's voice broke through his reverie, prompting Julian to look up in startlement.

"Garak," Julian exclaimed, a mix of surprise and concern washing over him as Garak took a seat opposite him.

"What are you doing up?" Julian asked, his worry evident as he observed Garak's appearance. “You are meant to be in bed,” Julian scolded his lover.

"Out of the question. I couldn't stand being cooped up in that dreadful infirmary for another second," Garak replied casually, brushing off Julian's concern.

Their conversation soon turned to lighter topics, but the underlying tension remained, a reminder of the events that had unfolded in recent days.

"I still have a lot of questions to ask you about your past," Julian began, hoping to start up their playful game of cat and mouse. With Julian implying Garak is a spy and Garak of course denying it. Julian hoped that they could get there relationship back to where it was before Garak’s implant had been corrupted.

At least Julian had been able to reprogram the nanites to dismantle the implant altogether and repair the damage done to Garak’s brain. So far it didn’t look like that Garak was suffering any lasting effects from his traumatic brain injury.

Garak's enigmatic smile only deepened as he replied, "I've given you all the answers I'm capable of."

Julian just smiled back at Garak. Hoping that his first assessment of the Cardassian was correct. And that he will take the revelation of Julian’s true abilities as well as Julian predicted. As they shared a moment of quiet companionship, Julian couldn't help but wonder at the marvel that was Garak.

It was much rarer than many supposed, to meet a partner that was so compatible, it was like you have found a part of yourself you didn’t even know was missing. Julian resolved to just enjoy his time with Garak and at that moment it was teasing Garak about, Meditations on a Crimson Shadow by Preloc.

Julian smiled brightly at Garak and wondered if he could persuade the Cardassian that a truly atrocious Orion adaption, basically Preloc’s classic turned into p*rn, was worth a watch.

The two men conversed comfortably as the energetic station swirled around them.

Revelations

It had been two days since Julian had finally released Garak from the infirmary after he deemed that the nanite attack to his implant had been resolved and Garak could go home.

His mind was roiling from the trauma of the injury along with the psychological wounds that had been viciously re-opened by Tain.

‘Enabran Tain’.

When he had first realised that Julian had gotten his cure from Tain, well the nanite programme, he was too injured to fully comprehend the enormity of what the other man had done. Frankly he had been swamped in sentimental feelings of gratitude for dear sweet Julian, going to all that effort and risk.

At first, he was thinking how naive the doctor had been. How Julian ‘just didn’t understand the danger he was in!' But two days later, the drugs had worn off and though his pain persisted, he had started to think more clearly.

‘How had Julian known to go to Tain? How did he even know where he was?' the thoughts twisted in Garak’s brain. ‘And apparently he just strolled into Tain’s lair and bargained some Remnant secret for the information he needed?' Garak knew it must have been Remnant secrets he had exchanged.

Garak knew Julian, yes, he was very free about certain aspects of being a Remnant. But the more he read the great saga 'Echoes of Ascendancy’ the more Garak realised that everything Julian told him he could have learnt from the Graphic Novels. Garak heart thundered in his chest.

Not wanting to look weak in front of the denizens of the station, he tried to hold his posture upright. He stood for a moment in indecision. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want company. People were rushing by him, not paying him any attention. A moment later a cry of 'Dabo!' could be heard echoing from Quarks.

‘Quarks it is,' Garak thought. Slowly he walked towards the popular bar. He climbed the stairs to the mezzanine level, and luckily found a small table deep in the shadows. It was a good vantage point, in that he could see and hear those around him, but secluded enough that it wouldn’t be immediately obvious that he was sitting there.

He was feeling uneasy about Julian’s actions to save him. It wasn’t from noble sense of not being good enough for the young man. But from the apparent ease he had gone and gotten the information to save him.

He ran his hands through his hair, feeling confident no one would observe this nervous habit.

“What can I get you?” One of Quarks many waiters asked, almost appearing from nowhere.

“A glass of kanar, if you please,” Garak ordered.

Garak tried to hold himself still, so he did not betray his anxiousness to anyone who was watching him.

Julian always claimed to be very intelligent from his genetic engineering. He in fact claimed to be many things due to his ‘moniker of a super soldier,' but he always said it with such arrogance or in an obvious way that Julian was easy to be dismissed.

‘Could Julian be more than he seemed?' Garak pondered, frowning. ‘No... could Julian be exactly what he always said he was?' Garak’s breath caught in his chest at this thought, his temples throbbed from the stress. He was simultaneously too hot and too cold.

“He’s Remnant, are you mad!”

A strident voice reached Garak through the crowd, drawing Garak’s attention like a moth to a flame. Garak cast a sly look around until he noticed a table of four ensigns not too far away. Garak recognised three of the young people, but there was an older woman with them.

Garak furrowed his brows, when he noticed the older woman was also an ensign, an anomaly. Now that he was concentrating on the group, he realised that the woman came on board about ten weeks ago.

It had been over a year since Garak had last heard any disparaging remarks about Julian. He settled back into the shadows so that he could observe the group more closely.

Just then there was a thump at his table as the waiter placed his drink order on the table. He held out the pad he was holding to Garak, looking for his thumb print.

Garak applied his thumb print on the pad with a grimace. He couldn’t help but think of all the microbes that must be on the pad. Payment made the waiter disappeared back into the gloom.

Garak brought his attention back to the noisy table of Star Fleet officers. Their scattered drink glasses before them evident of how long they had been drinking.

“Bashir’s nice and cute,” a pretty ensign was saying, she had red hair, but from this distance Garak couldn’t see her features clearly.

“Cute! Nice! Did you sleep through earth history?” The older ensign demanded. Garak could practically see her eye roll from his position. “Didn’t you see any of the vids from the war and how the Remnants fought like demons?” the woman continued hotly.

“Erm, but that was ages ago,” one of the young men at the table plaintively said.

“Are you an idiot?” the woman emphatically stated. “Bashir’s a genetic killing machine,” she said thumping the table for emphasis, making the glasses rattle.

“Seriously your paranoid,” the other ensign said, scoffing. “The Docs ok, I see him in the Gym and sure he can lift some weights with those skinny arms. But hardly a super soldier” The ensign continued, his breadth of shoulder, a testament to the time he spent working out.

“Besides he is always telling everyone that he is a super soldier, it’s comical,” the second ensign said backing up their buddy.

The angry woman just looked at them in disbelief, mouth slightly open.

“Yeah, he’s so clumsy. He’s a bit pathetic really,” the young female ensign said with a toss of her red hair.

Garak was starting to feel offended on Julian’s behalf.

The older ensign sighed loudly. “Ok, I will lay it out for you. Now you Adebayo, you did well at the academy, right?” she said while looking at the ensign with the dark curly hair. The young man simple nodded. “Now tell me what you thought of that spoon head when you came on board?” She said with raised eyebrows.

The curly haired ensign now furrowed his brows. “That he was a spy of course,” he scoffed.

“Exactly. Did you believe that co*ck n’ bull story about him being a tailor?” She asked intensely, leaning forward in her seat.

“No”.

Turning to look at the other two ensigns, “what about you two?” the older ensign asked.

The other two looked at each other before looking back at the older ensign, both declared that of course, he, Garak was a spy and that it was obvious. Garak doubted that the three youngest ensigns had any such ‘obvious ideas.’

Garak narrowed his eyes at the older woman, though she could not see him. He would have to keep an eye out for her. She seemed like trouble.

“So here comes Bashir, who had the second highest marks in the whole of star fleet academy for his year. Somehow, he doesn’t realise that Garak is a spy, even worse that as a Cardassian, that he is dangerous,” She looks at her companions to make sure they are listening.

‘Work out' ensign just shrugs his shoulders. While the redhead is looking nervous as her eyes dart around the room. Luckily, she misses Garak sitting in the shadows.

“So, genetically engineered super soldier comes on board and boom he falls in the lap of the only Cardassian spy in this sector?” She said, tone sharp. “None of you finds this suspicious at all?”

“Well, everyone knew he was a Remnant as soon as he came on board. The Cardassian probably found out too and is using him for information,” The redhead accurately surmises.

The older ensign gives her companions a withering look and shakes her head. “Well, this is what I think happened,” she says boldly. “The Remnant came on board and bored out of his tree (super intelligence). Low and behold what does he spot but a Cardassian Spy. Hohoo! What fun! Let’s play with the Cardassian and see how much bullsh*t I can make him swallow,” she continued loudly, not even trying to be discreet.

“No! They’re cute, always arguing in the Replimat about poetry and movies,” the redhead ensign defends Garak and Julian.

“Seriously, he is just torturing the Cardassian, what human in the whole of history thinks Woody Allen’s ‘Anything Else' Is a good movie?” She said passionately.

Garak’s stomach turns to lead as he watches the three younger ensigns look at each other and then nod in agreement.

“I don’t know what the hell game Bashir is playing with the Spy, probably relieving his boredom,” the older ensign stated.

“Don’t get started me on all that, ‘I’m the most dangerous person on the station' Ooh! Look at me, aren’t I cute and harmless bullsh*t he is pulling,” The ensign said voice rising in anger as she was speaking.

“He is literally laughing his ass off at us all. Don’t you ever look at his eyes. HE. IS. LAUGHING. AT. US,” she emphatically states.

The other three are looking at each other in worry now, brows furrowed. Worried but not sure if they buy in, to the older ensigns’ theories.

Garak has heard enough and blots them out of his mind. He sinks back further into the shadows. His heart trying to pound its way out of his chest.

Garak can’t help but think back to their very first meeting. Where Julian tells him to his face that he is the most cunning and dangerous person he will ever meet. Garak head spins, he feels a little nauseous.

Garak’s hand steals up his chest to touch the medallion Julian gave him over a year ago. He remembers the smirking smiling look when Julian tells him he knows everything there was to know about Garak. His stomach flips.

He thinks about how easily Julian was able to track Tain down. How did Julian find Tain?

Garak unpins the medallion from his tunic and holds it in his hand. He remembers all the times Julian has looked at him with laughing eyes when he has worn the medallion.

Suddenly Garak is desperate to know what it says. He throws back the rest of his drink and hurries out of Quark’s, heading back to his quarters, as his whole universe tilts on its axis.

Chapter 17: The Society of Echoes

Chapter Text

Garak's quarters were shrouded in an eerie silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic tap of his fingers against the tabletop. Beside him lay the medallion Julian had bestowed upon him over a year ago, it glinted, catching the light from his pad's screen as Garak grappled with his inner turmoil.

His security pad, primed and poised for action, awaited his command. With a hesitant pause, his finger hovered over the icon, poised to unlock the secrets hidden within the medallion's enigmatic symbols. 'He could do this,' Garak silently reassured himself, though doubts continued to gnaw at the edges of his resolve.

For the past 48 hours, Garak had immersed himself in the daunting task of deciphering the cryptic message encoded within the medallion. He recalled Julian's laughter as he pointed out one of the words—a fleeting moment of camaraderie now overshadowed by uncertainty.

At the beginning he had made a half-hearted attempt to learn the language Syntara, but he didn’t see the point. Especially after he found the transcripts on line. Though he was now half-way through the book series, he knew no more of the language than he did the first day he started reading them.

He remembers when he revealed how clever he was by finding the transcripts so side stepping Julian’s insistence that he learned the language. Julian had just shaken his head and said ‘well don’t complain to me when you have missed some nuance of the plot'.

Now Garak’s guts churned. Some part of him desperately hoped that he was being paranoid, and Julian was exactly as he seemed. A naive young man and not some devilish mastermind who had conned Garak with a mere bat of his eye lashes.

Garak leant forward, elbows on the table, head rested in his hands. He shivered, even though the temperature was set as high as it would go.

He can hardly believe it. That he, Garak was played for a fool.

Garak prided himself on his competency, on his skill. There was no agent that could surpass his ability. Only Tain himself, was more ruthless and cunning. Did Tain suspect that Garak had been played as if he was a child.

The thought of Tain finding out that Julian a twenty-eight year old Remnant had taken him in. Garak curled his fist and banged the table as hard as he could. The table was made of sterner stuff and all the action did was bruise Garak’s hand.

Garak's gaze drifted to the medallion, its glimmering surface casting an accusing glare in the ambient light. Perhaps, he mused, he was merely succumbing to paranoia, allowing the biased ramblings of a bitter Starfleet officer to cloud his judgment.

He could still be correct in his original assessment. That Julian was a lonely, isolated outsider, just like him.

“Gah!” He shouted.

Standing abruptly to pace his living room. He snatched the medallion from the table. Gripping it so tightly that it left a mirror impression in his skin.

He frantically paced in front of the table, where his pad awaited him. To make the call that would resolve the meaning of the medallion once and for all.

‘Maybe it was nonsense. Maybe Julian was an arrogant idiot, and the medallion would spout nonsense about Garak being a spy but would just be a lucky guess. Yes! Maybe that was it just a lucky guess. It would have to be specific to have any meaning, wouldn’t it?'

Garak swirled about his darkened room, only the glow from his pad casting any illumination in his quarters.

His eyes lighted on the teal throw Julian’s grandfather made for him, thrown over the back of a seat. If he picked it up, he knew it would smell like Julian. Julian must have genuine feelings for him? Garak can’t be so bad at judging the Remnants feelings. His whole Star Fleet file would have to be a forgery for his mother and grandfather not to exist. Surely that’s not possible.

He met Ben and the delightful Doctor Li Wei Mei. There was something tricky about Ben, but he was at least three hundred years old, which would account for the shifting, ethereal personality, which was just out of Garak’s grasp. And Doctor Li Wei, was a human watcher. It would be too elaborate ruse for all of it to be fake and not detected by anyone.

Garak gripped his hair tightly in both fists. This was giving him a headache. Only Tain had made him feel this discombobulated before.

He had grown to have sentimental feelings for the other man. Now he didn’t know what to think. Did they have an actual relationship?

He paused opening his hand to look at the medallion. What had Julian said. That the medallion represented everything that Garak was. It was beautiful, complex piece of design. A comforting weight in his palm. Up until 48 hours ago he cherished it. Stylistically it suited him perfectly.

“DAMN IT!”

Of course it was going to reveal his deepest most secrets. How could it not. When only after a few short weeks of acquaintance Julian had managed to design something perfect for him.

He had to know.

He had to make the call to ‘The Society of Echoes’. Garak had done his research, put out feelers, and now had an appointment with three of the top experts on the ‘Echoes of Ascendancy’ series and the Syntara language, well in the amateur sphere at least.

Garak couldn’t face the possible humiliation of contacting a professional body to help decipher the medallion.

Before sitting back down at the table, he goes to his hidey-hole to get a bottle of authentic kanar, ironically a gift from Julian. He pours himself a generous glass of the blue, sweet liqueur and reluctantly returns to his chair at the table.

Taking a deep breath to settle his mind, so that he could present his calm and enigmatic persona to these experts. He was ready.

He takes a fortifying sip of his drink, the liquid sweet and cloying on his lips.

Garak sets the glass back down.

His hand hovers over the pad...

He initiated the call.

The symbol for ‘the Society of Echoes’, appears on the screen, their emblem seems to consist of an outline of a man surrounded by electricity with the motto ‘Together We Are Stronger’. A bit on the nose, Garak thinks.

Then the moment he dreads, the screen sub-divides in to quarters with the faces of the experts he is here to meet. It takes all his strength of mind not to react externally.

“I am Lara Vroe, the president of ‘The Society of Echoes’,” Lara, an Orion said with a toss of her abundant fiery red hair. “These are my associates Tau Modise,” the boy with tightly coiled hair and dark complexion waved. “And Thalis sh’Kareth. They are experts on Syntara and ‘Echoes of Ascendancy’ Universe cannon,” Lara finished.

All three looked at Garak expectantly.

Garak’s face was frozen in a rictus grin. As he took in the Orion girl, Earth boy and the Andorian boy. He didn’t think any of them was above fifteen years old. My ancestors, he thinks the boy Tau has acne.

Garak had done his research, he knew who these three children were. All three were obsessed with the ‘Echoes of Ascendancy’ Universe and were involved heavily in fan activities and debates. They all moderated various chat boards and outside of the professionals were renowned to be the current leaders in all things ‘EOA'.

“You have a puzzle for us?” Lara asked. Somehow at only thirteen, she still manages to sound supercilious. Her youthful brown eyes framed in heavy black rimmed glasses. She raises one shaped eyebrow, so it popped up over the rim of her glasses.

She must have practiced that, Garak thought uncharitably.

“Ah, yes,” Garak said in his most friendly and harmless tone. “A friend gave me this medallion and bet me I wouldn’t be able to translate it’s meaning,” Garak started off humbly. “Alas, languages are not my strong suit,” Garak said with another smile, trying not to grit his teeth in the face of this humiliation.

“If you send us a Hologram rendering of this medallion, we will probably be able to tell you its meaning once we have it,” Tau said eagerly.

With a quick flick of his fingers, Garak sent a faithful rendition of the medallion to the members of the society of echoes.

The three teens ooh! Over the hologram medallion. Each handling the piece of jewellery excitedly muttering to themselves and speaking to each other in Syntara.

Garak relaxes slightly at the obvious enthusiasm of the three young people, besides this call is encrypted, he is pretty sure no one can view this. Though the thought crosses his mind that Julian may be bugging him. He after all was bugging Julian. He didn’t know what to think about that. He will have to think about it later.

“Your boyfriend gave you this?” Lara said looking over the rim of her glasses.

“Don’t be sexist,” Thalis said coolly.

“Yeah, it could be a non-binary partner or a woman,” Tau cut in.

“No woman is going to waste her time making a broach in Syntara,” Lara said squinting at Garak. “So?” she raises her eyebrow again.

“Erm, yes it was a boy,” said a bewildered Garak. “I mean a man,” Garak said more firmly, hoping these children are unable to discern his embarrassment.

Lara pushes up her glasses on her nose, giving her friends a ‘I told you so’ look.

It was at that point that Garak realised there were no lenses in Lara’s glasses.

“There are no lenses in your frames,” Garak couldn’t help but point out.

Lara gives Garak a withering look, so cutting that he might have been mortally wounded if he was thirty years younger. “Don’t you know anything about fashion?” She demanded scathingly.

Garak felt his right eye start to twitch.

“Obviously not,” Garak said faintly. He could just imagine Tain laughing at his predicament, relishing Garak’s suffering.

“So, you can translate it?” Garak decided to bring the conversation back on track.

“You said your name is Garak?” Thalis asked directly.

“That is so.”

The three teenagers talked amongst themselves, the boy Tau frowning deeply for such a young person.

“The first part is very easy to read. You should have been able to figure it out yourself,” Tau said almost accusingly.

“Alas my poor ability at languages,” lamented Garak.

“Well, the first part simply says, ‘Garak, son of Tain, born 2322, Kiessa’,” Tau explains.

Garak freezes. ‘Son of Tain’. Ancestors, how did Julian know? No one other than Milla, his mother, Tain and Garak know this deadly information. Garak’s pulse raced, while his exterior remained calm.

His mind whirled with possibilities. He could not fathom how Julian could have this most private knowledge about him.

“And the rest?” Garak said.

The boy Thalis takes over. “The rest is nonsense. We think it might be in code,” the Andorian boy bluntly states.

“The symbolism is clear though,” Lara condescendingly states. She rotates the medallion in her hands and shows Garak.

“It represents an ‘Eye’, often symbolising someone watching over you or maybe spying,” Lara explains. “Often used as a symbol for secret societies,” Lara said. “Very common on Earth,” she sniffs, giving Garak a look as if he should have easily been able to find this out.

“It’s similar to the Watchers emblem in EOA,” Thalis added.

“The obsidian stone in the centre represents the pupil,” Lara said eagerly.

Garak felt the blood drain from his face. “Obsidian, I was told it was volcanic rock,” Garak was barely able to get the words out.

“Obsidian is a volcanic rock that is polished as jewellery. It’s also known as one of the sharpest natural mediums on Earth. But brittle, it can be easily shattered,” Tau said.

Garak’s head was spinning. He understood the symbolism now that Lara explained it.

It was so obvious. Garak felt like a green boobi, just staggering out of its nest.

Garak looked in the faces of the three young experts on all things EOA. Their eager young faces aglow with excitement as they puzzled out the meaning of Julian’s gift to him.

Garak could feel himself breakout in to a cold sweat, which he couldn’t control, but with an iron will he controlled the expression on his face as the three teenagers peered at him from his screen.

Putting on a fake smile, Garak said, “most enlightening. But you said that you think the rest of the message is in code?” Garak said with a slight head tilt, encouraging more information from his experts.

Tau told him what the sounds were, but it was just garbled nonsense coming from the speakers. He could see Lara and Tau arguing over the translation.

It was then that Garak realised it was the universal translator built into his pad was trying to translate what the teens was saying.

“Excuse me my dears, I seem to be having an issue with my translator. I am just going to make an adjustment,” Garak started to go through the settings on his pad and quickly disabling the automatic translation.

Garak spoke excellent Standard, so shouldn’t find it too difficult to continue their conversation.

“Now Tau, I have adjusted my settings, could you repeat the translation?” Garak politely asked.

Tau competently repeated the phrase twice.

Garak was dismayed.

Garak repeated the sequence back to the boy, to ensure he heard it correctly.

“Yes!” Tau said excitedly.

“Do you know what it means,” Thalis curtly asked.

“I am afraid not,” Garak smoothly lied, while his heart beat frantically in his chest.

“It must be a code,” Lara posited as she squirmed excitedly in her chair.

“It could be related to ‘Echoes of Ascendency: Dead Man Waking',” Thalis said, his antenna waving in excitement.

“Is your boyfriend a big fan of EOA?” Lara asked eyes bright with interest. The first time during this conversation where she behaved as the child she was.

“Yes, he told me he could understand Syntara by the time he was thirteen,” Garak said genially, he just wanted this call to end so he could rest his aching head and think.

“Oh, I could speak it fluently at eleven,” Lara said with a tilt of her chin, a condescending air about her.

“Well, my dears, many thanks for your assistance with this small matter,” Garak said, relieved that he could end the call at last.

The three kids looked a little disappointed that Garak was ending the call.

With that Garak abruptly ended the call.

He picked up the medallion in his trembling hands, cradling it, viewing it in the horizontal plane. Now looking at it, it was obvious it was an eye. He hadn’t realised that the word 'obsidian’ had a different meaning on Earth and was specifically referring to a stone used in jewellery.

Garak picked up his glass and drank the rest of his kanar.

He felt all his energy drain from his body as exhaustion set in. He pushed himself up from the table and staggered to his chair under the heat lamp.

Settling in under its soothing warmth, his arms listlessly rested on the armrests, hands opened. He tried to marshal his thoughts.

Everything Julian had said was true. His medallion did encapsulate the fundamental essence of Garak, it captured his life perfectly, well in the limited canvas of a piece of jewellery. He just didn’t know how Julian could have possibly gotten this information about him.

He knew his father, Tain. He would never record anywhere that Garak was his son. Could an old enemy know this about him? But that didn’t explain how Julian found out. He had only been on the station five or six weeks when he gave the medallion to him and made his preposterous statement.

Could Julian have known of him before he arrived? He thought.

No.

A man who could access the information Julian had, proved he would have no need of any information an exiled member of the Order possessed.

Garak brought up a hand and rubbed an eye ridge wearily.

He closed his eyes and let the warmth settle into his bones.

‘How?’

‘Why?’

Garak questioned himself.

Could the unnamed Ensign be correct, and Julian was just bored, was it that simple?

He remembered all the teasing conversations he had with Julian. His lover was an excellent and knowledgeable conversationalist. He was curious about Cardassian culture and literature. Though he proclaimed that a great deal of it was boring and repetitive.

So, it didn’t look like he was after any sensitive information from Garak. But with the obvious skill in data gathering Julian had he wouldn’t need Garak’s now obsolete access codes anyway.

A curious facet of Julian’s interest in Cardassia, was he never argued about the organisation of the Cardassian State or the fervour the Cardassian people were expected to serve it. He just shrugged and said one form of government was pretty much the same as another at ground level.

If the people were fed, housed, and clothed sufficiently for comfort, people would put up with a lot from which ever type of government they found themselves under. If it worked for the Cardassian people, who was Julian to judge.

A most unique perspective from a Federation citizen, not an opinion he had heard before. Most Federation members extoled their own version of government.

Maybe this was a sign that Garak should have heeded. An indication that Julian wasn’t what he seemed. Maybe this was a unique Remnant viewpoint.

Garak was starting to feel like he had been wasting his time and that if he had been paying attention, he could have actually learned worthwhile information on the Remnants and their society.

Garak shook his head at the mystery that Julian was turning out to be.

Julian was nearly always so light and laughing in his presence. Was it simply a game that Julian thought they were both playing. He had been challenging Garak when he gave him his medallion. Garak had known this at the time. But had so woefully underestimated Julian, he had dismissed him.

Garak pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to relieve the tension building up there.

He was so confused by Julian’s actions and abilities.

He recalled the last part of the puzzle. The code, the members of The Society of Echoes couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t a code, just formal Cardassian, used on all official State documents.

It had been Garak’s twelve digit ID code that all Cardassian’s received on their majority, showing that they were full members of the Cardassian State, ready to contribute however his planet needed him too.

‘Gs52 76gk F6Tr PjwQ'

There was nothing for it. He would have to confront Julian.

Tomorrow.

He was too exhausted to face the possible end of his relationship now.

Chapter 18: Confrontations

Chapter Text

Julian hurried through the now familiar corridors of Deep Space Nine, to Garak’s quarters. He easily wove his way through the crowds, paying little attention to those around him in his haste.

It had been over three days since their lunch in the Replimat, everything had seemed fine. They were flirting and teasing in their usual manner. Garak was still in some discomfort, which was to be expected with the brain injury Garak was recovering from.

As Garak had left the infirmary against doctors’ orders, Julian said he was to rest at home for two days. So, he hadn’t expected to see him around the station. But Julian hadn’t expected the total radio silence either.

Julian was still monitoring his vitals remotely, so knew he was alive, his heart rate and oxygen intake was a bit erratic, but not outside the normal range for a Cardassian.

Hence Julian spent extra time with Nerys at the Temple, meditating and in the holo-suite with Miles, where he was helping to build an exact 18^th Century Japanese Tea Garden for Molly and Keiko to experience. Not that Miles knew just how accurate it was, due to Julian’s perfect memory.

They were just waiting for Flix to send the replicator program for authentic Higashi, the dry, sugar based sweets, for the experience to be complete. Julian was looking forward to hearing how Keiko and Molly enjoyed the experience.

But now Garak had, had time enough on his own and Julian was going to confront him. He was worried about his state of mind. Julian realised that Garak had a very complicated relationship with his father. Tain wasn’t exactly the tender hearted type and from the files Julian had read, he had exploited Garak’s filial duty ruthlessly to his own gain. With no thought of the damage, he inflicted on his own child.

It must be a blow to Garak, to realise just how carelessly Tain would treat his own son’s health. Tain had gambled that Julian’s attachment would be enough to get him into his clutches, so he could extract the Remnant Biomaterial from Julian in exchange for the cure for Garak.

Julian gritted his teeth at the thought. He would remember, and at the right moment strike at the heart of Tain. Though he wasn’t sure if Garak would thank him for it or not. Mortal relationships could be intense. Family conflict was different for Remnants. There was the strict hierarchy for one. So, if there was a brother, sister, cousin, etc., you had a falling out with, you could interact peacefully enough through the formality of the hierarchy. Besides the Galaxy was huge. It was very easy to avoid someone if you wanted.

Time also had a mellowing affect, as a Remnant you didn’t sweat the small stuff, as the saying went. Compared with the rise and fall of civilisations, the fact that Cousin Joe didn’t invite you to their 15^th wedding ceremony, or you purposefully let your sister get murdered, because she was annoying you, seemed insignificant in contrast.

Mortal relationships could be confusing in comparison. One misspoken word at a funeral could lead to family infighting for decades.

As he hurried down the brightly lit utilitarian corridor, Julian gave a quick shake of his head to clear his thoughts, as he approached the familiar door of Garak’s quarters.

The door opened immediately at Julian’s request. The welcoming scent of Garak’s quarters enveloped Julian as he stepped through the doorway.

He entered the room cautiously, as the lights seemed to be all turned off. It was only when he entered the stifling hot living room that he realised he had been mistaken.

There was a single light on, focused on a low table, in the centre of the beam sat the medallion Julian had given Garak. The obsidian stone at the centre of the piece of jewellery glittered in the single light.

Julian’s eyes widened in delight. The breath caught in his chest in anticipation of the confrontation that was evidently about to come.

‘At last! Garak must have figured out the meaning of the message he had inscribed in the medallion,' he thought. Julian couldn’t help but grin, finally they would be able to move to the next level in their relationship. He wondered briefly what the trigger for Garak’s revelation had been.

“You think it’s funny, do you?” Garak growled out. ‘Was he just a joke to Julian,’ as he looked at the happy expression on his face.

Garak’s words had come from the shadows. Julian’s enhanced eyesight could see Garak clearly, wearing all black, sitting in the corner under his heating lamp. He could see the barest glow from the lamp indicating that it must have been turned off the moment before Julian had entered the room.

How dramatic.

How wonderful.

Julian tried to school his face to a less demented look.

“I think you are being a bit dramatic Garak,” Julian said clearly.

“I think I have the right to be ‘a bit dramatic’ as you say, after I have been played for a fool for over a year,” Garak said coldly, still shrouded in darkness.

“Don’t be ridiculous Garak, I did no such thing,” Julian denied, wondering exactly where Garak would take this confrontation.

“Oh, so you deny sending me out on to the station, with a, a, name badge pinned to my chest, like one of Mrs O’Brien’s young students?” Garak demanded hotly, leaning forward in his seat, a gleam to his narrowed eyes, daring Julian to deny it.

Julian chuckled. “Oh, no I definitely did that.”

Garak slumped back in his chair, dejected. He had hoped that Julian would deny it or have some reasonable explanation.

“Now Garak, that was just one of the many lessons I have gone to the trouble to teach you,” Julian said patiently, a little indulgent shake of the head.

“Lesson!” hissed Garak, eyes aflame now. He wanted to jump from his seat and throttle the man. Was he not taking him seriously?

“Why yes. It seemed you had forgotten one of the fundamental tenants of the universe,” Julian explained in a prim tone, posture straight. “That no matter how good you think you are, there will always be someone better,” Julian simply said, relishing Garak’s speechless look.

Garak rocked back in his chair, wide eyes just blinking. Shocked. He hadn’t forgotten that rule, he just didn’t think it would apply to him and Julian.

His universe tilted again.

“So, what! You were bored and wanted to play with the poor foolish Cardassian,” Garak sneered, trying to regain control of this conversation. While his heart pounded in his chest.

The only sound in the room at that moment was the constant background hum from the station and Garak’s breathing.

Julian sighed, some of the humour leaving his face as it softened, his smile gentled as he looked at Garak. “When I first came on board Deep Space Nine, I saw you standing on the mezzanine and I thought you looked lonely,” Julian explained softly. “I know something about loneliness, so I thought we could be beneficial to each other and have some fun.”

Julian remembered that first day and how happy he had been to spot the enigmatic lonely Cardassian.

Something twisted inside Garak at the thought of Julian seeing his loneliness and voicing it out loud. The thought that his vulnerability was visible for all to see sickened him. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly, knuckles pale grey from the strain. Feeling cold in the hot room.

“You thought I was lonely?” Garak whispered, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “And was I fun?” He added bitterly. He couldn’t help but think of the anguish Garak had put himself through. Arguing with his conscience about whether to send in the file on the Remnants to the Obsidian Order.

“Yes, lots,” Julian said blithely, smile on his face, as if he wasn’t driving a stake through Garak’s heart.

Garak sat silently in his dark pool of shadow.

“I don’t understand,” Julian said, smile fading, a slight furrow to his brow. “Why are you being so dramatic about this?” Julian knew Garak had a bit of a dramatic flair to him, all you had to do was see his wardrobe. He had expected Garak to act chagrin about mistaking Julian’s true ability, but then recognising Julian’s brilliance, to be pleased Julian had bestowed his attention on Garak.

Garak loved playing at being the shadowy puppet master. Look at how gleeful he was when he embroiled Julian with the escapade with those two Klingon sisters, shortly after they first met. Or the cloak and dagger with that poor Cardassian boy on Bajor, just to spite Gul Dukat. Hadn’t Julian dutifully played along and applauded Garak’s cunning?

Surely, he hadn’t misjudged Garak’s ego this much.

“Oh, you don’t understand how I could be upset because you have been playing me for a fool?” Garak shouted at last.

“Garak let’s not kid ourselves here. You are a trained Obsidian Order agent, trained personally at the direction of Tain. Frankly you should have known the risks when you set out to seduce the innocent little Remnant. It’s practically the oldest double cross in the book,” Julian stated firmly. There was only so much wallowing in self-pity he would put up with from Garak.

Garak ground his teeth together hard. Julian had put his finger on the crux of the matter. Garak should have known better. He should have been more vigilant. But Julian’s charade had been so convincing.

He was Elim Garak, son of Enabran Tain. He had been the most feared and respected agent in the Obsidian Order, Enabran’s heir, his chosen one. Now Tain had met Julian, had seen him. Tain was so cunning, always five steps ahead of any friend and tens steps ahead of any foe. His heart was frozen at the thought of Tain discovering his folly.

He could hear Tain in his mind, mocking him. Sneering his disdain at this most fundamental failure of a covert operative. Telling him that he was ashamed of him, how he should have killed his mother, rather than allow him to be born.

Garak closed his eyes, and willed his traitorous tears away, while he squeezed his hands tight, thankful for the darkness of the room.

“So, you were blinded by my hotness and superior skill at subterfuge, seriously it’s nothing to be ashamed off. I can assure you; you weren’t the first. Hell, you weren’t even the first Cardassian I have played,” Julian said, trying to bring Garak’s experience into perspective.

“So, because you were bored, you thought you would play with the poor lonely Cardassian, hmm?” Bitterness dripping from Garak’s voice.

Julian sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Garak, I wasn’t the one who was bored,” Julian said softly, with a gentle shake of his head. “Think back, didn’t you have fun spying on me? Wasn’t it thrilling the first time you were able to catch me communicating with Ben?”

Garak sucked in a breath, oh! He stilled as he remembered the satisfaction he felt when he first heard the recording of Julian and Ben speaking. He thought of the pain he was in when Tain first had his implant deactivated and the almost constant ache that was left in its place. Until Julian had turned up on the station that is.

Then he was full of plans and schemes on how to seduce the young doctor. The excitement of the chase.

Garak’s eyes drifted to the medallion innocently laying on the table. Julian had told him he was dangerous. He had told him he knew everything he needed to know about Garak. It seemed it was true from Julian’s point of view. But what did he truly know about Julian himself?

“Was any of it true?” Garak softly asked, all his anger drained from him. Nothing but lethargy left.

“Everything I told you was the truth,” Julian said equally softly, a gentle smile returning to his lips.

“Even the lies?” Garak said, leaning forward slightly in his chair.

Julian sent a blinding smile in Garak’s direction. “Especially the lies.”

Garak was startled by an unexpected huff of laughter escaping his mouth. It’s something he could imagine himself saying to Julian if he actually was just a lowly lieutenant in Star Fleet. He rubs his hands tiredly over his face.

“What happens to us now?” Garak asks curiously, looking at Julian from the shadows. He still felt the other man to be devilishly attractive. But his head was still spinning from his world being flipped inside out.

“We go on as before of course, but now on a more equal footing,” Julian said frankly.

Garak just stared at Julian in disbelief.

“It’s a relief really. I had expected you to work it out months ago, frankly,” Julian explained, apparently confident that Garak would just continue in his wake. “I hadn’t taken into account your terrible language skills,” Julian shook his head as if he was disappointed that Garak hadn’t learnt a whole made up language.

“Just like that,” Garak snapped his fingers in emphasis. “We continue with our lunches and our dates, as if nothing happened,” Garak enquired.

“Oh no,” Julian shook his head more vehemently this time. “I won’t make you watch quite so many terrible Earth movies from now on,” Julian laughed, eyes glittering in the dim light, happy now.

Julian could see how unhappy Garak looked in the gloomy light of the room.

“Garak, I meant it. Everything I told you was true. I do enjoy are time together. I enjoy our flirting and debates over literature,” Julian said sincerely. “I enjoy making love to you,” Julian smiled warmly at Garak.

“Of course, now you won’t be recording in my bed chamber, I won’t need to talk dirty to you anymore,” Julian laughed at this. He had always known that Garak detested dirty talk during sex. But Julian felt it was a justified punishment for recording in Julian’s quarters.

This startled at sharp staccato laugh from Garak. He hadn’t even suspected that. He really must be losing his touch out here on the station, in his exile.

Garak sighed at this glimmer of hope. The sad thing is Julian was right. What else did Garak have on this Station but his tailoring and Julian. He hung his head till his chin touched his chest.

“Next week,” He quietly told Julian. Needing time to get this new reality fixed in his head. Julian was the only person on this station that made his existence bearable.

“Next week,” Julian said, smile bright, with a touch of relief in his eyes.

Garak watched the other man turn and leave his quarters. He lent back in his chair and turned the heat lamp back on. He let the quiet settle over him. Just the distant hum of the station his only companion.

Breathing in the warm air, willing his body to relax and his mind to still.

He heard an alert come into his pad. His private encrypted pad. It had to be from Julian, proving again that there wasn’t anything he didn’t know about Garak.

He contemplated not looking at the message. But curiosity got the better of him. With a languid hand, he reached up and snagged his pad and listlessly drew it in to his lap. With barely any thought he opened the pad.

He had a new message from an unknown sender. His finger hovered over the open command. Decisively he hit open.

Immediately a picture of a young Cardassian man appeared on his screen. Garak frowned hard, the man looked familiar, but never in this setting. He studied the picture closely, the young man looked particularly constipated, a slight paler to his cheeks, slightly clammy, his blue eyes haunted. As if the horrors he had been witness to, could never be unseen.

Garak felt an uptick in his pulse. His own hands became clammy. ‘No, it can’t be! Can it?’ Garak’s breath was stalled in his chest as a dawning wonder crept over him.

It was Enabran Tain as Garak had never seen him.

His pad dinged with an alert.

NEW MESSAGE [Unknown sender]

‘If you ever wondered what Tain looked like after fifteen hours of Christmas Movies’

NEW MESSAGE [Unknown sender]

‘If I knew what a dick, he would turn into I would have made him watch fifteen hours of Hallmark Murder Mysteries. Then he would have known the true depths of hell.’

NEW MESSAGE [Unknown sender]

‘Oh Well! We all have those small regrets.’

NEW MESSAGE [Unknown sender]

‘Note: I didn’t make you watch fifteen hours of Hallmark movies.’

RETURN MESSAGE

‘You tried to make me read a forty-two book graphic novel series.’

NEW MESSAGE [Unknown sender]

‘I never said I wasn’t EVIL!’

Garak laughed out loud as a new giddy lightness ascended over him. It was like a supernova had exploded in his mind.

How? How had Julian done it? He thought he was only twenty-eight years old. He had gone to school with Doctor Li Wei. He had seen his transcripts, from his human school and from Star Fleet.

But from the image Julian had sent him and the messages. He was telling Garak it was him that Tain was observing all those years ago? Or was it?

Laughing in delight as he looked at the picture of his father as a young man, his head hurt thinking about Julian. It looked like Julian held more secrets than Garak could ever imagine. He was starting to feel excited at the prospect of discovering what these secrets might be.

Was it possible that Julian Bashir had bested the great Enabran Tain himself?

He couldn’t wait to find out. His earlier anguish almost forgotten in this moment of exuberance.

Chapter 19: Reconciliation

Chapter Text

Garak's Quarters

Garak laid in his bed looking at the ceiling, panting. He blinked his staring eyes, waiting for his mind to come back online. He blinked again. The only sound to be heard over the background of the station noise, was their heavy breathing.

Garak had seen stars.

He was annoyed at all that terrible Earth literature that had described such a state had turned out to be true.

He turned his head to look at his bed partner. Pleased at least that Julian looked flushed and rumpled. That he wasn’t the only one affected.

“It seems my dear doctor, you were holding out on me,” Garak managed to say with a degree of sardonic charm.

Julian just grinned at him demonically and then laughed, happiness, delight and simple ‘joie de vivre’, as Garak was learning to call it, clear on his face.

Still laughing Julian rolled towards Garak and flung his long arm over Garak’s chest and hugged him while placing a tender kiss below his ear.

“I was serious about the importance of consent in relationships,” Julian admitted, his grin pressed to the skin of Garak’s neck.

“So you made up for it with terrible sex?” Garak queried, a flare of his eye ridge to indicate his disbelief.

Julian just chuckled evilly again and gave Garak an extra squeeze of his arm.

“No, it didn’t seem right to go full throttle, when you didn’t know who you were actually dealing with,” Julian confessed in to the darkness of Garak’s warm bed chamber.

It had been four weeks since the confrontation with Julian. And this was the first time they had been intimate with each other.

In the preceding four weeks they had gone on Lunch and dinner dates. They had discussed literature and Earth culture as they had previously done for the past year. The only difference now was that Garak was almost certain that Julian’s professed opinions were solely expressed to infuriate him.

Julian's perpetual twinkle in his eye proved to be a source of both fascination and frustration for Garak. As someone of his mature years, he was accustomed to occupying the role of the mentor, it was disconcerting to find himself in the position of the junior partner when it came to knowledge and experience.

Yet, Garak couldn't deny the allure of Julian's youthful exuberance. In the past, he had always gravitated towards older, more seasoned partners, relishing in their depth of wisdom and expertise. The thrill of the more powerful admirer, showing interest in Garak, deeming him to be worthy of their attention.

It had been many years since he had last experienced that exact thrill of attraction. It was just disconcerting for that partner to now look like a twenty-eight year old ingénue, as Julian did.

The exact age of Julian remained a mystery to Garak, shrouded in ambiguity and veiled hints. Over the course of the past four weeks, Julian had subtly insinuated that he might be older than his Star Fleet file recorded. But Garak didn’t understand how that could be possible. One thing Garak was sure of now was that beneath his youthful facade lay a wealth of experience and cunning.

Indeed, Julian's adeptness at deception was a testament to his skill, effortlessly ensuring the entire station, Garak included, in the web of his hapless demeanour. As Garak pondered the enigma that was Julian, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was far more to him than initially met the eye.

The only person that seemed to be immune from Julian’s act was that one Star Fleet ensign. Garak was almost sure that this was down to her personal prejudice, rather than actual skill at observation.

His personality remained a quandary, he was convinced that Julian was sincere in his apparent nervousness in certain situations. Garak was confident that the other man was genuinely worried about his first wormhole transit. There was also his abundant anxious energy when Ben, the Remnant prime was visiting the station.

Yet, perhaps the most perplexing aspect of Julian remained the mystery surrounding the image of a young Enabran Tain. Ever since Julian had shared that picture of his father, Garak found himself torn between curiosity and apprehension. Delving into Tain's identity could unravel truths Garak might not be ready to confront, yet the allure of understanding Julian's enigmatic past tugged at his curiosity.

For now, Garak grappled with conflicting emotions, uncertain whether he truly desired to unearth the secrets hidden behind Julian's facade. As he navigated the complexities of their evolving relationship, he couldn't shake the feeling that investigating Julian's mysteries would lead him down a path fraught with uncertainty and revelation.

Garak just shook his head and looked curiously at Julian; he just couldn't make him out. Well, he always loved a puzzle, and Julian was turning into the most delightful riddle he had ever seen.

Garak turned his head and looked at Julian, his long delicate fingers were tracing the crest on his chest, gently humming to himself. Thinking back to Julian’s apathy towards Erik, the older Remnant who had visited the station all those months ago. Julian at the time had admitted that his anger towards the man was due to his lack of deference to the Remnant hierarchy.

At the time he had put this down to a lack of respect to Ben, the Remnant Prime, the de facto leader of the Remnant society. But now he wondered if it was more personal. That Erik hadn’t shown enough respect to Julian’s position in their society.

“How do Remnants recognise their position in your social hierarchy?” Garak said, not really expecting a straight answer from Julian.

“Oh, we can sense it,” Julian replied nonchalantly.

Garak was still appalled at the ease Julian gave information away, even if he did know Garak more intimately that he had first assumed.

“And you are higher in this hierarchy than are erstwhile friend Erik?”

Garak felt Julian’s expression change, where his face was resting on his shoulder. He was probably scowling.

“Oh yes,” Julian said firmly, before propping himself up on his elbow so he could grin down triumphantly at Garak. “Don’t worry, I put him in his place before they left the sector,” still grinning, Julian lent down and place a kiss on Garak’s lips.

Curiosity got the better of Garak. “How do you sense it?”

Julian shifted beside him, Garak brought his arm up and snuggled him closer.

“It’s difficult to explain,” Julian’s finger rhythmically stroked neck ridges, before turning his head and kissing the closest piece of Garak, he could reach. “You know how most species have a nervous system that facilitates the flow of electrons from the sense organ to the brain for sensor processing,” Julian said.

“Yes.”

“I can sense that electrical activity,” Julian continued. “Though not exactly, it’s more of an analogy,” Julian sighed. It was always difficult to explain this to mortals. If Garak was a quantum physicist, he might have attempted it. But this analogy was good enough for lay people.

Suddenly Garak was worried. “Are you telepaths,” Garak said in alarm, turning his head so that he could see Julian’s face.

Julian chuckled, “not at all, thank goodness.” Julian tilted his face towards Garak’s. “It’s more like echo location. Like Earth whales have, except we don’t use sound waves,” Julian frowned, hoping Garak would get the gist of it.

“So the location of other Remnants?” Garak tentatively said. He was starting to feel concerned again with how much information Julian was freely sharing. It had started to dawn on Garak, that since he had found out how skilful Julian was at data gathering, that Julian didn’t see him as a threat. It was occurring to him, that he probably should be fearful about Julian’s supreme confidence.

“Yeah, sort of,” Julian agreed as he settled comfortably against Garak again. “I mean, we were designed as super soldiers. It’s beneficial to know where everyone is and what their capabilities are during a battle,” Julian finished simply.

Garak’s heart thudded in his chest, he knew Julian, skilled doctor that he was would notice the change. Yet he couldn’t calm himself quick enough. Julian had just given him vital information about Remnants. This capability was something he hadn’t heard before. He swallowed, willing himself to get his pulse rate under control.

“What’s wrong?” Julian said, pushing himself up to look at Garak. He felt the shift in Garak’s heart rate and the tell-tell colour change in his neck ridges. He was on high alert. He swung his gaze around the room, tracking for any change in the environment that might have upset Garak. Detecting no changes, he looked back at Garak and deducted that it must have been his words that up set Garak.

“Don’t worry, I can’t track you, everyone else is like a background hum,” Julian said going for the most obvious worry a paranoid species like Cardassian’s would be concerned about. “I would have to do my version of a scan of you to be able to pick you out from the crowd, and you would be able to feel it, if any Remnant scanned you in fact,” Julian explained with a smile, hoping this would set Garak’s mind at rest.

Garak just grimaced, this is even worse, he keeps telling him more and more details. Closing his eyes, he was surprised he would have to explain something so obvious after the skill Julian showed in deceiving Garak so easily.

“My dear. I know you have demonstrated that you know me very well,” Garak sighed at the broad grin Julian sent in his direction. “But I am a Cardassian, I love Cardassia,” Garak said with simple honesty, willing Julian to see the truth of his words. “I will serve Cardassia how ever she demands it, even if I have to betray your secrets to do it.” Garak searched Julian’s face hoping to see understanding there.

Julian through back his head and laughed. “Oh, Garak, I trust you,” Julian said with a soft expression, before swooping in and planting a thorough kiss on Garak’s mouth.

“That’s all very well my dear,” Garak said a bit breathlessly, “but trust is a fragile thing and can easily be broken,” he said seriously to his lover.

“I do trust you, even after agent Liora Vren had dosed you, and something went wrong with your deactivated implant. You didn’t succumb to Tain’s demands that you hand over your Remnant data then,” Julian explained with a soft smile as he gently held the side of Garak’s face, eyes totally trusting.

Hearing agent Vren’s name startled Garak. Julian had penetrated his security further than he had first estimated. “So, you did bug me then?” Garak said. After the medallion revelation, Garak had torn his quarters apart, trying to find any bugs that Julian might have planted. He hadn’t found any and reluctantly came to the conclusion that the Remnant tech must be superior to Cardassian’s.

“Really, Garak, no, of course I didn’t bug you,” Julian shook his head as if he can’t believe Garak would say such a foolish thing.

Garak looked at Julian, not quite knowing whether to take his word or not. To Garak’s detriment he had discovered that technically everything Julian said was true, in context. The difficulty was figuring out the context Julian was referring to.

“No, I have bugged Tain,” Julian said with a grin and a sparkle in his eye, as he had told him a great joke and expected Garak to join in on the laugh.

Garak scoffed and rolled his eyes at such an outrageous lie. No one could get the better of Tain.

“Hey!” Julian said sounding offended at Garak’s dismissal.

Garak looked at Julian and with dawning horror, he realised that Julian was completely serious. His blood ran cold, and Garak’s heart started a drum chorus in his chest. He could hardly believe what Julian had just told him.

“My ancestors are you crazy! Do you have a death wish,” Garak jumped out naked from his bed in his panic.

Has Tain discovered Julian’s bug yet. He felt a stabbing pain in his chest. Was he having a heart attack, as black spots floated in front of his eyes. Has Tain discovered Julian’s treachery and has poisoned them?

Julian sat up in alarm at the spiralling Garak. He could recognise a panic attack when he saw one. He hadn’t expected his revelation to have this effect on Garak.

Standing naked from the bed, he approached Garak, arms out stretched. “Garak, listen to me, you are having a panic attack, ok,” Julian calmly explained. Reaching Garak, he took him by the upper arms. “Just sit down here at the edge of the bed, yes that’s it. Now lean forward and rest your head on your hands,” Julian instructed as he gently rubbed Garak’s back.

“Now we are going to start breathing in sync,” Julian said. He then led Garak through the breathing exercise until Garak’s own breathing had returned to normal.

“Now are you feeling better?” Julian said, still rubbing soothing circles on Garak’s naked back. He could feel a chill setting in through Garak’s cold and clammy skin.

“Come back to bed before you freeze,” instructed Julian kindly, as he guided the other man back to their warm bed. Julian settled Garak under his warm blankets and climbed in after him. He cuddled up close to the chilled Cardassian, knowing his own body temperature would be the safest way to warm Garak back up to a healthy body temperature for a Cardassian.

Julian stroked Garak’s silky dark hair, while he watched Garak’s blank eyes as he stared vacantly up at the ceiling. Julian realised he had really freaked Garak out. He should have appreciated what a deep seated fear Tain had instilled in Garak since he was a young child. Julian gritted his teeth and swore that the moment he saw Tain at his lowest point he was going to give him the hardest kick of his life.

Julian knew the exact soft underbelly of Tain’s psychology to aim for, even if Garak couldn’t believe his father had such a weakness.

Julian started whispering to Garak, explaining about the time he met Agent Jorik Varn when he had been working at QTII. Julian described how agent Varn thought he had seduced Julian, so that he could steal classified secrets from him. How Julian had set Varn up to steal a virus infected schematic of a cloaking device Julian and his fellow scientists had been working on.

Garak blinked.

Julian told Garak how Varn had introduced him to the classic, ‘Never Ending Sacrifice’, and in revenge Julian had introduced Varn to Hallmark movies. Here Julian stopped to have a good laugh as he described in minute detail the look of horror on Varn’s face as he pretended to enjoy the movies.

At least Garak hadn’t been that foolish with Julian, he told him, as he kissed Garak’s cheek. Or he might have forced Garak to watch them too.

At last Garak turned his face to look at Julian, frowning. “So, you bugged Tain sixty years ago, I thought you were only twenty-eight?” Garak said softly.

“Am I?” Julian said with an innocent widening of the eyes and a lift of the brows. A secret barely there smile about his lips.

Julian’s expression then changed after a moment when Garak didn’t comment or smile at him. He gave Garak a frown in return. “I thought you would be freaked out that I f*cked your dad,”

Garak thought he might be sick in his mouth at the words. “I can only freak out at one thing at a time,” Garak said holding up a finger, to stall any more words from Julian. He will come back to Julian being twenty-eight later.

Julian silently nodded, wide eyed.

“I don’t quite understand how you letting Tain steal some schematics from you sixty years ago, allows you to look at Tain’s computer today,” Garak said with a deep frown as he tried working at the logic.

Julian just looked at Garak as he worked through the problem.

“I mean, Tain has probably gone through at least twenty computers since then,” Garak said out loud. He could feel his pulse quicken and he felt a cold chill go through his body, as the only possible solution was banging at his mind for attention.

Garak didn’t want to voice his suspicion because it was so terrible.

“Easy now Garak, keep calm,” Julian gently warned, eyes worried. The evening was not going as Julian expected it to when Garak first invited him back to his quarters.

‘Keep calm!’ Garak bleakly thought, as he felt his universe shift again. As he stared at Julian’s calm beautiful face, the source of all his turmoil. He didn’t know how many more revelations he could take.

“The only way you could still access his computer now, is if the original virus infected the Obsidian Order database. It had to remain undetected for all these years and what! Mutate somehow into the underlying operating system itself?” Garak surmised. His head was spinning.

That had to be it, right? Garak thought looking hopefully at Julian to deny or confirm his supposition. The skill level required to be able to do that was out of the realm of what Garak had thought possible. That was Garak’s own speciality, cyber espionage. He could only dream to be able to pull something like that off. Imagine if he could have infected the Romulan’s Tal Shiar organisation. He was letting his imagination run wild.

And it was Tain, the great Enabran Tain himself, who had let them in, played thoroughly by Julian.

Julian who was looking a tad too innocent, as he lay naked in his bed.

Garak frowned, what had he missed. He looked at Julian carefully, who was just calmly looking back at him.

Garak sat up in bed and turned to look Julian fully in the face. “You’re in everywhere in the Cardassian Data Network, Central Command, The Government.”

Garak brought his hands up to his mouth, “f*ck!”

“Now Garak, remain calm,” Julian said, patting his knee. “You need to look on the bright side of this,” Julian pleaded.

“YOU!” Garak shouted. “You personally have single handedly perpetrated the greatest security breach in the entire history of the Cardassian Empire,” Garak hissed. Even if he told them, what could they do about it? If the Remnants are that good at infiltrating computer systems that they have embedded ancestors knows what into the operating systems themselves. Or the system architecture even. There was no way they could repair that. They would have to start from scratch, could they?

“How is there a bright side,” Garak demanded, all the lightness and fun from their earlier lovemaking was demolished at this earth shattering revelation.

Garak was also coming to the rapid conclusion that the Federation weren’t paranoid enough when it came to Remnants. What had Julian said when he was first getting to know him. Oh yeah! ‘that he was the most dangerous person on the station,’ well f*ck, looks like he was right.

Julian quirks an eyebrow at him, “at least you weren’t the f*cking moron who facilitated the greatest security breach in the entire history of the Cardassian Empire.”

Garak let out a startled laugh as he looked at Julian’s grinning face.

Tain, the man he had feared the most for the entirety of his life. The man he could never impress or measure up to, was the f*cking moron who allowed the greatest security breach in the entire history of the Cardassian Empire.

Garak flopped back in to the bed and laughed and laughed, slightly hysterical he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

In his hysteria, he did realise, he couldn’t tell anyone what Julian had done. It would be a blood bath if Tain or the Military found out. They would kill anyone to cover this galactic faux pas up, including Garak and possible Julian. Though he doubted Julian would stay dead if they caught up with him. Hell, he had no idea what insane thing Julian would do.

He looked at Julian, who was looking back at him worriedly.

Julian was concerned at Garak’s reaction, he had thought that Garak would marvel at his cunning and cleverness. Not the panic attacks and hysteria he was showing. “Erm, you’re not reacting how I expected you to,” Julian said his puzzlement clear.

“You’ve always extolled the pragmatism required in covert surveillance and the importance of knowing your enemies,” a deep frown across Julian’s face as he tried to understand Garak’s reaction. “Know the main players, Cardassian’s are one of the main players in this quadrant of the Galaxy,” Julian pointed out in a reasonable tone, a slight pout to his lips.

Garak turned his face into his pillow and screamed. Once he felt he had gotten control of his faculties he turned to look at Julian. Other than the worry he showed for Garak, he was completely at ease. It struck Garak that Julian’s relaxed demeanour around him, was truly because he didn’t see him as a threat.

“You really don’t see me as a threat,” Garak said. He reached out and ran his fingers through Julian’s hair.

“No, of course not, I really am the most dangerous person on the station,” Julian said smiling, taking this total change in topic in his stride.

“Of course you are,” Garak said softly. Though he was no longer sure, how Julian meant it. He was obviously skilled in covert operations. Had he ever killed a man? Best not ask for details. Julian might tell him, sometimes ignorance was bliss.

Garak looked at Julian, who was laying relaxed in his arms, looking as guileless as the first day he saw him. A complete puzzle.

Over the four weeks of dates, Garak had expected Julian to show a new side of his personality, to drop the personae of the enthusiastic doctor, in private at least. But Julian barely changed at all.

He still met Garak, telling him of all the exciting Holo-programs he and O’Brien were playing. Sharing the parts of his and Nerys’s theological discussions, he thought were interesting. Maintaining his insistence that the ‘Never Ending Sacrifice,' was boring.

Complained bitterly at Dax’s slights, though Garak now suspected that the Trill officer annoyed Julian for an entirely different reason, than the casual bias she showed towards him.

Raged at the injustice and hypocrisy that the Federation displayed in their prejudice against all augmented people and not just Remnants.

Yet Garak sensed an underlying current of excitement in his dealings with Julian now. He was not completely blind to his own psyche. Julian had been correct in his assessment that boredom was his greatest weakness, that Julian so easily exploited.

But he was also correct that in the last sixteen months off knowing the Remnant, had been a thrilling mix of new discoveries and the persistent needling of his conscience for taking advantage of an innocent, he scoffed at the thought now, as he lay in bed with his very own trickster.

Julian who was laying beside him, gently running his fingers over the various ridges and scales of his body. Not saying anything, allowing Garak his own thoughts.

It was flattering to gain the attention of such a dangerous creature as Julian. To hold that attention. To see Julian’s glittering eyes and know that he was sharing the joke with Garak, inviting him to laugh with him, not at him.

He hadn’t experienced such a feeling since those early days of his relationship with Pallendine. When he had been lowly Loebek 10 and she was so high above him. The secret thrill to have someone such as her attention on him. He relished it.

Now here was Julian, who out classed Pallendine with ease. His attention was a heady feeling.

But Garak hadn’t lost all his wits in the throes of lust (who was he kidding), he wanted to have a feel of just how much danger he was in.

“How dangerous would you say you are? On a scale of one to ten, where one is making a baby cry and ten is universal domination, with a billion shattered souls in your wake,” Garak said softly, his fingers absently twisted about Julian’s curly hair.

Julian turned to look at him, “so on a logarithmic scale then.”

Julian watched Garak carefully, if he wanted a real relationship, an equal relationship with Garak, he needed to know who Julian was. This was as good a shorthand as any other. Julian was old. It was impossible to distil a life that long in to a couple of sentences.

“It’s hard to gauge on such a subjective scale. Maybe 7.75!” Julian answered, trying to be as accurate as possible. “But I am only one person. There are ideas that have done more damage than I could ever inflict on the Universe,” Julian clarified trying to be honest.

“Yes, yes. Religion and political ideology have the power to decimate any civilisation,” Garak acknowledge the flaw in his original question. “I take it when you where rooting around in Tain’s computer that you read my file?”

Julian just nodded cautiously.

“So on the same scale, how dangerous would you say I am?” Garak said with a tilt of his head, watching Julian.

Julian winced slightly and sighed. “Maybe a 4,” Julian said apoplectically. Resting his long fingered hand over Garak’s heart.

“Aah!”

Taking Julian’s hand where it rested he brought it up to his lips and kissed it and just held it.

Very dangerous indeed.

Garak laid back in his pillows, using his hold on Julian’s hand to encourage the Remnant to cuddle close into his side. Using his other hand he gently stroked Julian’s deliciously warm back.

“So, you’ve had sex with Tain?” Garak regretted the question as soon as he said it, but on the other hand he needed to know.

“He was a hottie when he was young,” Julian grinned into Garak’s neck. “You saw his picture.”

Garak groaned as if in pain.

Julian laughed at his reaction.

Julian turned to face Garak, eyes sparkling in mirth. “I assure you he didn’t enjoy a single second of it,” Julian said delightedly. “I couldn’t reward him for trying to steal Federation secrets now, could I.”

“Perish the thought,” Garak said dryly, with a slight shake of his head.

“He never deserved the Julian special either,” Julian added with a salacious wink at Garak, followed by a breath-taking kiss.

“Well, that’s something at least,” Garak says weakly, as Julian gets comfortable by his side again.

Julian pulls up the quilt to cover their shoulders, he gently sighs and hopes that Garak is satisfied for now about Julian’s past. He gives Garak a gentle squeeze and prepares to sleep.

Garak remains awake as he senses Julian drifting off to sleep, tucked in beside him. Some of his questions have been answered but a multitude of unspoken queries linger in the night air. But Garak is willing to let them go for now, unsure of how deeply he should explore the mysteries veiled behind his most dangerous of bed partner.

Conflicted emotions churn within Garak's chest as he contemplates Julian and the intricate web of feelings he elicits. While he finds solace in the knowledge that he is not leading an innocent astray, a new apprehension gnaws at his consciousness—the fear of how Julian may, in turn, influence him and his allegiance to Cardassia. Nestled in the warmth of their shared bed, Garak ponders what revelations, both profound and perilous, Julian will unveil in the days to come.