There was a slight jolt as the transport ship docked, sliding smoothly into place with the space station. They'd been waiting for an opportunity to dock for the last twenty minutes, which was a very short period of time when docking at a Federation outpost. People came and went from the station, but not in huge numbers. Just enough to cause a bit of a bustle.
Inside the passenger containment area of the docking ship, there sat a man with dark, curly hair fidgeting nervously with his sleeve, a headache pounded against his right temple as the people around him cast uncertain looks his way. He just looked like the sort of guy you had to keep an eye on or he might do something a little weird.
Will Graham rubbed a hand over his face and tried to focus himself on something other than his own discomfort without much success. Too many distractions. He hated traveling, it made him sick. Not sick in the common sense of motion sickness, it was the people who made him sick. And also not in the usual medical way either.
He just didn't do well being stuffed into a room with so many people sitting so close to him. They were just so loud, or at least they were loud to him. In their seats, the other occupants of the ship chatted lowly, which was annoying on some level, but not truly bothersome, it was their minds that were the trouble. People were always going off on their rambling trains of thought. On and on and on. It made Will want to jab something deep into his ears and destroy his ear drums, but the sound was in his brain, not his ears so that wouldn't really do him much good anyway.
He was a very special man, Will Graham, or so he was told. And he had been told this by a wide variety of doctors. A lot of people were interested in him anyway. They wanted to take him apart and see how he worked, they wanted to disassemble him and rebuild him again. He'd rather prefer to remain in one piece if at all possible.
Born to a Betazoid mother and human father on the Betazoid home world, Will had out shown all the other children with his empathic abilities. These abilities manifested before he could even speak, or so he had been told, it wasn't like he could remember. His parents were thrilled with the prospect of an exceptional child. Most betazoid children did not develop any abilities at all until they were at least seven and almost never with the depth that Will had displayed.
It was rare for a betazoid to develop abilities like that of Will's, rarer still for a half-human. The average empathic range went from nothing to mild impressions and being very attuned to others. There were a number who could sense actual emotion from other people, and an even smaller number who could directly read minds. What Will was able to do went even deeper than that. He could sense the full scope of another person's mind, flick through memories like a filing cabinet, become completely absorbed in it. It was absolutely incredible from a scientific perspective. And so everyone wanted to know what made him tick.
The initial excitement on the behalf of Will's ability was rather short lived. The minds of others had a heavy effect on his own mind and it could be a bit uncomfortable to have a child reading your every thought. The betazoid culture embraced honesty to a high extent given that it was nearly impossible to hide your thoughts from an empath, but even then, some found it rather annoying to have a child wandering around sifting through their minds with such detail. Will was not very fond of it either, he couldn't shut out the voices. They were a constant pressure in his head, they brought on horrible migraines and a sickly childhood. He would be bedridden after something as simple as going out for a walk in the neighborhood. Some days even just the mind of his father was too much and he would become violently ill. His mother had left somewhere around this time, Will couldn't remember her at all.
As a child, Will had always looked like he was going to fall to pieces. Skinny from the lessened appetite, pale from the lack of sunlight, bags under his eyes because he couldn't sleep, dark curls that never settled the same way twice, and those glistening, black, Betazoid eyes that marked him for who he was.
He wasn't able to attend school when he was old enough to go, he had to be taught at home by computer. His dad was at his wits end. Finally, when Will was seven he was sent away to be treated in a proper medical facility.
He took medication now, they'd come up with it at the hospital he was sent to. It had taken six years to be developed and it was far from a cure. Side effects sometimes plagued him, mostly in the form of visual and auditory hallucinations, and he still got migraines, but the medicine dulled Will's ability to understand the thoughts that zoomed through the minds around him. It made them a steady stream instead of a gushing waterfall, but sometimes he still felt like he was drowning.
He felt like he was drowning in this moment as he sat twitching in his seat on the transport ship, preparing himself for the potential what lay in front of him. The fact that he'd accidentally packed his medication into a portion of his luggage he couldn't reach didn't help the situation. He could feel the effects of the last injection slipping gradually. It wasn't a big problem, he'd be on the station soon anyway.
He had taken a job on this station. He wasn't sure that was wise. He had the experience needed, but the environment was different. The station was on the edge of of the bajoran-cardassian border. Technically, it was in the neutral zone, though it was closer to the bajoran side. It was a Federation station after all and the bajorans were more likely to work with a Federation presence than the cardassians.
The war between the two planets had only ended in the last few years, but hostilities were still high. Somewhere around ten million bajorans had died after all and they were not likely to forget the cruelty of the cardassian occupation anytime soon. The planet was only in the beginning stages of recovery.
The station was isolated on the edge of the known universe, but there was a stream of cargo ships and traders that came through. Will had only ever worked on small starships like the ones he saw flying by. They were temporary homes on short missions. This station was new, he would have to see where it went.
His function on board the station would be as a sort of advisor or rather a tool of measurement to gage the interest of anyone who crossed the station. This sort of thing was not unusual, many starships employed Betazoids for these sorts of jobs, but none of them were so talented as Will, none of them did the job as well. In such an explosive sector of the galaxy, the Federation needed all the help it could get.
The doors slid open and people began to stand. Will stood with them, although his head swam and he felt an unpleasant roll of nausea. He gathered his things more quickly than most, he didn't have many material objects. He did have a dog though, a dog named Winston who he refused to part with, who was in the back with a majority of the luggage.
Will shambled out of the ship and onto the station where he waited to retrieve Winston, who shuffled drowsily out of the back compartment on a leash, and walked among the crowd of people into the depths of the station.
Will jolted when a hand touched his shoulder.
"William Graham?" a female voice asked.
Will turned to see a dark haired Bajoran woman at his side, complete with the normal ridged nose and religious ear piercing typical of her species. The piercing linked the piercing at the bottom of the ear lobe with a piercing at the top with a tiny chain on the left ear, it was a symbol of faith in the Profits. Most bajorans held a strong faith in their Profit gods, it was one of the things that kept them all united. It was a rather strange religion when taken into account that their gods were real and the federation had taken to calling them Wormhole Aliens. Strange non-corporeal entities that lived outside another Federation station. But whatever keep them together along with their hatred of the cardassians.
"Will," the empath responded numbly trying to ignore the woman's thoughts while his medication was thin in his blood. Bajorans were easy to read, even easier than humans, not quite as easy as other betazoids. He'd heard it said that betazoids were the emotional sluts of the Galaxy.
He wasn't what she was expecting, not that she had been expecting much. Just not him. Overwhelmed and twitchy and exhausted. He was underwhelming and unimpressive.
She smiled anyway. "Will," she repeated back, "I'm-"
"Major Alana Bloom, first officer, here to welcome me aboard," Will finished for her as he gave a thin smile. He didn't mean to say it, sometimes things just came out of his mouth without filter.
"Yes." She didn't appear ruffled by his interjection, although Will felt the spark of annoyance that she experienced. People tended to get that way around him, he wasn't so good with the people. His betazoid roots encouraged openness, other cultures encouraged privacy. He tended to fumble and neglect that while he talked with people.
"Welcome to Deep Space H-3," she continued, "The captain wanted to come meet with you, but he's dealing with a situation at the moment, so I'll just be showing you to your quarters. He will see you at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow." As she spoke, Winston walked up and began sniffing at her feet. She gave the dog a sideways look.
"What is this?" she asked, leaning down to scratch Winston's ear.
"It's a dog, I picked him up on earth. They are the most common domesticated animal there." Will explained as he watched Alana pet his dog. She obviously enjoyed the creature and that was the moment that Will decided that he enjoyed her as well.
"Well, I wish we had creatures like these on Bajor," she smiled, standing up ready to take him to his quarters.
Will nodded with a smile on his lips, "Lead the way then."
The trip to his quarters was short, they passed the the loading dock, and a series of halls to get to the civilian block. It would not take long for Will to know his way around. Major Bloom pointed out various aspects of the station as they went along. People moved about around them. Will observed quietly as they walked, his boots making sharp sounds agains the solid, gray flooring.
"Here we are," Alana stopped in front of the door and let Will walk in. It was small, but larger than any of the quarters he'd ever had on the previous ships he'd worked on. There was a kitchen area with a replicator, a small living area, a bathroom, and a bedroom off in another room.
Will kneeled down and unclipped the leash from Winston's collar. The dog immediately jumped up onto the couch and laid down.
Alana hummed in amusement.
"They're fine thank you." Will smiled at her awkwardly.
"What?" She seemed confused, she hadn't asked her question yet. Sometimes he forgot to wait. He needed his medication.
"The quarters," he clarified, "they're fine."
She gave him a strange look, but tried not to seem too startled. "Yes, well I'm very glad of that. Don't feel the need to be shut away in here all night, explore a little. The station isn't huge, but there is still a lot to see."
"Thank you, I'll do that." He wouldn't. He would take his medicine and go to bed, his head felt like it was full of angry ants.
"Well, it was very nice to meet you, Will," Alana gave him a nice smile and Will did his very best to smile back.
"You too."
And she was gone, off to her station. They shouldn't have made the effort sending her, she could have been doing something far more productive than making awkward introductions. She didn't appear too terribly bothered by this, but the notion had occurred to her.
The half-betazoid stood in place a moment longer, rubbing his hands over his tired eyes before he made the effort to look for his medication. It was exactly where he'd left it, he was very glad to see. He had hypospray and pill versions. He chose to go for a pill, as he usually did. The hypos were mostly for emergencies.
After taking the medicine some of the stress melted off, but not all of it. Never all of it. Will wandered over to his new bed and collapsed into it. The fabric was soft and warm. His eyes ached, but he couldn't sleep, his brain was turning too fast and he couldn't make it stop. Usually, he would pace around his room when he couldn't sleep, but at this time he was too tired to get up. And besides, this base was large enough that he could wander the halls when he couldn't sleep and nearly no one would notice.
XxxX
Will woke with his chest heaving, covered in sweat, desperately trying to escape the sticky blackness of his dreams. He couldn't remember falling asleep, he was still in his bed. He'd always been prone to nightmares, given his ability, the content of his dreams were heightened to a far more graphic level. People often thought about doing truly terrible things. Some had painfully vivid imaginations.
He chanced a look at his clock, three hours until he had to be up. Part of him wanted to escape this small apartment and go out wandering the halls, but he didn't feel confident in his ability to find his way back just yet. Not worth the hassle. So, instead he just laid back petting Winston and trying not to think until his alarm went off and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound.
He replicated himself a small breakfast and only ate half of it. He was never one for a large apatite and replicator food had a rather bland taste to it, or so he was told. He'd grown up on the stuff so he couldn't really tell if it was bad anymore.
He took his medicine and shuffled out the door to meet the captain of this vessel. Alana had sent him a message on his PADD that he should report to the operations room. Ops, as it was affectionately known. Will quite liked his PADD, the Federation offered a far better quality device than was publicly available. The PADD was a sleek back tablet, it had a wider screen than Will was used to but that was alright. He'd accidentally destroyed his last PADD when he'd apparently got out sleepwalking and hurled it at a wall. Hopefully that wouldn't be happening again.
Will walked across the small promenade, passing a series of shops and restaurants. There were quite a few people up and about surprisingly enough. The place had a nice atmosphere or at least it probably did. Will had a difficult time judging those sorts of things, he was too influenced by external thoughts to make up his own mind.
It turned out that Will didn't actually have to report to ops, the Captain was waiting for him outside the door.
"Ah, Will Graham," Captain Crawford said upon seeing Will's approach, "Welcome to Deep Space H-3, everything good so far?"
Will nodded, silently. He didn't do well around klingons, not that Jack Crawford was fully jlingon, he was half-human, which made things worse. The aggression of the klingon mind exhausted him and would often push him to make rather rash decisions. There had been one time where a klingon diplomat had said he wouldn't deal unless they cut out Will's tongue—he'd been offended by Will reading his mind—and Will had taken it upon himself to attempt to follow the klingon's wishes. He'd cut a quarter of the way through his tongue with his dinner knife when someone had stunned him with a phaser and dragged him off to the infirmary. There was no lasting damage. The klingon had been so amused that he signed a good deal. Another job well done by William Graham.
With human qualities, the anger was likely to be marginally less in Jack, but the mental output would be greater.
"Good," the half-klingon nodded, "I would like to introduce you to Doctor Hannibal Lecter," Jack gestured to the side and a cardassian man stepped forward.
Will blinked, he hadn't noticed this man. That was very strange. He couldn't get a reading on him either, it was like there was a blank space where his mind should be. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, he could feel that there was someone there, but not in the usual way.
Cardassians were always a little tricky to read, most of them went through a sort of telepathic protection training as children and he often had to actually focus to hear their thoughts through the muddle, but he'd never met a cardassian he couldn't read at all. Not that he'd met very many cardassians, he hadn't been to this sector very often and first contact with the cardassians had only been made a few years ago.
It was also rather odd that a cardassian was there on the station in the first place. Sure, there were a few cardassians aboard, but there were far more bajorans and they didn't like the scaly bastards hanging around very much.
This man was tall and well built. He dressed in formal clothes, though not Federation standard. His eyes looked set back in his head thanks to the scaly ridged around his eyes. His black hair was slicked back in the normal cardassian manner and the spoon shaped divot in his forehead marked his for his heritage. Your classic cardassian citizen, properly dressed up and ready to impress with all that oily charm he probably had. His lips were quirked up, presumably at Will's puzzled expression.
"During the war I was privy to delicate information, it wouldn't do to have empath such as yourself prying at what I know." He spoke with an accent. Like he had decided to learn the standard language rather than use the universal translator.
Will frowned at that. He was glad to have one less mind to deal with, but the implications that came with cardassians and during the war were not pleasant. Often it meant the death of many bajorans.
"I was an informant for the Federation," Hannibal assured, sensing Will's unease. It was rather peculiar for someone to guess at his thoughts rather than the other way around.
"I want you to report to Doctor Lecter for the duration of your stay here." Jack said, unnecessary. Will knew what he wanted.
"I've never had to have a doctor babysit me before," the words came out with more mocking than he had intended. His eyes skirted across the doctor's fine suit, unable to look up to his eyes.
"You've never worked with the Federation before," Jack pointed out, the way he said it made it sound like a threat somehow, "You knew this was coming." He did.
"I'm assuming this will not be for my physical health then?" Will scoffed and looked to the cardassian doctor, eyebrow raised.
"Only if you require such treatment," Doctor Lecter smiled easily, "I am the station's head doctor, I just happen to have the background in mental health as well."
"You want me to see a shrink." Will sighed, deciding not to mention the strangeness of a cardassian doctor on a mostly bajoran station. There were some bajorans out there who would rather bleed to death than be treated by a cardassian.
Hannibal smiled, "They will not have to be formal therapy sessions, think of them more as conversations." The upturn of his lips did not waver from that calm face.
"Conversations about whether or not I'm losing my mind," Will grumbled.
"I don't want to listen to anymore of this, you're going and that's my final word." The irritation was leaking off of Jack and sinking into Will, making him flinch. His mouth snapped shut.
"Alright then," Jack seemed pleased at the lack of argument. "We don't need you now, but if you like I can introduce you to the crew."
"No." The answer was blunt. Will did not want to be the focus of attention. Better to meet them when they were distracted with work.
Jack nodded, slightly put off, but not enough to argue. "That will be all then, you are dismissed but, Will, you will be meeting with Doctor Lecter at seventeen hundred hours."
Will decided it was probably in his best interest to keep thoughts on that to himself and so answered: "Very well." Instead of saying that he'd rather be sucked out an airlock than let someone poke at his brain.
"I will see you then," Doctor Lecter said pleasantly as Will nodded a final time. Immediately following that, Will turned on his heels and started down the hallway, he could feel the eyes of Jack and Doctor Lecter following him. They would be talking about him as soon as he was out of earshot, he knew. Slightly annoying but then again, that's what most people tended to do around him.
From there, William had a whole day with nothing to do. So, he wandered around the station until it was time for him to eat his lunch at such point he stopped in one of the restaurants. He was feeling rather bored and while he did not like being around people, he thought he'd give it a chance. The place was half filled. There was an array of tables and a bar at the far end of the room. Will took a seat at a table as a bajoran boy took his order.
As he waited for his food to arrive a woman approached him. She was an orion, her hair was a mess of long coppery curls and her skin was the color of emerald. She immediately set Will's teeth on edge.
"You're a face I haven't seen before," the woman said, taking a seat at his table without asking. Rude.
Orion woman let off incredibly strong pheromones that tended to render males incapable of resisting their will. This one was trying to subtly get something out of him. Her mind was fuzzy, orion woman were hard to read, males were easy.
"What do you want?" Will demanded impatiently, attempting to lessen his breathing. She was infecting the air and by extension his brain. He disliked being manipulated, as most people did.
"I just want to get to know you a little bit. I like to know what's going on around the station," she purred, "So tell me, what brought you here?"
"I was hungry," Will grimaced, he was considering just ditching this place altogether. Food or no.
"I meant to this station," the woman kept a patient smile on her face that wrung of insincerity.
"Work."
"Ah, so you're Will Graham then," her smile grew into something more real with more teeth, "It's a pleasure to meet you. Freddie Lounds." She held out a hand in the typical Human method of greeting.
Will retracted his hands, even though they had been no where near hers. "I'd rather you left me alone."
The woman paused for a moment, Will could feel the gears in her mind turning as she made a choice. "Very well, mister Graham, I hope that we can become good friends. And because I want us to be friends I feel I should warn you." She paused, waiting for him to ask what she wanted to warn him about.
"What?" he breathed, not really wanting to play along, but compelled by the pheromones.
"This station is haunted," Freddie Lounds grinned.
He gave her a puzzled look. That hadn't been what he was expecting her to say.
"People go missing all the time. No one knows what happens to them. Surly, you've heard the rumors." Miss Lounds quirked an eyebrow.
"No, I don't pay attention to those sorts of things." He hadn't been on the station long enough to hear such rumors.
"Well, now you know and you'd better watch your back," she said seriously.
He couldn't help but feel she had mentioned this for a reason. Maybe she was hoping he would investigate the issue for her or maybe she hoped that he would be able to sense something in the mind of one of the station's occupants. Something there must benefit her or she wouldn't have bothered to say anything at all. More than anything, it made him not want to look into it out of spite.
Will did not look up as she left. He ate his food quickly, like he was expecting her to come back swoop down to carry him off in her talons because it wouldn't surprise him if she suddenly sprouted talons and tore him to pieces.
The rest of the day passed slowly, he didn't have much to do. At seventeen-hundred hours he found himself standing outside the infirmary.
"Ah, Will." Hannibal greeted as he left the treatment area. "If it's alright with you I'd like to have our session in my quarters. Much more privet."
Will nodded and allowed himself to be lead to Doctor Lecter's room. Inside it was exactly the same room as every other unit on the station, but it looked far more lavish than Will's ever would. It was a little too perfect. As Hannibal took a seat in an armchair, he encouraged Will to sit on the couch. There was a moment where Will didn't want to ruin the perfect aesthetic of the room by sitting down, but he took a breath and sat anyway.
"So," Hannibal began, clasping his hands in his lap, "Tell me how you got this job here."
Will breathed a long sigh, "You know how I got this job, it's in my records."
"Yes, but I'd like to hear it from you," the doctor smiled.
Will grimaced. He knew what this was. He was being sized up before the job began infecting his mind. This was the control session. "I used to be an engineer working on cargo ships."
The cardassian nodded, "And not trained by Star Fleet, I hear. Why is that?" The majority of top tier engineers went through Star Fleet, it gave them access to top notch star ships after all.
"Star Fleet won't let crazy people graduate, I wouldn't have made it through." Maybe that was a bit of an over simplification, there were many reasons he did not want to join Star Fleet but that was the main reason he would not have made it through if he had chosen to go to the academy.
"You are not crazy, Will," Doctor Lecter assured.
"We'll see about that, it's only my first session after all," Will scoffed. If he got out of this without some sort of lasting mental impression it would nothing short of a miracle. Everything left an impression on Will.
"Why did you really chose not to attend Star Fleet academy?"
Will paused, not really expecting the doctor to press him into an answer. "I didn't have to. My father was an engineer and he taught me everything I knew, I went on jobs with him. Eventually, started assisting him and from there reputation and experience was worth more than my lack of formal training. That was good because I don't think I could handle all the academics at Star Fleet breathing down my neck. They all want to take me apart and put me back together. This was more under the radar, or so to speak."
Doctor Lecter smiled, pleased that he had answered honestly this time. "So, what sorts of cargo ships did you work on?"
Will shrugged, "Any I could find with a low crew count. It didn't matter what they were transporting, just as long as the mission was less than half a year long."
"If it was longer?"
"I'd get stuck in the minds of my crew mates. They found it very annoying." He tended to adapt habits when he lived in close quarters with others. He was told it was creepy.
Hannibal hummed. "You moved away from cargo ships though."
Will nodded. "Yes, I ended up on a diplomatic mission. It was vulcan, they were trying to make a trade deal with a group of romulans for some medical technology."
"And this is where your talent was realized?"
"Yes," he wrinkled his nose slightly at the word talent, but did not comment on it, "I told the vulcans exactly what the romulans wanted to hear and a fair deal was made. The vulcans passed the word along and I had a steady flow of work."
"What made you accept this job?"
"It's on the edge of nowhere," Will sighed, "It's more open than a tiny ship. People need me."
Hannibal inclined his head slightly. "People need you?"
"People are dying out here," Will's eyes skirted across the floor and out the window on the far side of the room. There was a cargo ship passing by, Will could feel them even from this distance. They were agitated after a long trip.
"And you feel obligated to help," Hannibal drew Will's attention back to himself.
"Yes. It's more purposeful than settling trade deals." So many trade deals, so many goods. Sometimes he found it hard to care.
"Trade deals are very important."
"But they don't hold as much weight as a life, do they Doctor?"
"I'd expect it depends on the sort of deal being made," the cardassian smiled, "How do you find the station so far?"
"Fine. Although, I met a rather unpleasant orion woman today," the betazoid said absently.
"Freddie Lounds?" Lecter guessed, from his tone he shared Will's feelings for her.
"Yes." She must have a reputation, that wasn't surprising.
"I would encourage you not to deal too closely with her, she writes news articles in her spare time and is prone to spreading rumor," Hannibal's mouth was turned down. It was the first time Will had seen him unhappy. He was tracking the emotions that played through the doctor, it was weird not to feel them as they flitted by.
"What sort of stories does she write?" Will asked, wondering what she could possibly have an interest in writing.
"Dramatized stories of how the Federation is failing in its duty to keep peace in these troubled times." That would be why she was in such a troubled area of the galaxy. Easier to spin lies from truth.
"Wonderful," Will rolled his eyes.
"Indeed."
"She said the station was haunted." Despite his distaste for Freddie Lounds, his curiosity about the information she'd given him got the better of him.
Hannibal let out a little huff of laughter. "Among some, it has that reputation."
"You don't agree?" Will asked, mildly amused.
Hannibal smiled, "I do not believe in ghosts, William."
"Neither do I, but she said people disappear." People disappearing could not be discounted outright.
Doctor Lecter quirked an eyebrow. "And where would a ghost take a person, do you think?"
"Maybe suck them out an airlock." Will shrugged. He'd have to see a body to really know what a ghost was capable. A crime scene, he'd done it before. Sometimes diplomatic missions got messy. Maybe he was taking this thing a little too seriously.
"A living person could do that as well," Doctor Lecter pointed out.
"You think someone is doing this?" It was certainly a possibility.
"Well, I don't think it's a ghost," the Cardassian gave a smile.
Will hummed, "I'll keep my eye out anyway. If only just to know something Freddie Lounds doesn't."
"An admirable motivation," Doctor Lecter chuckled, "So, do you have any concerns about this job that I should be made aware of?"
"Nope," Will lied, or maybe it was only a half lie. He knew that being here, around any sort of conflict would affect him negatively but he didn't seem to care enough to do anything about it.
"None at all?"
"None."
"Alright then, is there anything in particular you would like to talk about?"
"What would I want to talk about?" Will echoed back in confusion.
"I am not privy to that information, which is why I'm asking you."
Will was not impressed with his joke. "I don't think I want to talk about anything. I would really rather not be here at all."
Hannibal sighed, "Well, I could go on prompting you until the time runs out or I could let you go now." He left space for Will to speak.
"I'd rather go." An easy choice.
Hannibal sighed, "Very well, it was a good first session, I look forward to our next one."
Will made a noise of acknowledgement as he stood and walked out the door. Leaving the good doctor alone in his room without a proper goodbye.
A/N: I think I started this the first night I went off to school back in fall, I've been working on it on and off. I'm on the final legs so I thought I'd start posting it... Titles are hard, don't judge me :P
When I started this, I didn't realize that Brian Fuller had worked on parts of Voyager and Deep Space Nine or anything. I was just thinking about how much of a betazoid Will was and how much Hannibal reminded me of Garak. The cardassians are basically a race of Hannibal's though. Had change Hannibal a bit to be a Cardassian though appearance wise.
Also, I love Hannibal to death but the show has a tendency to get super pretentious, so dialogue may be a bit... I don't know, lighter? Than the show. And by that I mean far less intelligent because I can't be asked to sound sophisticated. Just thought I'd let you know.
Thanks