Summary: Bashir trusts many people, but when it comes to Garak he is reluctant to put his life in the Cardassian's hands. Garak proves himself to be capable.
"Julian!" Jadzia came pelting towards him down the docking ring.
The CMO of Deep Space Nine was about to cross over the threshold into the runabout when he saw his friend arrive. She appeared to be out of breath and her face was flushed.
The doctor was making a standard supply run to a Federation colony that needed medicine to combat a virus outbreak. It was a condition that was ravaging the youthful. It was on a small, snowy planet formerly known as EF 1277-9. The Federation had used it for mining purposes and established a human colony there.
The planet was in Cardassian space and guarded by strict Cardassian borders. The Cardassians had agreed to their supply run and have given them a window of time for their errand, but they had been tetchy about the whole affair. There were suspicions that the Cardassians had a military base or a bioweapons research center nearby, but they were only rumors at present. Bashir was being sent with a Cardassian mediator in case the trip went south or if he needed to have a high level security code. The appearance of Jadzia had been a pleasant surprise and he had happily turned around to accept any well wishes or gestures of affection before his departure.
"I realize that this is last minute, but I heard from Benjamin that you didn't have a thermal coat and that you were going to use the emergency jackets on the runabout." Jadzia stuffed a soft wrapped package into his hands. "This is Ragenese fur and it should keep you warmer than the emergency coats. I wore one on my last trip to the Gamma Quadrant. I would have brought one for Garak too, but I heard that he wasn't going to the planet surface."
"You're right. I don't want to risk straining his Cardassian biology. It frequently gets below -17˚Celsius and I don't think he can endure those kinds of temperatures without some kind of health repercussion. He won't tell me if he can…at least."
"Have a safe trip and don't let Garak get you into trouble." Jadzia lightly touched his shoulder and then leaned forward and embraced him. Julian's arms came up to wrap around her.
The doctor sputtered with mock surprise. "Get into trouble? What about me? I've always been curious about this Cardassian sector and if we should happen to stumble across something interesting…"
She pulled back and playfully slapped his arm. "Don't even think about it, Julian. This is a supply run and if you do anything to jeopardize-"
"All right, calm down. I was joking." He gave her an affectionate grin.
She seemed to relax when she realized he had been teasing her.
"Thank you for the coat. I'll be sure to wear it."
"Trust me, it's comfortable. Don't be gone for too long."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Smiling in farewell, he boarded the Rio Grande.
Garak looked up from his spot in the co-pilot's seat as he entered. Julian saw his gaze dart immediately to Jadzia's gift. The tailor's expression was inscrutable.
"So, the Lieutenant saw you off. What did she give you this time? I hope it's not another pair of pants. The last one had such enthusiastic colors that I thought I might have to arrange for them to have an unfortunate accident."
Julian looked annoyed by the comment, but he replied in an even tone. "She gave me a coat. I thought that you got along well with her. You two always talk about fashion and station gossip."
Garak nodded. "I won't deny that she has a keen fashion sense but her visual perception of color is that of a…typical Trill. As for topics that we discuss, I would hardly call it gossip."
The Cardassian knew perfectly well that Jadzia regularly shared information with him about station residents. Julian had interrupted their in-depth conversations several times, and after every incident he could tell that they had more than purely detached interest in everyone's comings and goings.
"If you say so," Julian muttered and seated himself at the helm. He started clearing all moorings.
The Cardassian continued to talk as they took off into the vastness of space and went into warp. Julian piloted them for a while. He would occasionally answer Garak back or contribute to the discussion, but he seemed content to listen to the tailor as they traveled. To his surprise, Garak was in a wistful and thoughtful mood.
"Do you ever think about the universe as a whole, doctor? It has been expanding at a rapid rate and it shows no signs of slowing down or ever truly stopping. Even the most learned man cannot begin to fathom just how much more there is discover and to question. Yet, a being like you who can understand the complexities involved with documenting expansion and universal change has resigned himself to one section of the Alpha Quadrant."
The doctor considered his words. "I suppose you could say that I've limited myself. Yet…I'm quite happy to continue on with my humdrum life of getting patients to cooperate and finding cures to various diseases. I didn't join Starfleet because I wanted to make history. I joined to live out my own adventures."
The Cardassian gave an understanding nod, but he still seemed almost nostalgic for the majority of the trip. They eventually entered Cardassian space and they were forced to perform a code verification for the patrol. Their ship was scanned. They crossed the border with minimum fuss thanks to the efforts of Tain. Garak's eyes had darkened with an unreadable emotion as he heard which Cardassian had been responsible for giving the trip their blessing.
Arriving at their destination, they prepared the equipment and the doctor readied himself to be beamed down with the medical supplies. He replicated a thick pair of boots that could withstand trudging through snow and warm gloves to protect his hands. He opened the packaging around Jadzia's coat and smiled. It did look warm. It even came with heating packs. It was grey with accents of blue. The lining was fur, but the outside was made of a suede-like material. His Cardassian friend looked uncertain when he saw it. Julian crossed his arms as if to say, 'what is it now?'
"The trade of Ragenese fur is quite illegal, you know. Though I don't know why the Federation bothers to protect the beasts. They are ecologically inefficient and you'll never find a more unattractive creature in the Alpha Quadrant. Though, I grant that their fur does contain adequate warming properties."
"There, you see? I have excellent friends with good taste." Even though the coat had an illegal background, it had come from Jadzia, which made up for its origins.
"If you say so, doctor." Elim echoed his words from earlier and then smiled cheerfully.
The tailor stuck a comm badge on the human and led him to the beaming platform where he helped stuff Bashir's hands full of medical supplies. He fiddled with the satchel straps on his shoulder. The doctor chuckled.
"What is it?"
"You're acting like my personal valet." Even as the doctor said it, he noticed Garak adjusting his gloves and buttoning up the side slits as though Bashir was in his tailor's shop.
The doctor was closely reminded of a parent helping to bundle up their child before going out into chilly weather. He felt warmth spread through him from the subtle protectiveness of the gesture.
"There's no reason you shouldn't look your best while saving the Alpha Quadrant. I came here to be of assistance, and the Federation always believes in making a good impression, no matter the circumstances." The tailor was calm.
"I think I can make a good impression now. Would you be so good as to beam me to the planet surface?"
"Of course." The Cardassian stepped back and typed in the coordinates. The doctor vanished in a haze of blue and white light.
After arriving at the beam point, Bashir had a walk in store for him. The colony had a shield provided by a beacon that made the transference of transporter buffer matter infeasible. He was weighed down by bags and cases of equipment. He slowly trudged through the snow, leaving a fresh pathway. The landscape was desolate out here, but he started to spot homesteads in the colony on the horizon. It was made up of modern buildings that were humble in their own way. It was a mining community that was nearly nondescript. The houses were mostly made out of metal and they were colorless except for a drab natural grey and a dusting of white snow.
After a steady hike, he arrived and was led to the community center. Colonists were keeping their young patients here who were victims to the selective, but curable virus.
Upon arrival, Julian was greeted by several nurses who divested him of the equipment. They were eager to get the Federation medical equipment that would help them minimize patient symptoms. Julian spoke with a nurse about the correct dosages to be given with consideration of height and weight. He received the impression that she already knew the information. After delivering the instructions, he examined his surroundings.
The human children were very ill. They huddled together in the sickroom, emitting phlegmy coughs. The patients were bundled up in numerous blankets and several heating apparatuses warmed the air. Julian crouched down and felt the brow of the nearest patient. The teenager's forehead was clammy and damp with sweat, but not unnaturally warm.
"You're not feverish. You should be feeling better soon."
He did not have time to tend to each ill individual, but giving a few seconds of comfort to one of the youths did much to ease his conscience. The teen slowly nodded in response to his words.
"You brought the supplies. T-thank y-" The youth was overcome by another fit of coughing.
"Rest and just try to relax. Doctor's orders." Julian smiled.
The young human nodded in response and let his eyes drift shut. Julian continued on his way out of the sick room. This part of his job was the worst. Leaving people in need had never been his way, but he knew that it was unavoidable and he had a time limit here. After informing a nurse of his departure, he stepped out of the community center and back into the cold streets. It was time to give Garak a status update. He slapped his chilled metal badge.
"I've delivered the packages and instructions. I'll be on my way to the beaming point momentarily."
"Confirmed. I'm not going anywhere, doctor."
Julian could almost hear the fond smile in his voice. The doctor started trudging through the snow banks on the outskirts of the settlement. It was sleeting and the sky was darkening with cloud cover. He sunk deeply into the embankments and he had to wriggle his way out. The wind gusts started picking up and the snow was coming down in heavy droves. He tapped his commbadge again.
"It's going to take me a while to get to the beam point. There's a storm picking up. It doesn't look dangerous, but it's going to slow me down."
"Would you like for me to meet you at the beam point?"
The offer made Julian pause. "Err, no. Thanks for the concern, but I think I can make it through. Just be on standby."
"Waiting on standby." The tailor sounded more businesslike.
Slushy snow pelted against the borrowed jacket. It slapped him in stinging pieces in the face. The wet coldness seemed to go straight to his bones. It's a good thing Garak isn't out in this, he thought. The Cardassian was safe and cozy in the runabout and the doctor was glad of it. Bashr's mammalian body was much more suited for this kind of climate than his friend's…if only this blasted coat would stop tickling him. He scratched his glove covered hands.
He only had a mile to walk before he reached the beam spot. It was going to become very cold very quickly. He crossed his arms and shivered. It was time to plow forth into the true frontier.
The Cardassian waited for the call to inform him that Julian had reached the beam point and that he was coming aboard. In the meantime, he whiled away the minutes by accessing the runabout's meteorological scanning equipment. There was a storm brewing near Julian's location. The doctor would have his work cut out for him navigating through the snowfall and wind. He did not envy such a struggle. To be surrounded by those massive mounds of ice crystals would be the most uncomfortable experience for his species. He preferred sun and sand and the gravity of his home planet.
All he could do was monitor Bashir's location and wait for him to contact him. He ordered tea from the replicator and sat down with a thoughtful expression. He wondered how the doctor's genetic enhancements allowed him to tolerate the cold. Was he more or less "tailored" to endure a broad range of different climates, or were the changes more mental than physical? If they overhauled his mental facilities, then they should have put the same consideration into his body. Humans always did these deeds by halves.
The doctor had been gone for a while now. He pondered over contacting him to find out if there was something amiss. He decided against it. If Julian ran into trouble he had time to press his badge and inform someone. It would no doubt be a long and chilly hike for him.
Julian's limbs were numb. The long time in the cold was making his head swim and his vision blur. He blinked his swollen eyelids. Was the cold supposed to do this? He had never been this frigid before and he had only ever treated patients for mild hypothermia. The actual sensations were new to him and not something to be gleaned from a textbook. His skin would not stop itching. It was like he was covered in stinging bees. His heart rate was elevated as though he actually had venom in his bloodstream.
The scenery was nondescript, empty like a blank canvas. There were no plants or life forms. His hand hovered over his commbadge. He had only a few minutes before he reached the outside of the artificial anti-transfer blanket. His hand shook. He knew he should report his supposed difficulty, but what would it matter? Garak could meet him at the beam point, but the Cardassian would be out in the freezing cold for no purpose. He was not a physician and he could not stabilize-
The doctor stumbled and nearly fell. He straightened, clutching at his pounding heart. His BPM…too fast. Dizziness, itching, lethargy… Julian kept trudging on with a touch of desperation. He had to reach the beam point. Could he be having an allergic reaction? It was a condition that suited the facts best. Experimentally, he paused just long enough to pull his sleeve up and expose his wrist.
"Garak, beam me up on a complete decontamination cycle."
Julian's voice was quiet and thready against the howling wind. The Cardassian frowned, walking over to the beaming platform to adjust the settings. His brow ridges were furrowed with bafflement.
"Are you afraid that you caught something in the settlement?"
"Just do it, please."
"Certainly."
Garak pulled down the lever that switched the settings over and beamed the doctor into the runabout. A precautionary decontamination wall rose up in place as soon as Julian materialized. The doctor had taken off his coat. He stood, clutching at the vicinity of his heart. His face was badly swollen and dotted with markings.
"Doctor!" The Cardassian touched the decontamination field. It weakened, but remained solid. A runabout alarm went off.
"Wait, Garak!" The doctor's voice was quiet and raspy.
After what felt like much longer than a few seconds, the cycle completed. As soon as the field dropped, Garak surged forward.
"I'm having an allergic reaction…anaphylaxis. I need Epinephrine. Get the med kit," Julian ordered as his legs buckled beneath him and he collapsed in a sitting position on the beaming platform.
Hands were pushing him, encouraging him to lie down. The doctor could not summon up the energy to warn his friend. He needed a medical kit now or it would not matter if he was lying down or not; he would lose consciousness. His vision was fading out, becoming obscured by grey.
He felt the gentle sting of a hypospray against his neck and a thick emergency blanket was tucked over him. The doctor's eyes were closing and he simply breathed in and out, trying to relax. He started shivering. The hand on his forehead made him flinch from the contact, but its comforting warmth was pure bliss. His reptilian friend's skin was always chilly so he must be frigid in comparison. He heard a rustling movement and then more blankets were placed over him. Julian was shivering violently.
The doctor heard Garak mutter something darkly about Dax. Julian was not yet aware enough to speak up in her defense and his brow furrowed with frustration. Almost absent-mindedly, Garak seemed to be stroking his tense brow with his thumb, tracing a path where Cardassian eye ridges would have been. The doctor was calmed by the gesture.
"G-rak," Julian mumbled.
"Give yourself time to recover."
He fell silent, shuddering. They waited several minutes more while the doctor warmed up. In the meantime, the former spy checked his pulse, respiration, and the condition of the wheals on his face. The doctor was given an antihistamine to control his symptoms. The careful touches and litany of assurances issuing from Garak soothed the young human. He had never known such affection, even from his own parents. Eventually, Julian opened his eyes and was able to focus a clear gaze on his Cardassian mentor.
Garak had been crouched over him on the decking. The contents of a well-stocked med kit lay scattered across the floor beside him as if in a fit of impatience he had upended the kit in order to find equipment quickly. Bashir's recollection of events was disconnected. He must have blacked out for a moment. His body felt strained and weakened, but it was warmer and the hives were slowly receding.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better, but I would like to sit up now."
After a brief moment of consideration, Garak helped maneuver him into a sitting position. His body language practically radiated concern.
"We should get out of here. We have a time limit." The doctor was quick to disregard his malady and focus on his duty.
The Cardassian appeared torn. He could not leave Bashir unsupervised in this condition. "Do you think you can sit in a chair? I'll help you to the co-pilot's seat."
Bashir nodded his acquiescence. The doctor was helped to his feet and he was steered into the cockpit. After Garak settled him in the chair, he went to go retrieve the blankets. He wrapped the human up again.
"Thank you."
The tailor gave him a tilting nod in response and made preparations to move the runabout out of orbit. Julian's swollen hands hovered over the controls as if about to help him. Elim shot him a look that clearly conveyed that his assistance was unwanted. The doctor frowned, but did not protest. He shoved his hands back under the blankets.
"Preparing to leave orbit inside Cardassian space…"
Garak gave him a businesslike commentary of how he was piloting, informing him when they were going into warp and when they would meet the Cardassian border patrol. The doctor bore his friend's incessant protective attitude with grace. All was silent until Garak's calm mask slipped.
"It was that cursed coat," the tailor said with hint of a primal growl. "Not only was it a poor statement of fashion, but it could have killed you. Ragenese fur…"
"At least now we know what I'm allergic to," Julian stated casually as he checked on the swelling of his digits.
"The station is the nearest Federation outpost, otherwise I would take you to a Federation hospital."
Julian nodded. "That's fine."
"What isn't fine is your choice of winter wear. When we return, I'm creating a coat that you will try on before you go on planetary excursions."
"Garak, why are you so concerned?" The doctor's face was lined with confusion. "I'm stable."
Bashir waited for the Cardassian to elaborate. His temper was not usually so fiery unless there was a reason behind it. His ire could not all be directed at Dax.
"You wouldn't- oh, there's no purpose in revisiting past events. Don't your people state 'let bygones be bygones?'"
The doctor considered the words and what he was missing. "I wouldn't…what? I wouldn't wake up?"
The Cardassian swallowed. "Indeed, and it was impolite of you to be so thoroughly incapacitated when we needed to leave this sector. Both piloting and medical care are best done as separate activities while-"
Garak stopped speaking as warm mammalian hands closed over his own and lifted up two of his scaled fingers. Julian pressed the digits to his wrist. The steady jump of a pulse thrummed beneath the Cardassian's fingertips. The doctor smiled warmly at him.
"I'm still alive thanks to you. Despite unforeseen circumstances, the mission was a success."
"Hmmm." The tailor appeared as if he still had doubts, but he looked reassured by the steady pumping of blood in Julian's veins.
"You're so theatrical sometimes, doctor," he gently teased and disentangled their hands.
"I suppose you could say that I learned from the best."
Displaying a mischievous smirk, Garak played along. "No doubt you are referring to a certain tailor, but though quite suave and well-mannered, he is hardly theatrical."
"This tailor blew up his own shop to get a security officer's attention."
He beamed. "Charming fellow. I like him already."
Julian smiled back fondly. He wondered why he had hesitated to inform Garak that he had been in danger. The tailor obviously cared about him and he had been more than capable of acting quickly to save his life. It was clear now that Garak was a friend that could be called upon to assist him. The doctor would not be likely to hesitate in the future. Their runabout traveled safely back to Deep Space Nine with an amused human and a relieved Cardassian on board.
The End