Revenge
It started out small. Conversations dropping as he walked by, people giving him a wide berth in the corridor . . . nothing Julian hadn't expected. He was just so pathetically grateful to still have his job and his license that everything else simply faded into the back of his mind.
The sharp decline in patients was surprising at first until Julian overheard one of them arguing with Jabarra, refusing to be treated by a 'freak'. The blood drained from Julian's face and he had retreated to his office to avoid further outbursts. Several pointed questions directed at his nursing staff revealed that most patients either delayed reporting to the Infirmary for help or sought medical assistance elsewhere. The relief and triumph Julian had felt at holding onto his career turned hollow in his chest.
Still, Julian refused to give up. Lore surrounding genetically engineered humans had had centuries to grow and terrorize others. Julian knew that fear and hatred of his status were inevitable, but he believed that his work on the station for the last five years would remind them that he wasn't to be feared. He just had to be patient. Things would settle down soon enough.
By the third instance of his private quarters being vandalized, Julian realized that the problem was bigger than he realized.
=/\=
Odo's eyes scanned the Promenade surrounding the Replimat almost as a reflex while Garak paused his story to sip his tea. Breakfasts with the Cardassian tailor had become a somewhat unexpected pleasure that the constable looked forward to.
A furtive movement immediately caught Odo's attention. He zeroed in on Bashir as the young man hesitated in the door to the Infirmary, taking a step out, then stepping back. After another false start, Bashir summoned up the courage to walk onto the Promenade and head towards a kiosk selling jumja sticks.
Odo was too far away to hear their conversation, but the facial expressions and body language of Bashir and the Bajoran proprietor were more than informative. The look of disgust on the Bajoran's face when he noticed Bashir, as well as Bashir's wilting stature and hunched shoulders, told Odo that the station's denizens were not as 'all right' with the doctor's augmented status as Bashir had relayed them to be.
Bashir was clearly trying to appear non-threatening, but the vendor was unmoved. After several gestures at the jumja sticks on display, Bashir finally slinked back to the Infirmary empty-handed.
"It's surprising, isn't it? How a species' whose month-old knowledge of genetic engineering is somehow as discriminatory as that of the Terrans."
Odo turned back to Garak, taking note of the uncharacteristic coldness on his face. "Has he mentioned anything to you?"
"Despite the reports of his enhancements, I'm afraid our good doctor is still hopelessly optimistic when it comes to his belief in others," Garak replied. "What Dr. Bashir has shared and what I have personally witnessed tell two different stories."
"I'm concerned that it's only going to get worse," Odo admitted. "Each report I get from various witnesses suggests escalation, but unless Dr. Bashir agrees to submit a complaint himself, my hands are tied."
Thoughtfulness stole across Garak's face. "If Julian refuses to handle this situation himself, then perhaps it's up to his friends to handle it for him."
Odo narrowed his eyes. "What did you have in mind?"
A sly smile curled Garak's lips.
=/\=
One day later
"May I join you?"
Garak looked up from his lunch and immediately smiled at Jadzia Dax. "Commander, I would be honored to share your company."
Jadzia smiled and sat down across from Garak, setting her lunch tray down on the table. "I'm surprised to see you eating alone. I thought today was your usual day to eat lunch with Julian."
"Alas, our doctor finds himself once again too busy to stop for meals," Garak replied.
"Maybe we can bring lunch to him," Jadzia suggested. "And convince him that hiding in the Infirmary isn't the solution."
"I think I'll leave that part to you," Garak replied, amused. "I doubt anything I could do would convince him otherwise."
"Oh, I don't know about that," Jadzia replied. "I saw him poke his head out during the excitement this morning at the jumja kiosk. What a shame; the entire stock of jumja sticks eaten by a pack of voles. The same ones that Constable Odo had secured for transport off the station."
"It is a shame, but I don't see what that has to do with me," Garak replied easily.
"So that wasn't you near the kiosk's supply cabinet this morning right before the incident?" Jadzia asked.
"Really, Commander, you have quite the imagination," Garak stated. "You've clearly been spending time with our young doctor."
Jadzia hummed noncommittally, taking a bite of her lunch.
Nearby snatches of conversations floated toward them in the crowded Replimat. ". . . catch me asking for help from that augmented freak . . ."
Jadzia's frame tensed at the hostile exclamation, though her expression gave nothing away. Across from her, Garak calmly sipped his drink as if nothing was amiss.
". . . better off asking one of the nurses, or find a docked ship with a doctor . . ."
Jadzia pinpointed the source of the conversation three tables away. Three Terrans were seated there, but she didn't recognize them.
". . . boycott the augment's business and they'll have to get rid of it . . ."
Fire blazed in Jadzia's eyes. She met Garak's equally determined gaze.
"My turn," she stated.
Garak inclined his head in acknowledgment.
=/\=
Three days later
Miles O'Brien strode purposefully through the habitat ring toward Julian's quarters. It had been weeks since he'd seen the younger man outside of duty hours, and while he knew Julian's reasons for his self-imposed exile, enough was enough. The dartboard in Quark's was calling their names and Miles was determined to answer.
The engineer paused outside Julian's quarters and signaled the door chime.
No answer.
Miles frowned; he knew Julian was inside. He'd checked with the computer before heading over. He tried again.
Silence.
Miles rapped a fist on the closed doors. "Julian, I'm not leaving until you answer me, so you might as well open the door!"
After a moment's hesitation, the doors finally slid open. Miles took three steps inside before abruptly coming to a halt, his jaw dropping.
Every piece of furniture in the living area was either slashed, broken, or overturned. Shredded fabric and cracked data padds had already been swept into piles, clearly waiting removal. The walls, however, were covered in terrible slurs in red and yellow paint which Julian was presently trying to scrub off.
Miles felt the anger begin to bubble in his stomach. "What in the hell-."
"It's not as bad as it looks," Julian quickly stated, his tone calm as he tossed the rag he had been using onto the floor. "It's mostly station property this time. After the second break-in, I decided to store my personal items somewhere safe. A lot of this," he gestured at the ruined furniture, "was already broken."
There were too many things wrong with the doctor's statement. "Second time?" Miles echoed incredulously. "Just how many times has this happened? And not bad? Julian, your quarters are destroyed! Where the hell is security?"
"I didn't call them," Julian replied.
His friend was entirely too calm for Miles' taste. "Why the hell not?" the chief demanded.
"First, because they still haven't caught the culprits the first few times I called," Julian replied, folding his arms over his chest. "And second, because I can't be sure someone from security isn't involved."
Miles' gut reaction was to deny the implication, but the resignation in Julian's eyes stilled his tongue. As he turned the idea over in his head, he realized that gaining entry to a senior officer's quarters without detection on multiple occasions likely required security access.
The growing fury must have shown on Miles' face because Julian spoke again before Miles could start yelling.
"People have every reason to be scared, Miles," he said soothingly. "There's a reason genetic engineering is illegal. Give it time and it will all blow over."
"This isn't fear, Julian!" Miles cried, waving a hand at the walls. "This is hatred! This is illegal! This is . . . stupid!"
Julian let out a huff of laughter as he leaned down to collect his cleaning rag once more. "On that, you'll get no argument from me. If you're here to invite me out, I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I've still got a bit of tidying up to do."
The thought of leaving Julian alone amidst the wreckage of his home turned Miles' stomach. "The hell you do! Get some clothes, or whatever is still salvageable. You're staying with me and Keiko until this gets straightened out."
"Miles, no," Julian argued, life coming into his eyes for the first time in their conversation. "You've got a new son-."
Miles moved closer as Julian spoke, snatching the rag from Julian's hand. "No arguments. You're coming with me right now if I have to fling you over my shoulder and carry you myself. Or would you rather I send Keiko after you?"
Julian ducked his head. "Whoever is responsible for this," he waved his hand at his quarters, "could still come after me there. I would never forgive myself if something happened to your home, your family, because of me."
"Not you," Miles countered. "Because of some narrow-minded idiots. And anyway, nothing is going to happen because after we get you settled, we're going to go straight to Odo about this."
"I doubt petty vandalism is serious enough to warrant attention from the head of station security," Julian pointed out.
"No, but serious threats made against the station's Chief Medical Officer is right up his alley," Miles shot back as he gently took Julian's elbow and steered him to the bedroom.
Finding it to be in the same state as the living area, Miles made a silent vow to resolve the situation himself in whatever manner he could.
=/\=
Two days later
It was Quark who found him.
Whether by sheer luck or divine intervention, Quark had been heading through several deserted corridors on his way back to his bar when he turned a corner and found Julian Bashir sprawled against the wall, battered and unconscious.
Anyone else would have called for security, or for the Infirmary, seeking help from anyone who could hear.
Quark called Odo.
"And you didn't see or hear anyone else nearby?" Odo asked.
Quark tore his eyes away from Jadzia scanning Julian with a borrowed medical tricorder, Miles hovering nearby with a medkit. "No, like I said. He could have been lying here for a while. At most a couple hours. Not any longer."
Odo folded his arms. "When you passed through here the first time?" he asked knowingly. "Why exactly were you here? Your quarters are on the other side of the habitat ring."
"I think the more urgent question is why Dr. Bashir was over here, don't you?" Quark deflected.
"Answering a summons for medical assistance."
Quark and Odo both turned to Garak, who had been standing silently nearby. He hadn't spoken upon arriving on scene with Jadzia.
A hardness glinted in Garak's eyes as he met Odo's questioning gaze. "I had just managed to convince Julian to take a quick lunch at the Klingon restaurant when the call came. Male, from security. He didn't identify himself but told Julian that medical assistance was needed near Docking Bay Three." Garak's gaze fell on Julian's still form. "Whoever it was must have ambushed him on the way and dragged him hear."
Odo followed his gaze. "How is he, Commander?" he asked, his tone gentle.
Jadzia's expression was hard. "Broken and cracked ribs, fractures in his arms and legs, deep contusions all over his torso . . .whoever did this was clearly looking to punish him."
"Does he need a doctor?" Odo asked.
Jadzia consulted the tricorder and looked at Odo. "It . . . would be best. But I can't be sure we wouldn't be delivering Julian up on a silver platter to someone looking to finish the job."
"We can put him in the medbay on the Defiant," Miles offered. "Worf can help keep an eye on him and make sure no one tries anything while he recovers."
"Commander Worf is not a doctor," Odo pointed out.
"I have a friend who works on the Persephone," Jadzia stated. "She just docked earlier today. I can see if my friend can vouch for her medical staff."
"That just leaves finding the culprits," Garak stated.
"A job best left to me," Odo countered.
"We would, of course, leave all legal matters up to your discretion," Garak allowed. "For matters that fall within ethical violations, well, I'm sure we'll all be more than happy to offer our assistance."
The sentiment was echoed in the stubbornness of Miles' jaw and the flash in Jadzia's eyes.
"I . . . could help point you in the right direction," Quark spoke up.
All eyes turned to him in varying degrees of surprise and suspicion. "For a price?" Miles asked in disdain.
"In a manner of speaking," Quark replied. "This kind of discrimination and violence tends to be bad for business."
"Let's get Julian to the Defiant and brief Worf on the situation," Jadzia stated, packing her tricorder away. "We can work out the rest of the details later."
=/\=
Three days later
With the five co-conspirators coordinating their efforts, attention rapidly shifted away from their genetically engineered doctor and onto the sudden rash of misfortune that swept through the station. From malfunctioning environmental systems and docking connections to 'misplaced' inventory coupled with unfortunate bouts of food poisoning, it took all of three days before Captain Sisko became involved.
Jadzia, Miles, Odo, and Garak stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the wardroom, the first three at attention as Sisko paced slowly before them.
"Let me get this straight," the captain began. "My Chief Medical Officer has been systematically bullied and harassed by various station personnel. And instead of following protocol and reporting it to the authorities, my senior staff colluded to exact a personal vendetta against the responsible parties."
"Julian was clearly in no condition to do so himself," Garak pointed out.
Sisko whirled on him. "Not the point, Mr. Garak! We do not engage in revenge against people!"
Garak tilted his head to one side, not intimidated in the slightest. "Revenge sounds so mean. That's why I prefer to call it 'returning the favor'."
A snort of laughter escaped Miles before he could contain it.
Sisko sent the chief a warning look. "Be that as it may, we have rules for a reason! What does Dr. Bashir have to say about this? I can't imagine he would approve of your actions."
"He doesn't know," Jadzia answered calmly. "He's still recovering from his attack."
Sisko calmed slightly as his thoughts shifted to the doctor. "And how is he doing?"
"Physically, his condition is pretty much healed," Jadzia answered. "Mentally . . . he's going to carry this with him for a while. You don't forget this kind of hatred."
"We can't go around punishing people for their ignorance or intolerance, no matter how much we might want to," Sisko said. He turned to Odo. "Have you located the people responsible for the attack?"
"Yes, sir," Odo replied.
"And the vandalism?" Sisko pressed.
"Yes, sir."
"And have appropriate measures been taken?"
Odo dipped his head in a nod. "Those who are Federation citizens have been remanded into custody and are awaiting hearings. Non-Federation citizens have been released to Bajoran authorities to deal with."
"Then the matter is closed," Sisko declared. "I don't want to hear of any more instances of retaliation on Dr. Bashir's behalf. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir!" Jadzia and Miles chimed in unison, Odo a mere few seconds behind.
Sisko turned to Garak. "While I may not be your commanding officer, I am in charge on this station and I expect you to obey my orders as well."
Garak gave him an enigmatic smile, his eyes widening slightly in innocence. "Of course, Captain!" he exclaimed. "I assure you, you won't hear a word of any more problems from us."
Sisko held his gaze for a few extra beats, clearly hearing the double meaning.
"See that I don't," he finally said. "Dismissed!"
Sisko watched his staff and Garak quickly vacate the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, he tapped his combadge. "Sisko to Kira."
"Kira here, sir."
"Major, there are some 'guests' currently being held in the brig," Sisko stated. "They seem to be under the misapprehension that our doctor does not belong on this station. I'd like your help in disabusing them of that notion."
He could practically hear the anticipatory smile in Kira's voice. "I'm all ears, sir. What did you have in mind?"
END