DS9: Book by its Cover Chapter Six
Note: The first part of this chapter is Garak POV.
The second part of the chapter is Julian going to visit an old friend.
In the last 2000 words Julian and his friend have a serious discussion about consent. The Remnants have a difficult past with their creators and historical issues about consent is discussed.
I am letting you know if this is not your jam. I do not write sex scenes, so don't worry there are no graphic scenes, but historical dubious consent is discussed.
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:
Youth: Julian was considered too young to be trained in the Remnant's more martial ways.
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.
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.
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 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 cocky 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 24th 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 shit 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 13th 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 Remnant, 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 amusement.
"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 13th 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 Julian's 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
Notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I enjoyed writing it, I think the story is heading in the direction I want it to go.
Some of you may have noticed. But my Remnants have been loosely inspired by the TV show Highlander, from way back in the 90's. I don't think I have enough specific content to include a Highlander crossover tag with this fic. Though as far as I am concerned Ben is Methos. It's definitely who I am imagining when I wrote him. Let me know if you have an opinion on this one way or another.