DS9: Book by its Cover Chapter Six
Garak's Shop
Garak found himself engrossed in the familiar dance of negotiation with the Ferengi, revelling in the challenge of outwitting the crafty merchants. Haggling with Ferengi was, in Garak's estimation, a mental exercise that kept his wits sharp. He approached the deal with his customary finesse, starting with an exorbitant initial price, fully aware that the Ferengi would attempt to drive it down to a more reasonable figure. The Ferengi clientele on the station were, overall, Garak's most frequent patrons, and he relished the art of bargaining with them.
Midway through this financial tête-à-tête, the entrance of Doctor Bashir into his shop momentarily interrupted Garak's focused negotiation. The Cardassian, sensing a fleeting disappointment in the doctor's expression upon seeing him occupied, offered a brief smile before returning his attention to the ongoing deal. The doctor, undeterred, began to peruse the various garments on display.
Garak, keenly aware of Julian's presence, his long limbs and litheness, effortlessly drawing Garak's eyes. He tried to maintain an air of nonchalance. However, the subtle change in his tactics with the Ferengi betrayed a touch of impatience. Knowing that impatience could lead to unfavourable deals with Ferengi, Garak controlled his demeanour, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the doctor.
As Julian wandered through the racks, appreciating the soft textures and bold colours of Garak's creations, he couldn't help but assess the quality of the merchandise. The man was always dressed tastefully, a walking advertisement of his wares. An appraising look was cast towards the Cardassian tailor, contemplating the depth of Garak's skills beyond the art of tailoring. The thought of unexplored talents lingered in Julian's mind, prompting a tentative smile as he noticed Garak's gaze directed briefly in his direction.
Observing a subtle tightening around Garak's eyes and a minute change in colour around his eye ridges, Julian concealed a quick grin. It appeared that Garak was equally eager to embark on their anticipated dance of wits. The stage was set, and the exchange between the doctor and the Cardassian tailor promised to be more than a simple transaction.
At last, the Ferengi signs the contract with Garak at leaves the shop.
Casually Garak updates his terminal, not wanting to appear too eager. With a final few strokes of his fingers, all the details the Ferengi wanted for his new suit have been completed. Ready for when Garak starts working on the order.
Finally, Garak turns his attention to the young man showing his impatience subtly as he shifts his wait from foot to foot. Garak notices the doctors index finger tapping against his leg. "My dear doctor, I am so sorry to keep you waiting," Garak says effusively giving the young man a pleased smile.
Julian returns Garak's smile with a grin, only wishing he had more time for this meeting. "I remembered, ah, from our conversation the other day, that you were a tailor and you invited me to your shop, so here I am," Julian says awkwardly, making sure to dip his head and look away.
"Yes Doctor, I do remember I told you I owned a clothier shop," Garak replied, enjoying the young man's confusion. He didn't want to make it too easy on the Doctor.
"Er, you can just call me Julian if you want," Julian said with a smile, he moved his head so he could look coyly at Garak through his eyelashes. Not an easy feat when Julian was several centimetres taller than the Cardassian.
"Julian, my newest friend, how can I help you today?" Garak solicitously asks. Garak threw a discerning eye over the young man. Julian's uniform was not flattering at all in fit, though the teal colour of the uniform accents did not clash too terribly with his skin tone.
Garak waits expectantly for Julian to reply. Julian is just standing in his shop, with a smile and a faraway look in his eyes, the picture of happiness.
"Oh yes!" Julian says, a flush staining his cheeks. "Well, I am a keen sportsman, what with being a super soldier and all, so I like to keep fit," Julian explains unabashedly, emphasising his words with an uncoordinated arm flex.
Garak blinks at him. 'Why is he always making such strange movements, is this some peculiar characteristic of being a Remnant?' wonders Garak.
"Well apparently Chief O'Brien is a keen racket ball player, and he has invited me for a game. I find I am in need of a suitable sporting outfit," Julian explains. "Something colourful".
Garak makes sure to have an interested look on his face, 'damn,' he thought, 'he didn't expect the young doctor or 'Julian' to persuade the engineer to play with him'. Chief O'Brien seemed the dour sort, the exact type of man to find Julian's happy manners and chattiness to be annoying. Garak showed Julian to one of his consoles to look at different sporting styles available. 'I will have to invite Julian out straightaway, before anyone in the crew gains influence over the young man', he thought.
Julian stood close to Garak, the Cardassian's physical presence was pleasing, his broad shoulders almost touching Julian's. He also smelt delicious, like Rooibos tea, 'Yum!', thought Julian.
Julian had washed his hair with a shampoo that he synthesized himself, using the Cardassian climbing vine 'Lumara Velex', as a base scent. The bloom only flowers at night and has a very appealing scent to Cardassian's, according to a gardener Julian knew once. He paired it with sandal wood, by his calculations, Garak should find the scent compelling.
The warmth emanating from Julian was pleasant, Garak couldn't help shifting closer to the doctor. Any additional warmth was attractive in the frigid air of the station. 'Hmmm,' Garak was delightfully surprised, Julian smelled tantalising. Usually to Garak's nose, humans had a sour tang to their scent. Not exactly unpleasant, but not especially appealing either.
Julian chose form fitting shorts, paired with a singlet. Julian 'oohed' over the selection of patterns and colours of the fabric. He was delighted and enthusiastically flipped through the options available to him. Julian chose a soft breathable fabric, cream in colour with vibrant vivid green diagonal stripes.
Julian turned back to Garak and caught the man with pursed lips and frowning eyes at Julian's choice. The look on his face startled an enchanted laugh from Julian. Garak quickly banished the look from his face, transitioning to a more congenial expression.
"My apologies Julian I was distracted for a moment, thinking of a task due later".
"I know my taste is not what people deem to be fashionable," Julian said, allowing himself to express a genuine opinion. "But I have been drawn to bright colours ever since I was a child," Julian confided, "I decided a while back, that I will only please myself, at least when it comes to fashion".
"A very determined opinion for one so young," Garak said with a flattering smile. "If you will just walk this way, I will get you measured. Please just stand on this mark here on the floor. I will set the scanner".
Julian couldn't help but laugh at 'walk this way'. Garak looked at Julian, his eye ridges flaring slightly, denoting his puzzlement. "My apologies Julian, did I mispronounce something? I have always been complimented on the mastery of my Standard?" Queried Garak, feeling disconcerted at Julian's unexpected reaction.
Julian raises his hand in apology, looking chagrined, shifting his wait slightly. "Sorry, Sorry! Your words 'Walk this way' reminded me of an ancient comedy skit," Julian smiled warmly at Garak, a slight crinkle could be seen at the corner of his eyes.
"A skit?"
"Oh right, erm, a skit is a self-contained performance, usually no longer than ten minutes long, for the purpose of making the audience laugh," Julian explained.
"In this 'skit' an actor would say 'walk this way' and they then perform a comical walk, while all the other performers in the skit would mimic them," said Julian.
Garak was even more confused now, "And this is entertaining?"
"It's a visual joke, it has been around for thousands of years on Earth," explained Julian. "I think it is one of the few uniquely human art forms in the universe. Maybe I can show you an example at some time?" Julian asked tentatively a hopeful look in his eyes.
Once again Garak felt discombobulated by this unexpected topic of conversation, putting on a bright smile. "Of course, doctor, it sounds... educational". 'Surely it couldn't be as bad as 'Miracle on 34th Street, could it?' holding his face in a pleasant expression, Garak skilfully set about capturing Julian's measurements.
Garak was starting to fear that even in this low stake operation he would regret the deactivation of his 'wire'. An implant that enabled an agent to withstand torture if captured. On his banishment to the station, Tain had sent an operative who ruthlessly deactivated the device. Garak had a migraine for two days after that event.
Julian did a slight bounce, "yes educational, we could have a cultural exchange," Julian babbled excitedly. "There is so much to share with you. I particularly love graphic novels. I am sure you will find them fascinating". This meeting with Garak was proceeding wonderfully. 'I wonder how long I will be able to bait him for?' Julian speculated. Julian already felt that there were subtleties to Garak that were missing from Tain, who disappointedly, was single minded in his dedication to Cardassia. And thus, a bit boring, in Julian's opinion.
'Graphic novel' Garak wearily contemplated, hoping it wasn't a form of human pornography. If it was a novel, there must be some merit, Garak could gleam from it.
"Is it possible that my new outfit will be ready for today's match?" asked Julian.
"I will ensure your new attire will be ready this afternoon," Garak assured the other man. "Perhaps you can tell me how your game went with the Chief, this evening?"
Julian grasped his hands against his chest, dropped his head, a faint blush to his cheeks, before looking Garak directly in the eyes. "That would be lovely Garak".
Garak admired Julian's hazel eyes; it was a colour unseen on Cardassia. The most prominent eye colour was blue, then brown and black. Cardassian's didn't have mixed eye colours, even for those poor unfortunate souls who had some Bajoran parentage.
"Shall we meet at 20:00, on the promenade? I will reserve us a table at 'Celestial Spice', a clichéd name I know, but their food is reported to be one of the better options on the station," Garak suggested. "It also has a lovely viewing window, that looks out over the pylons of the station and the star field beyond".
Smiling Julian agrees to Garak's invitation. He pays for his new sporting attire and then excuses himself, so that he may return to his patients.
Evening
Julian had found himself inundated with a flurry of emergencies, each one demanding immediate attention. To add to the chaos, Commander Sisko had inexplicably decided to relocate the station to a new orbital position. The abrupt movement caught everyone off guard, with the red alert warning immediately preceding the move.
The consequence of this action was a cascade of injuries – contusions, cuts, and broken bones – as the station's inhabitants were left with insufficient time to secure themselves in safer locations. Concerned friends and relatives had to carry the wounded officers and civilians to the medical infirmary, where Julian, alongside his fellow doctors under his command, worked diligently to address the injuries.
The skilled nurses efficiently triaged the patients, allowing Julian and his colleagues to focus on administering treatment. Fortunately, no one suffered severe injuries, but the chaos disrupted Julian's plans for a friendly match with O'Brien. He understood that the Chief Engineer and his team were grappling with numerous breakdowns caused by the sudden movement of the station, taking precedence over their recreational activities.
Julian was hungry and exhausted, as he lent back in his office chair, stretching the kinks from his back, as he updated his patient notes. It was soothingly silent in his office, no noises reaching him through the sound damping field he had set in place. He had asked his head nurse to conduct a review of their inventory and order anything that they needed to restock. Julian needed to review his report and approve any of the more dangerous drugs.
Julian rubbed his tired eyes and then massaged his temples to relieve some of the tension he was experiencing. He knew as a Remnant, even a short nap would restore him completely. But he could still experience the feelings of being tired and physically exhausted, even if his recovery time was rapid.
Reflecting on his Progenitors' design of his genetic code, Julian pondered the inclusion of sleep in his makeup. Despite only requiring six hours of sleep per night, it wasn't a necessity for his health or functionality. This enigma had been a subject of philosophical and scientific debate among Watchers and Remnants for centuries, with numerous theories proposed but no definitive answer.
The prevailing consensus leaned towards the idea that sleep was a social construct, strategically integrated to ensure Remnants seamlessly blended in with their mortal compatriots. The intricacies of human life often required adjustments for the Remnants to navigate, and sleep appeared to be one such adaptation to maintain the semblance of normalcy.
Julian checked the time on his console, '21:49, damn!' he had even missed dinner with Garak. As a doctor he knew that Cardassian's had a shorter Ciarcardic rhythm than humans, of about 22 hours, and on average Cardassian's slept between 5 to 6 hours in every 22-hour period. 'Hmmm, there's a good chance that Garak is still awake,' Julian pondered, 'Should I chance it? See if he is still awake and willing to go for a late meal.'
One benefit to living on a space station was that for the entire 24-hour operating period there were always establishments open, to serve those people who worked on the opposing shifts.
Quickly changing his display to act as a mirror, Julian looked at his reflection. His curly hair was in somewhat of a disarray, easily corrected with a comb. He had a bit of stubble, it enhanced his jaw line, he thought, giving him an air of roguish charm. A quick check of the teeth, yes, he was still presentable.
With deft fingers he entered Garak's com-code. 'Calling' flashed on the screen while he waited for the Cardassian to answer.
Garak answered the call, looking as neat as a pin. "Ah Julian. I did not expect you to call after the emergency today," Garak said with a smile.
Julian brushed his hand over his head, disturbing his just combed hair. "My apologies Garak, it 'was all hands to the pump' as they say. I have just finished here and was hoping that it was not too late to get something to eat?" Julian asked with a hopeful look.
Garak noticing Julian's rumpled state and the tiredness behind his eyes, smiled sympathetically. "I would be delighted," Garak replied.
Julian could see Garak's hand moving off screen.
"Yes, I have just contacted the restaurant and they are still opened and would have a table for us," Garak explained.
Julian grinned at Garak, an air of relief about him. "Wonderful, I am so hungry I could eat a baby," Julian told him with a weary smile.
"What alarming imagery you humans have. Unless as a Remnant you need to eat babies?" queried Garak with a tilt to his head, suddenly not looking quite sure of himself.
"Don't worry Garak, it is one of those strange Human expressions," Julian reassured him. "Besides it is our number one rule given to us by our Prime: 'Try not to eat any humans, as it tends to upset them,' I have always taken that to extend to all sentient beings. So, you are perfectly safe from me," Julian explains seriously.
Garak smiles uncertainly, 'that's a joke, right!' Garak couldn't tell from the neutral expression on Julian's face. His mouth and jaw were relaxed, he didn't notice any of the crinkles around human eyes that denoted amusement.
"So, we will meet in say 15 minutes at 'Celestial Spice', Julian?"
"Yes in 15 minutes, goodbye Garak," Julian reaches out and disconnects the screen.
'15 minutes, I can shower here,' Julian thinks, quickly standing and walked to the replicator. He has some off shift clothes programmed in the device. Nothing fancy. But clean. He didn't want to wear his uniform after such a stressful day. He replicated a soft pair of charcoal grey trousers and a warm sage green jumper, with a subtle leaf motif integrated into the design. It was a replica of a jumper that his human grandfather had knitted for him as a young boy. He loved it so much, he had created a pattern for the replicator, so he can wear it whenever he wanted.
Every couple of years his grandfather knitted a new version of the jumper for him. Julian dreaded the day when he knew he would no longer receive a new jumper. Banishing the sad thought from his mind, Julian rushed to the staff locker room, where there was a sonic shower, he could use to clean himself.
Dinner
It was fifteen minutes exactly when he spotted Julian hurrying towards him on the Promenade. Garak took a private moment and admired the top Julian was wearing. It was very flattering to his complexion and physique, no doubt replicated', he thought, uncharitably.
"Julian my dear," Garak greeted warmly.
"Garak," Julian returned, a hint of relief that the workday was over.
For a moment Julian inexplicably looked awkward, as if he aborted a motion or practiced action. "Are you alright Julian, it looked like you were about to do something?" Garak questioned.
Julian hands fidgeted as if he didn't know what to do with them. "Ah, I suddenly realised I didn't know the correct greeting," Julian explained. "Human's often shake hands, or embrace, or kiss, when greeting each other. Generally depending where they are from on earth," Julian told Garak. "There are even some cultures on earth who greet each other by touching noses," Julian continued with a grin.
This was an outright lie of course. Tain had taught him years ago, the formal greetings of Cardassia. Back then he had taken delight in constantly getting it 'wrong', to see if he could get Tain to break cover. That had been a fun game.
"Ah!" Garak nods in understanding. "There are some on Cardassia who greet each other by touching foreheads," said Garak pointing to the delicate tear drop shaped crest on his forehead. "This is usually reserved for close family and lovers".
Garak was delighted by the shy smile Julian displayed at the word 'lovers'.
"But for good friends, an acceptable greeting is to touch the palms of the left hand together," with saying this Garak held up his left hand, palm presented to Julian.
"Like this?" Julian asked, nervously raising his own palm mimicking Garak.
Garak pressed his palm against Julian's warm hand. Garak was slightly dismayed to feel the rush of blood to his neck ridges, indicating attraction to those versed in Cardassian physiology. He then brought his hand slowly back down to his side. Even as a doctor, he didn't think Julian would be able to parse the meaning, even if he noticed the change.
Julian was careful to keep his features neutral, as his sharp eyes caught the minute change in colour of Garak's neck ridges. The equivalent of a human's blush. He was pleased. He too had felt an uptick in his pulse at the touch of hands.
"It is just a momentary contact between friends. The contact can be longer and is usually an indicator of the closeness of the friendship," Garak explained, as he regained control of his body.
"You said you were hungry; shall we go in?"
Julian and Garak walk into the restaurant. As expected after the day's events the restaurant was only half full. A waiting hostess guided them to their table. An unusual experience for Julian was when he noticed the frosty reception Garak was receiving.
In recent years, since Julian's Remnant status was revealed, he was generally met with suspicion at the minimum, at worst, outright hostility.
The hostess showed them to a table for two, directly beside the observation window. Julian absently wondered how much the proprietor had to pay to bag this prime location. The hostess showed them that the menu was projected in front of them, and they could order directly from the display. Julian thanked her as they were seated.
Once the hostess was out of earshot, Julian turned his attention back to Garak, "That was unusual. I am normally the one who garners the negative reaction wherever I go".
"Ah, I believe that the Bajoran's have no prohibition against genetic engineering. They do have an extreme dislike for Cardassian's though," Garak pointed out without ranker.
"Right, yes of course," Julian turned his face away from Garak. "This window does have a good view of the pylons and the habitation ring," Julian commented, covering for his faux pas.
"Do you know why they moved the station?" Garak fished for information.
"No idea. It's not like I need to know. I am after all an evil genetically engineered soldier," Julian said, he didn't bother hiding his frustration from Garak. It did piss him off at these ridiculous rules Star Fleet put around serving Remnants. Of course, Julian had his own private access codes to the station computer security system, that he could use at any time to find out what was going on. The restrictions in place just bothered him. Highlighting the distrust his fellow officers felt for him.
"I believe I know exactly how you feel," Garak empathises with Julian. Garak looks out the window. He couldn't see any obvious reason why they had moved the station. "It doesn't look very interesting here, I think we are even farther away from Bajor now too," Garak opined.
Releasing a sigh, Julian lets the annoyance go, preparing to enjoy his meal with Garak. Turning his attention back to the menu, "Can you recommend anything?"
"Truthfully Julian, you are the first person I have ever taken here, and I did not feel confident to dine here alone," said Garak with a rueful smile.
Julian immediately realised why this would be the case. "Ok, potluck it is then," Julian said with an enthusiastic grin. Determined to lighten the mood of the meal. "How about the spice infused spring wine stew. It says here that they use fresh ingredients imported directly from Bajor?" Julian happily suggests.
"Yes, I have tried the replicated stew from the Replimat. It will be interesting to know how it differs from the fresh version," Garak agrees. Garak looks at Julian and notices that the doctor looks far more relaxed now, though still tired. 'This may be the perfect opportunity to gain some information on the Remnants,' Garak thought.
Julian continued to hum happily as he placed the order for both of them, even selecting a paired wine to complement the meal. He looked back up at Garak with a contented smile. "I hope you don't mind that I've taken the liberty of ordering the wine as well," Julian mentioned.
Surrounded by the soft hum of patrons' conversations and the gentle clinking of tableware, the two men occupying a semi-private space, seated at least two tables away from other customers, fostering an intimate atmosphere. Even through the constant vibration of the station.
Garak responded flirtatiously, "I hope you're not trying to get me intoxicated to take advantage of me".
"Absolutely not," Julian replied firmly, his mouth tight and brows furrowed. The unexpected seriousness in Julian's response surprised Garak, who didn't anticipate such a strong reaction.
Julian, realising his intense response, he forcefully relaxed his shoulders and flexed his fingers to release tension. "Sorry, Garak. It's a sore point for me. On Earth, Remnants have a reputation for being excellent lovers, which is true. Our sexual mores haven't always aligned with the often-restrictive norms of Earth. Our approach to intimacy tends to be freer and more adventurous, focused on mutual respect and healthy exploration," explained Julian, his frown fierce. "However, because we won't reveal our reproductive practices and we can blend in seamlessly with unmodified humans, people paradoxically painted us with a predatory brush. Unfortunately, society hasn't always been receptive of us, and the Federation, influenced by its limited understanding of Remnant society and past events like the Eugenics War, unjustly stigmatises us."
Garak, now more aware of the complex background, was careful to school his features to not show his amusement at the 'excellent lovers' comment. "No need to apologise, my dear. It was just my poor excuse for humour," he said. Garak was once again surprised at the apparent freedom with which Julian spoke about Remnants.
'Julian had just mentioned the Remnants society and their leader the Prime in the call before dinner, so freely', Garak thought. He was bewildered by the Remnants society. He couldn't understand if the mysteries of the Remnants society were such a guarded secret, how someone as young, inexperienced, and indiscreet as Julian was allowed to wonder around the quadrant. It wasn't that long ago the Cardassia was at war with the Federation. 'Ancestors, Cardassia violently occupied Bajor, and only recently relinquished its's claim on the Bajoran System. Didn't Julian understand how much danger he was in? How could he trust so freely?' Garak wondered. A similar situation absolutely would not be allowed by the Cardassian government or military.
"Oh dear, I seem to be making a mess of this date," exclaimed Julian, a slight downturn to his mouth, as Julian rubbed his forehead, before resting his head tiredly in his hand. "I had hoped to, to well charm you or at least dazzle you with my intelligence".
"My dear I can assure you that I am entirely charmed," Garak said gallantly. Garak watched Julian carefully, pleased to see his words had the desired effect, when Julian straightened in his seat. "We are just getting to know one another. Miscommunication is to be expected. Why don't we start again?"
Julian perked up and smiled thankfully, "yes, let's start again... Good evening, Garak, I hope your day wasn't to upset with the station's repositioning?" Julian gamely asked.
"Alas, sewing is not conducive with the station hopping about the solar system," Garak lamented, with a gentle shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders.
"I can assure you doctoring was no easier," Julian sighed.
Just then a server appeared at their table, placing their meals in front of the two men. Aromatic steam rose from the scooped bowls, containing a rich white stew. The server then placed a plate of crusty sliced bread, with Bajoran butter and then a carafe of white wine. "Do you want me to pour the wine?" the waiter asked courteously.
"No, thank you," Julian replied.
Once again, the two men found themselves in a moment of privacy. Julian's face lit up with a smile as he turned his attention to Garak, his eyes reflecting genuine curiosity and eagerness. Leaning forward slightly, he inhaled the rich aroma of the stew before savouring a spoonful of the delicious concoction. With an observant gaze fixed on Garak's face, Julian awaited the Cardassian's own experience with the savoury creation, relishing each flavourful bite.
Observing Garak with keen interest, Julian patiently waited for the Cardassian to indulge in the dish. "Well, is it better than the Replimat's?" Julian inquired, a playful glint evident in his eyes.
Garak, showcasing his refined taste, considered the question with a momentary pause before responding, "Considerably better. There is always a subtle improvement between freshly prepared food and replicated fare. Don't you think so?" The subtle playfulness in Garak's tone echoed the nuances of the flavours they were enjoying.
Julian leans forward, with a mischievous look on his face. "I have a secret to confess," Julian grins conspiratorially, as if about to reveal a carefully guarded mystery. "When I was at the academy, I was good friends with an engineering student who was utterly obsessed with replicators. They were determined to perfect numerous replicator programmes. They even won competitions with their exquisite dishes. This is to say that I was bestowed with these programmes on graduation from the Academy".
Garak, ever curious, wore a thoughtful expression as he asked, "and are they superior to what we have on the station?"
With a sheepish look, Julian confessed, "Unfortunately I have yet been able to calibrate the replicators to the required specifications for reproducing their results. But Flix has sent me detailed instructions and with my superior understanding I am confident I will have the system calibrated very soon".
Garak observed the look of supreme confidence that Julian displayed. Suppressing a sigh, he had forgotten 'how, how exhausting and arrogant the young could be!'
As the minutes passed, Garak began noticing that Julian looked more and more refreshed. He hardly looked tired now at all. His vitality had returned to his features.
Garak couldn't help but squint at the man. Had there been dark circles under Julian's eyes when they had first met? Perhaps the lighting has changed in here?" he wondered turning his head to look about the room. The lighting in the restaurant was relaxing, not as bright as it tended to be in other areas of the station. But he didn't think it had changed.
"Garak?" Julian called, breaking Garak's contemplation. A slight frown creased his brow. "Are you all, right?"
"Sorry my dear, I was just wondering if the lighting had changed in here," Garak apologised.
Julian cast his eyes around the room, taking in the dim light, the soft spotlights highlighting each occupied table. The hum of intimate conversation drifted over them. Julian also noted that the restaurant was three degrees warmer than station norm. "I don't think any of the environmental controls have changed since we entered," Julian informed Garak.
Glancing around again, examining the decor, and the subtle shift in colours from red to blue, as well as some interesting geometric patterns. It reminded Julian of the question he had wanted to ask Garak about Cardassian eyesight.
"Oh, I wanted to ask you about that. I have noticed around the station standard colour motif of red and blue, sometimes equally dispersed, other times concentrated on one colour. I wanted to ask you about the symbolism?" Julian excitedly asked Garak.
Garak just blinked at Julian, startled.
"I had speculated that they are directional guides as it were. I however have not been all over the station, so have yet to fully decode the meaning of the colour shifts and patterns," Julian happily explains and then waits for Garak's reply with a patient demeanour.
"You can see the colour shifts?" Garak asks for clarification, looking slightly dismayed at the information Julian was carelessly revealing with his question, about Remnant abilities.
"Oh yes. Remnants have superior vision, in acuity, motion detection and frequency recognition," said Julian boldly, seemingly unconcerned about who might overhear.
Garak was frankly horrified!
"My dear Julian, some advice from an old Cardassian. You must be more careful; you don't know who could be listening. I am the soul of discretion of course, but you are new to the Station, and you don't know who you can trust," Garak gently warned him.
The more time Garak spent with Julian, the more he doubted the moniker of 'super soldier' applied to all Remnants. Surely no well-run organisation would let Julian out of their control. He was confused by the contradictory reports he had heard about the Remnants. Yet Julian acted free as a bird, as he had not a concern in the world. There were hints that he did have some self-preservation instincts. He did after all inform Commander Sisko of Garak's interest.
Garak looked at Julian, still bewildered by his character. Julian just looked at Garak innocently.
Julian scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Seriously Garak, I don't see the harm. After all everyone on the station already knows I am a super soldier. I would hardly be very 'super' if I didn't have super senses too."
Garak's mind churned with conflicting thoughts. Experiencing concern for a near stranger was an unfamiliar and disconcerting sensation. He engaged in an internal debate, questioning whether he should still exploit Julian to gather information about the Remnants. He scoffed at himself, wondering, 'What has become of me? Feeling compassion for a near stranger'. A decade ago, he would have had no qualms about leveraging Julian's naivety. 'But perhaps,' he pondered, 'I could assist Julian in developing greater awareness, cultivating skills that would benefit him'. It struck him as a potential trade-off, a clandestine arrangement that Julian need not be aware of. 'Yes,' he concluded, 'I could aid this young man in navigating the challenges of the frontier'.
Garak was relieved that he had come up with a plan to salve his conscience. Garak took another spoon of the stew. It truly was delicious. Maybe if he proceeded in a straightforward manner, Julian would readily agree, he did seem arrogant enough.
"I have decided to take you under my wing. You are far too innocent to be out here in the Galaxy by yourself," Garak informed Julian.
"Really? You're going to train me as a spy?" exclaimed Julian, vibrating with excitement. "This will be amazing Garak, thank you! In return I can share human culture with you," Julian enthused.
Julian was wreathed in smiles, his hazel eyes seemed to glitter with, dare Garak say it, a warmth bordering on devotion. Julian laughed freely.
Eventually Julian, calmed himself. He hoped to make progress with Garak that night, but hadn't expected that he would fall so completely under his spell. Julian hoped that Garak had enough appreciation for his craft that when he discovered that Julian had played him. That he would be sanguine over the universal law, 'That no matter how good you think you are, there's always someone better'.
Garak was already regretting saying anything to the young man. "What foolish notions you have. I have never been a spy. But I am an older gentleman of the world, I have seen much of the galaxy and can guide a young man around the possible pitfalls. Really you must be more circumspect about your abilities, they are your advantages. You shouldn't just give them away to your enemies," Garak sternly said. Before Julian could reply Garak held up a silencing finger. "That includes me".
Julian beamed at Garak. "Oh Garak, I know everything I need to know about you. I am an excellent judge of character. I will try to be more discreet about being a Remnant. I suppose it's because I am so far away from Earth out here. And well, I am the most dangerous person on the station," Julian declared, sweeping his arms out as if to encompass the entire station.
Unfortunately, his hand knocked his wine glass off the table during this grand gesture, sending it flying across the room.
Julian truly looked comical, eyes huge, mouth frozen in an 'oh', as they both swivelled their heads to follow the projection of the wine glass sailing in a perfect arc across the room until it bounced off a bulkhead, spilling its contents of the glass across the floor.
The waiter rushed over to see what had happened, he looked dismayed as he saw the spreading puddle of wine. The soft whir of a squat cleaning robot appeared from an opening in the bulkhead to suck up the wine and polish the floor.
"I am so sorry! I got carried away," Julian apologised to the waiter, looking particularly flushed in the cheeks.
"I am sorry Garak. I was very pleased with your proposal," Julian said his exuberance dampened.
The waiter returned, setting a clean glass in front of Julian, along with giving him an admonishing look.
"It really has been a fraught day," Julian smiled. "But I am very glad I am spending this evening with you".
Julian dipped his head, and Garak couldn't get a clear look at his eyes. "I am pleased that you are excited to be my friend. I don't think I have ever met anyone who was so enthusiastic about me," Garak said charmingly.
"Excellent, I will call in tomorrow and give you a copy of one of my favourite graphic novels. It's based during the Eugenics war. It was one of the few graphic novels that portray Remnants as well, well realistically. It's about a Remnant and a human going undercover to infiltrate Khan's base. Lots of spy craft," Julian said, eagerly leaning forward. "You'll find you will hardly have to teach me anything about being a spy. I have already picked up a lot," Julian explained.
Garak felt a headache coming on and tried not to let his eye twitch. 'Ancestors, what have I done?'
"At the academy I was known for creating some of the best Spy holo-programs. Probably because I am a Remnant and it comes naturally to me," Julian confided, utterly confident in his abilities. He turned his attention to the bread on the table, scraping a generous amount of butter across the surface.
"This is delicious," Julian commented, turning his attention back to his meal. 'This date had gone better than he could have dreamed of' Julian thought. He had wanted to laugh multiple times during the meal. The looks of shock and horror he had garnered from Garak were just delightful. He hadn't expected Garak to take him under his wing.
"Julian my dear, what exactly is a ... graphic novel?" Garak asked.
Julian smiled broadly at the Cardassian, Garak was holding his face particularly still, there was a tension to his features, as if he was exerting his will over his external expression. 'It's commendable, how much physical control he has over himself. It indicated years of training,' Julian contemplated as he carefully observed his dinner companion. Julian would know after all, he had trained and practised that very same skill himself. Of course, Julian also had to contend with learning a whole new body once he had fully awakened.
"It's a wonderful art form, that combines images with the written word, to tell a complete story," Julian enthused, 'yes I think that was a twitch in the left eye', oh, this is fun. "It has a rich history on earth, stretching back hundreds of years and covering multiple genres," Julian ensures to give Garak a particularly besotted smile. "There's thousands of titles to explore, from different regions on earth," said Julian.
"How delightful," Garak said, 'thousands of titles' he thought dejectedly, while absently rubbing an eye ridge.
Julian, with a slight furrow to his brow, leaned forwards, peering into Garak's face. "Do you have a headache? I can get you an analgesic from the replicator if you require it?" Julian gently enquires, reaching out his hand, to gently touch the back of Garak's.
Garak quickly brings his hand down and covers Julian's warm hand. "How kind my dear. Alas I am more tired than I realised. We haven't looked at the dessert menu yet. Or a drink maybe?" Garak reassured Julian.
"A drink might..."
It was at this moment that a bright light outside the observation window caught his notice. Julian turned his full attention to the strange phenomenon.
From their vantage point the two men could see the blue light spiral and coalesce into a giant whirlpool. Light and energy pouring out into the local space of Deep Space Nine.
"What is that?" Garak whispered in wonder.
A stone of dread felt like it was lodged in the pit of Julian's stomach. Julian's intelligent mind rapidly pieced together the events of the day, the station unexpectedly moving, now this phenomenon in space. It could only mean one thing!
Julian couldn't contain himself from the shock. He jumped up from his seat. The chair scooting away from him at the sudden movement. Startling several patrons of the restaurant close by. Julian turned fully towards the window and rested his hand against the cool Plexi-glass, just as a Star Fleet runabout appeared from its blue maw.
"FUCK MY LIFE!