Chapter Text
He shouldn’t have been in charge of the Federation Relief Effort. Even the independent colony on Secarus IV - with less than a million inhabitants - had a Captain, and most worlds had some form of Admiral.
But here he was, Doctor Julian Subatoi Bashir, Lieutenant. Supposedly he’s among the foremost experts on Cardassia in the Federation, fluent in Kardassi (Central dialect), and in so fucking over his head.
“Welcome to Central City and Cardassia,” Julian addressed the latest round of volunteer aid workers arriving on-planet, “I’m sure everyone has read the briefing materials. As you know this is a Class M planet with minimal axial tilt, mild seasonal variances, temperatures ranging from five degrees at the poles to sixty degrees inland along the horse latitudes. I expect you to dress appropriately for your species and location. Cooling vests are mandatory for Andorians and available for all.”
Next was the part that never got easier, but after a few months he had the speech down, at least.
“Active duty Starfleet personnel: I cannot prevent you from wearing the uniform you were issued. However, a common sign of arousal is the bluing of the facial and shoulder ridges.” He gestured to Ensign T’shel, a nondescript Vulcan, and her older style installation uniform with the blue color block across the shoulders, “all members of the government and military, and most civilians, won’t comment if you have ‘blue shoulders’ – it’s happened to everyone at least once during puberty—”
As expected, that got a nervous chuckle from his audience. Time to drop the other shoe. “But some civilians certainly will. Now some of you must be thinking, the current installation uniforms have grey shoulders!” Here he gestured at Sulen, another Vulcan, specifically the hint of command red at his throat. “And colored undershirts. Forgive my digression, but Cardassians are the originators of the enigma tale and of kotra, they’ll look the other way at something as casually obscene as blue shoulders, but a secret? Only a touch of blue at the throat and the wrists? At best it’s like wearing club makeup to a formal dinner, and at worst…” after the third time trying to explain it, Julian had found it was best to let the volunteers fill in the rest.
He could see the ripple of understanding sweep across the crowd: the long doctor’s coat and white undershirt he wore were more than just an eccentricity.
“As Director, I have authorized the following changes to the uniform code for volunteers within the Cardassian Union: All medical and science personnel may substitute a grey undershirt for their science blues, it’s already in the standard catalog under dockhands. Additionally, active medical personnel may wear white undershirts or ’doctors whites’ with grey trim. These customized patterns are available only in the supply replicators here and at the major regional offices.”
There it was, everyone in science blues was looking to the hangar walls where the replicators were, but the rest of the crowd looked bored. “In addition, to prevent future misunderstandings, all civilian dress will be reviewed - not approved, reviewed - by myself, Ensign T’Shel or Ensign Sulen before you leave this center. Small amounts of blue, piping, trim, other adornments or jewelry, lean towards the provocative. However, it is unremarkable in quantity - Andorians, Benzite, and Bolians needn’t worry about unwanted attention,” he paused for effect, “unless they’re wearing shirts with shoulder or arm cut-outs.”
“I do want to thank you for coming. In the final Dominion bombardment Cardassia lost over eight hundred million people, and had dozens of its largest cities glassed. Overall about one-seventh of the planetary population died, one seventh remains displaced, and planet-wide medical and manufacturing capabilities are crippled.”
The previous embarrassment and confusion had melted away as this shifted into a version of a speech most volunteers had heard before.
“The reactors and reservoirs, at a distance from the city centers, were largely spared. This is a similar pattern to Betazed, and Starfleet suspects this was to minimize the effort needed for the Dominion to rebuild, but it works in our favor too. The remaining population largely has shelter, food, water, and energy.
“What they don’t have is specialized medical care - over half of the research hospitals and all of their staff are gone - precision or mass manufacturing. We’re here to get them back on their feet. And more. This planet has been used, and used hard. Coming out of this not every kilometer needs to be devoted to feeding the terrestrial population and an interstellar military. The Detapa Council has specifically asked for assistance in re-greening Cardassia: restoring the tropical rainforests, the Arctic and Antarctic grasslands, and all biomes in-between.”
There was a cheer at this, not as loud as some groups he’d addressed, but more enthusiastic than most.
“Now until we get there, dust storms are prevalent, so be sure to carry your respirator and eye protection at all times.” More nods, this was not new information. “Similarly, you should always have your combadge. Even sleeping. Cardassia’s grid is down, so if you need an emergency beam out, we need a sensor lock.”
“We’ve gone over blue, so that’s one cultural misunderstanding avoided. Everyone should have received orientation training when they requested the post. If you want more than the 101, The aid office’s library has a collection of scientific and cultural information on Cardassia unparalleled in the Federation. The serial The Rose of Terok Nor is especially popular at he moment… probably because it would have been borderline seditious under the previous regime. You’ll want the standard translation with liner notes.
Like most surviving buildings in Central City we’re on the Outer Loop Line, anyone stationed here will use it to commute to your work assignments. If you have any questions, I’ll be working out of the mess hall for the next four days. You may also comm me, Ensign T’Shel or Ensign Sulen at any time, even after you leave here.
“Again, thank you and good luck.”
There was a run on the replicators. There was always a run on the replicators when he finished that talk. Better than what had happened when the first group was assigned to their postings.
Within the Cardassian Union, breakfast is for the family, lunch is for the state, and yekot’pey is for connection. Each person brought yekot, which loosely translated to mixed food but was usually leftovers, and the host would brew a large amount of fresh tea. Like dim-sum or high tea, yekot’pey was a time of conversation, and well understood as the place to meet new or connect with old friends.
Garak’s lunches were filled with people far more important than Julian, but they managed a private yekot’pey around once an octal (eight-day week) to discuss literature. He was pretty sure that Garak regretted how much the new Cardassia had uncensored the first time Julian made them read ‘chick lit.’ (Totally worth it, 100%, had done again.)
Today Julian was meeting Garak at the Central Cardassian Library Complex, now home to the provisional government. It was only a few stops further North on the Outer Loop Line; so less than an hour after he concluded a particularly irritating call with the admiralty, Julian cleared the last security check.
A few more turns found himself in the courtyard of the curator’s mansion, now home to the provisional Castellan: Elim Garak.
“Security didn’t open the bento (Japanese lunchbox with multiple sections, usually made of plastic or lacquer),” Julian opened, “Think they’re beginning to trust me?”
“Nonsense,” Garak’s smile was all confidence, “unlike your sarfartas (Arabic for a lunchbox made of stacked cylinders like a tiffin carrier or dabbas), the scanners should have had no trouble penetrating lacquer - a gift from the O’Briens?”
“Yes. Very much so. Molly picked it out when they visited Niigata. They also included three katsuobushi (a cured cut of tuna shaved to make bonito flakes in Japanese cuisine) and a replicator pattern for a shaver.”
“I should like to see it,” given raw avarice on Garak’s face it wasn’t hard to translate ‘see’ into ‘consume.’
“I brought the next best thing: a furikake (a dry condiment, usually including dried seaweed and bonito, sprinkled on rice in Japanese cuisine) made with it to go over the groats.”
“I suppose I shall have to settle,” Garak sighed.
“I don’t believe you’ve settled a day in your life.” Julian said, more fondly than his words implied.
“Need I remind you, I was exiled?” Faux outrage.
“And did you settle for that? Castellan.” Polite interest, a leading question, and a point to Julian.
The conversation turned, not entirely appropriately, to work. Permissible for friends of such long standing, but another thing to raise brow ridges in Garak’s staff.
“By the book, every request I get is a priority one,” Julian complained.
“Surely, your time as a physician gave you some ability to triage that you could apply to energy credit distribution.”
“Ability, yes. Authority, no. And every denial, which happens because we don’t have the energy to distribute, needs to be documented. Preferably on a live sub space feed between nine and five, San Francisco time.”
Garak barked a laugh. “You could send them the Detapa Council’s rationing guidelines.”
“I’m afraid that I need them awake to sign off on my requisitions,” Julian said as he made some unnecessarily large gestures with the hand holding his teacup, as if to take in the entirety of the courtyard and the planet. “I suppose I could give it a redline, and then ask the admiralty to confirm if it matches the goals of the relief effort.”
“In Kardassi?”
“I’m hardly going to bother to translate it.”
Garak actually scoffed.
“Fine. Yes, I have translated it, assigned it to my senior staff, and discussed its criteria with them,” Julian allowed. One-all. “But that doesn’t mean I have to send it all on; the admiralty has a number of official translators on staff.”
“You know, my dear doctor, I almost believe you.”
“I believe me!”
“You always were an optimist.”
“And you’ve always had a sweet tooth. Mother sent a fruitcake in the last care package…” by the raw avarice on Garak’s face Julian knew his attempt to change the topic was successful: as long as he followed through. He offered a precise cube of cake wrapped in a cut paper doily to Garak, letting their fingers brush as it passed between them.
The fruitcake gave way to a discussion of an early enigma tale. With only a few hundred pages and three protagonists, Julian had found it riveting. He said so, certain that Garak would dismiss the work as simplistic and juvenile, and had the pleasure of an argument when Garak proved him right.
From: Lt. Nguyễn,
To: Dr. Bashir
Subject: Help needed with inter-sentient issueDr. Bashir,
I specialize in super-geosynchronous orbital space structures, colloquially space elevators. You might know that elevator design varies widely by species as they’re usually built pre-warp, and that they’re much easier to maintain than replace. When I heard that Cardassia was building two new elevators to replace those destroyed by the Dominion, I immediately filed for an aid sabbatical to come here.
I’ve started this letter a dozen times, because I’ve had a difficulty collaborating with Dr. Jain, my counterpart from the science ministry. I know Cardassians can be xenophobic, especially against men in the sciences. To try to get her to listen without an argument I’ve fallen back to citing my credentials:
I started on maintenance at the Mars elevator, almost 20 years ago, then specialized in space structures at the academy, my thesis was on ribbon repair methods, and I’ve worked on dozens since then. I haven’t been publishing as much as I should, but I don’t think it’s boasting to say I’m one of the best in the Federation.
Anyway, this is where it goes off the ribbon, so to speak. Apparently being non-confrontational was just being “too shy to speak my mind” and she’s proposed marriage. What happens now?
Ex Astris Scientia,
Nguyễn Bình Minh
•
From: Dr. Bashir
To: Lt. Nguyễn
Subject: Help needed with inter-sentient issueLt. Nguyễn,
Are you asking me as the Director of Federation aid on Cardassia to ensure you can continue working on the new elevator construction?
Or are you asking me as your direct superior officer to negotiate the terms of marriage with Dr. Jain’s family and command?
Ex Astris Scientia,
Julian Bashir, XMD
•
From: Lt. Nguyễn,
To: Dr. Bashir
Subject: Help needed with inter-sentient issueDr. Bashir,
The latter. Can you send cultural information?
Ex Astris Scientia,
Nguyễn Bình Minh
•
From: Dr. Bashir
To: Lt. Nguyễn
Subject: Help needed with inter-sentient issueLt. Nguyễn,
I will be arriving on the Blue Nile tomorrow at 14:52. Attached are the requested cultural materials and an invitation to yekot’pey for Dr. Jain and Gul Delin. You are excused from your afternoon shift, plan to beam aboard instead.
Ex Astris Scientia,
Julian Bashir, XMD
Like the other with plans for yekot’pey, Julian wandered the serving stations after lunch. It was a good selection for opening a courtship; a supply ship had been by last octal (eight-day week) and the food available was very Earth forward. There were onigiri (rice-balls with savory fillings, a common Japanese lunch) wrapped in hydroponic shiso leaves made with real earth rice, grilled zabu meat with chimichurri sauce, and cardamom groatmeal cookies with chunks of dried apricot. Julian packed it all into the large engraved sarfartas (Arabic for a lunchbox made of stacked cylinders like a tiffin carrier or dabbas) his mother had sent after he explained the customs for yekot’pey. Back at his quarters, he added some non-replicated chocolate truffles from Dax’s last care package to round it out.
The Blue Nile was … tattier than any other Federation runabout Julian had ever seen. To be fair, she was also decades older than any other Federation runabout Julian had ever seen. But there was a communal area in the stern that would do well as a yekot’pey gathering area once the latest spillover from one of the science labs had been removed and the auto-sterilize cycle had run.
At precisely 15:00 hours, Julian beamed Lieutenant Nguyễn aboard. He was a stocky man in his late thirties with an immaculately slicked back pompadour and grease under his fingernails. Apart from the lack of ridges and the golden tan of his skin, he could have walked off the cover of any number of Cardassian pastoral romances.
“Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Nguyễn.”
“Good to be here, sir.”
“Shall we?” Julian gesture to the stern, and they both proceeded to the table. “So have you shared yekot with Dr. Jain before?”
“I didn’t even realize it at first, we’d be working late and she’d say ‘it’s time for tea’ and we’d have a pot with some cold leftovers from lunch, and get back to it. One night, Gul Delin came in to collect a report and asked me what I’d brought, and when I said nothing he had this look: like he knew something I didn’t and it was the greatest thing in the galaxy. So I started making sure I had biscuits or dried fruit on me in case we stayed late. My sister sent some chrysanthemum tea from Hà Giang (a Northern City and Province in Vietnam) in my last care package and we shared that-”
“And you’re not married already?” Julian couldn’t help but tease, only to backpedal when the lieutenant spluttered and flushed. “I’m sorry, go on.”
“We never left the engineering break room, and we work in the same place! We get lunch from the same serving line, drink the same recycled water. There was never a group of people or the little plates…” he trailed off, clearly embarrassed. “Yekot’pey is for making friends, right? Like you share all the different food, and tell stories about making it with family or where you were working when you picked it up, and…?”
“It’s different when you’re courting, or flirting,” Julian soothed. “I’m guessing you’re not one for the tabloids?”
“No sir.”
“That’s fine. I’m friends with a Joined Trill who lives for tabloid drama. About once an octal I have a private Yekot’pey with Garak. She delights in sending me tabloid clippings when the paparazzi manage to crash it.”
“You’re courting the Castellan?!?”
It was Julian’s turn to be embarrassed. “Well, not courting per se. But we’ve had a flirtation since we first met on Deep Space Nine,” he said. “The first time we met he put his hands on my shoulders and told me if I wished for some ’enjoyable company’ he was at my disposal.”
“No!”
“Yes.” It was Julian’s turn to flush, “and instead of taking him up on it, I ran to Commander Sisko’s office to tell him I’d talked with the Cardassian spy.”
“And you still haven’t…?”
“We still haven’t. Weekly lunches for seven years, I followed him to Cardassia, we pick books just to enrage each other, share yekot, and I can’t tell if he wants to take the next step.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I’m not. Even if nothing comes of it I’ve enjoyed myself immensely. Anyway, when it’s just the two of you, you skip the little plates and use your claws to pass each other food. I usually use chopsticks because fingertips are a bit intimate-“
At this information, Lieutenant Nguyễn looked like he was about to faint. Julian hastily changed the subject, “tell me about Dr. Jain?”
Doctor Be’ani Jain was apparently the smartest, most capable, and stunningly beautiful woman Nguyễn had ever worked with. Her opinions on Starfleet’s engineering repair bulletin were unparalleled.
The lieutenant was smitten. Fortunately it seemed very much mutual, so that just left the terms of marriage to be worked out between the couple and their representatives.
“Bình Minh,” Dr. Jain said stepping off the transport pad, hands up.
“Be’ani,” he breathed as if he couldn’t believe his luck. He stepped forward to press palms with her, before tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and escorting her to where they’d set out yekot.
Julian was left with Gul Delin. He looked like most military men, tall and sharp; a predatory gaze fixed on the would-be lovers as they disappeared through the corridor.
“Dr. Jain has a sister who married out of the family,” Delin said, his words rapid and quiet. “Her ménage was based in Lakat, and killed in the bombings, but three of her children were on an agricultural tour at the time and are now orphans. Your Federation practices adoption, yes?”
“Yes-”
“Cardassia has too many orphans. She needs to marry out of the family, become Viyn, and adopt them”
Gul Delin was clearly using the standard word for ‘adoption’ but it took Julian a moment to parse ‘Viyn’ as Nguyễn, and another moment more for the meaning to sink in. He’s never had a poker face, and his shock must have shown as he stammered out, “but Cardassia-”
“Has too many orphans,” Gul Delin repeated, slowly and firmly. “You and the Castellan may stretch out you game as long as you like but Dr. Jain is my best engineer. She’s in love and worried sick about family she can’t claim; I need them married yesterday.”
“Then let us proceed.” Julian gave a genuine smile and ushered Gul Delin back to the dining area.
Once the the holo-casts were back-up, the Universty of Culat had introduced an experimental talk-show. Conversations would have been unremarkable in the Federation. But the live broadcast of an unscripted, uncensored, discussion between Professor Toran and her guests - usually leaders in their field, and only rarely political - took off like fire across the new Cardassian Union.
Julian had been thrice before. When he first came to Cardassia he’d spoken about the general scope of Federation Relief Office, then about his own medical training, and most recently in the wake of the Nguyễn wedding and adoption.
This time he had to explain swimming. At least two dozen humans at the Union Day festival outside of Central City had decided to go swimming in the River Gafan, and the municipality had pressed indecency charges. He was working to get them voided prior to sentencing, but it was slow going. Hopefully this interview would tip the scales in his favor.
PROF TORAN: Do all humans swim?
BASHIR: Not all, but it's customary to make sure children learn how. On Earth, most humans live near seas, lakes, or rivers and so the ability to swim is an important safety issue-
PROF TORAN: How does that lead to swim competitions. Like this one-
[clip of eight human men in skin-right trunks leaping off the blocks into a pool and swimming, arm over arm, to the other side in seconds.]
BASHIR: Fifty-meter freestyle. The splash and dash. [laughs] There are different names for how you move your arms and legs - freestyle, butterfly, backstroke, and different race lengths. That's one of the shorter ones.
PROF TORAN: Do racers always wear so little?
BASHIR: Racers? They wear as much as the rules allow. Full body, low friction suits can provide a real advantage, so they've been banned for centuries. Now in water polo, players really do wear so little.
PROF TORAN: Water Polo?
BASHIR: It's an aquatic version of football. Two teams of seven - wearing the tiniest swim-briefs imaginable - try to maneuver a ball into the other teams net. It's a high contact sport, played in water deep enough you must swim to stay afloat.
PROF TOLAN: And playing this is normal for humans?
BASHIR: Starfleet Academy has several water polo teams and clubs. It's encouraged by the admiralty as team-building. If I can get the censors to approve it, we'll have the aid office re-broadcast the academy's matches.
PROF TOLAN: I'd watch it.
BASHIR: I think a lot of Cardassians might enjoy it.
PROF TOLAN: But why do humans swim?
BASHIR: Mostly, it's fun. Humans are just a little too dense to float on their own, but it doesn't take mush force to stay up. Scrunching wet sand between your toes feels good and helps remove dead skin. Our earliest civilizations formed on river deltas, and most modern cities are on a shore. Water and swimming are very entwined with us as a species. I'd think Cardassians would be even more suited to it, but in all the literature I've read it's never been mentioned, and there don't seem to be public pools.
PROF TOLAN: Cardassians do not need to be taught to swim - we are naturally buoyant. However, it is widely believed to be something we, as a species, have moved beyond.
BASHIR: Have you ever tried it?
PROF TOLAN: I have not.
BASHIR: Don't you find that sad? That there is something out there you can assert you'd be proficient at, but you've never tried? That you don't know how much you'd enjoy?
PROF TOLAN: I hadn't considered it that way.
Julian’s interview hadn’t convinced the municipality to drop the charges but what it had done was emboldened enough young Cardassians to try swimming, and water polo, that there simply weren’t enough bureaucrats to process them all. Holding cells across three continents were full of able-bodied Cardassians sorely needed elsewhere, and what sort of government gave amnesty to the military that sold the Union out to the Dominion but punished this?
There were some grand speeches about “A New Cardassia” by members of the Detapa council and then provisional government had simply repealed the laws prohibiting public swimming. Garak had given him quite the chewing-out when they next met.
(The culprits had "thanked" him by substituting the 2247 remake of Footloose for MacBeth the next time he attended movie night. He was pretty sure Dax had given them the idea.)